Allyson Charles's Blog, page 4

What our blog community is about.

Hi everyone! I just wanted to drop a quick word about my new and improved blog. I know a lot of people are tired of the newsletters. Their inboxes are full, and there’s too much useless crap taking up their time. I get it. I don’t necessarily agree when it comes to my newsletter, because I think it’s awesome, but I understand. And I’m here for you. So, this blog will be dedicated to bi-monthly writing updates. (That's twice a month, not every two months, and why do we let that word have both those meanings?) I’ll let you know what book I’m working on, the hiccups and missteps this writer faces, and when to expect your next hot read. I'd love to hear your comments, but due to circumstances outside my control (really! It's not just because I'm technologically illiterate), you can only like and comment a post if you sign up to the community. If you join, you do get the added benefit of being notified whenever I post a new blog. Please feel free to share any post you want (that's allowed without joining LOL). And FYI, I will delete any comment I find offensive or inappropriate. And now, on with the show! #followme

#DeathvsDesire at RT 2018!

I'll be heading to Reno come May 14th for the annual Romantic Times Convention, and I hope to see some of you guys there. I'll be at the Kensington party, Thursday night at 5:15-6:30, the Giant Book Fair on Saturday, and the FAN-tastic Day Party on Saturday night. Why they call it a Day party when it's held at night, I do not know.My sister, cozy mystery writer Kirsten Weiss, will also be attending. And we've decided to have a little fun. A Death vs Desire scavenger hunt. The rules are simple: find one of us at RT when we're signing, get one of our books and we'll provide an instruction sheet with clues to locations in the Peppermill Resort. Using your sleuthing skills, find those locations, snap a pic of our book there, and post it on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Instagram with the hashtag #DeathvsDesire. That's it. Players will get an entry for each pic they take and post at the correct location, and for each social media platform they post it on. The more clues you unravel and locations you find, the more chances you have to win. And the prize will be a $50 Amazon gift card (or to the vendor of your choice). I'm hoping that not only will the winning entry be of one of my romance books, but that romance will flood the entries, proving once and for all that my genre is better than my sister's. :) We haven't decided yet, but I'm thinking that whoever's book wins the scavenger hunt will get treated to dinner by the losing sister. So help a fellow romance lover out, and let's kick mystery's butt!If you'll be at RT this year, I hope you'll come find me and say hi. And look for the #deathvsdesire hashtag along with #rt2018!

Giveaway time!

Hey Goodreads peeps. My publisher is running a giveaway for A WEDDING ON BLUEBIRD WAY between now and April 17th. GR members are eligible to enter, and 5 copies are up for grabs!https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/sh...

BOUND BY THE EARL...

....is on sale now! My first self-published book, it has truly been a labor of love. I'm so thankful for the reviews that are coming in, and very excited to start getting BURNING FOR THE BARON, the next book in the series, out into the world.https://www.allysoncharles.com/bound-...

Chat Bot Insanity!

Ay carumba. I've just finished creating a Facebook messenger chat bot for my Allyson Charles page. And I think my eyes are bleeding. If you don't know what a chat bot is, don't worry, neither did I a couple of weeks ago. But for some reason I still decided I wanted one.... A chat bot is a way to created automated messages to respond to someone when they hit you up on FB (a person can also still just message you). I've subscribed to some good ones that were interesting and fun, and I hope I made mine entertaining, too. I know someone who plans on writing a choose-your-own-adventure romance to put on her chat bot for subscribers to play around with. And if my brain didn't hurt right now just installing my simple bot, I think I'd really like that idea. I might try it in the future, brain cells willing. But if you'd like to play around in my new bot, and give me any feedback, that would be awesome. You can click hereto link to it, or go to my Facebook pageand hit Send Message, and the bot will come to life!And just because it felt like I was being strangled with a thousand bot tentacles while creating my chat bot, I'm posting this lovely picture below.

Teaser Tuesday - Bound by the Earl

He raised his hands. “There. You see? You’ve asked for something for which you are not prepared.”“Was that a test?”“Yes.” He sighed. “And the outcome was as I expected.”Shame mixed with outrage. She’d been attempting to expand her boundaries, quavering with the effort of it, and he stood there as unaffected as a teacher delivering a lesson. But the disgrace of it was, he was right. She wasn’t ready. Not tonight. But soon. Tonight, she would retreat and examine her reactions and try to plot a way forwards.But she had her pride, and it refused to let him see her run back to her room to lick her wounds. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer my inadequate attempts at congress. Perhaps I’ll seek a less critical partner elsewhere.”She reached the door before he responded.“Miss Wilcox, as your temporary protector, I feel beholden to insist that you run the name of any potential scoundrels by me before you commence any affairs.” He stalked towards her. “I feel duty bound to investigate their character.”“And you’d allow me that liberty?” Disappointment crashed through her, and tears burned the back of her eyes. She could never put herself through this with another man. “Of course. As you point out, there is no marriage bed to save yourself for.” Pausing next to her, he tugged at the neckline of her gown, straightening the lace trim. “Though I don’t think I need worry about it.”Amanda froze. Surely he didn’t see that clearly into her mind. See that of all the men she’d known, she held him in an especial regard. Even after this failure, she knew she would try to seduce him again, and the tender feelings he evoked would make giving her body that much easier. That didn’t mean she wanted him to know of them.“And why is that?” she whispered.“You’d have to leave the house to find yourself a buck. And that, Miss Wilcox, is something we both know you won’t do.”BOUND BY THE EARL in stores March 15th!

Interview with Allyson Charles

[The following is the transcript of an episode of Allyson Charles's podcast, featuring Debbie Garcia and Eugenie Shaw interviewing Allyson.]Eugenie: *Taps microphone* Is this thing on? I don’t think the mic is attached properly. Why don’t we just use the laptop’s built-in one?Debbie: I told you, the sound quality is subpar on the laptop. And that mic is working.Eugenie: All right, all right. No need to get snippy. Now. We are joined by Allyson Charles, author of the Pineville and Forever romance series, along with the odd contribution to an anthology here and there. How are you doing today, dear?Allyson: Um, fine. *Leans forward* You do know this is my podcast, right? You two are the invited guests.Debbie: Yes, but we’re here to interview you.Eugenie: Which I was in the middle of. If I could continue without any interruptions?Debbie: *Grumbles off mic*Allyson: Sure.Eugenie: Now, you write about happy endings for so many people, Allyson. When’s it going to happen for you?Allyson: Uh …. I’m doing what I love. Have great family and friends. There’s---Eugenie: But there’s no one special, is there? You’re all alone. *She shakes her head* I have Herbie. Debbie had Ric---Debbie: Shh! I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know that yet.Eugenie: When will it be your time, dear?Allyson: Why don’t we move this interview away from relationships. Highlighting my single status could be bad for business as a romance writer.Debbie: A sensible business woman. I can respect that.Eugenie: Well, sure, if you want a generic interview, I can do that, too. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?Allyson: Hmm. Well, I’ve had a couple stupid home improvement stories. They usually involve me standing with one foot on a ladder, high above the ground, sometimes with a chainsaw in my hands. It’s quite something that I haven’t killed myself, or anyone else, yet.Debbie: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?Allyson: I’d have my own private island somewhere where the water is turquoise and warm.Debbie: Wrong answer.Allyson: Uh, it’s my opinion, how can it be---Eugenie: You were supposed to say Pineville, Michigan, dear.Debbie: Yeah, I thought you were the smart business woman trying to sell her books.Allyson: But it’s a fictional wor---Eugenie: Next question. Beta, alpha, or alpha-hole?Allyson: I think I write respectful alphas, but my friends think they’re alpha-holes. So, I guess that’s where my heart lies. At least in fiction.Debbie: Oxford comma or no?Allyson: Always Oxford.Eugenie: If you were a pizza delivery man, how would you benefit from scissors?Allyson: I … don’t understand that question at all.Debbie: Do you believe in Bigfoot?Allyson: This is a generic interview?Debbie: Are you refusing to answer?Eugenie: That was a silly question. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you, there is no such thing as Bigfoot.Debbie: The video footage is out there. You just don’t want to believe your own eyes.Eugenie: And you know better than anyone---Allyson: *Grabs mic* And that’s it for today, everyone. Thanks for joining us. I’ll see you next week.

Interview with Judge Nichols

[The following is a transcript of an interview Allyson Charles had with Judge Nichols on her podcast.]Allyson: Hi, Judge. How are you today?Judge: Every day I’m above ground is a good one.Allyson: Come on. You must have had some bad ones. You’re the lone judge for Crook County. You must have heard and seen some bad things in the courthouse that would give you a bad day.Judge: Contrary to its name, Crook County is a great place to be a judge. We have a very low crime rate and I mostly preside over squabbles between neighbors.Allyson: How long have you been a judge now?Judge: Almost … thirty years now. *He shakes his head* Time flies by fast when you enjoy what you do.Allyson: Well, everyone in Crook County knows about your career history – enlisted in the Air Force for four years, then law school, and then private practice for almost two decades. How about we tell them some things they don’t know?Judge: *He shifts on seat* I don’t know if I should be scared or not.Allyson: *Laughs* I’ll start off easy. Where’s your favorite place to eat in Pineville?Judge: The Pantry, hands down. The peach pie there is heaven sent. Wait … Genie won’t be listening to this, will she? Change my answer to Eugenie’s house.Allyson: Uh, this is a live broadcast. I can’t really change it.Judge: *He runs a hand through his hair* Well, I meant Genie’s kitchen. She’s the best cook around.Allyson: Since you’ve opened that door … It’s no secret that you and Eugenie Shaw have become more than friends. Now, you’ve presided over your share of weddings. Will Pineville hear wedding bells of your own making any time soon?Judge: *His cheeks turn pink* Marriage is a serious business. Very serious. I wouldn’t … that is to say … we haven’t ….Allyson: I’ll take pity on you and retract that question.Allyson: Who’s your favorite Supreme?Judge: Diana Ross.Allyson: *Rolls eyes* I meant Supreme Court Justice.Judge: *He smiles* I know what you meant. But nowadays that’s a political statement. As an elected official, that’s a kettle of worms I want to stay as far away from as possible.Allyson: Do you see yourself retiring any time soon?Judge: Oh, I think some new blood will be sitting on the bench fairly soon. I only have to convince the woman to run …Allyson: Can you give us a name?Judge: *He pats Allyson’s hand* You’ll see it on the ballot along with everyone else. Now, I have to get back to session. Anything else before I go?Allyson: One more question. And maybe it will help convince your mystery woman to run. What do you like most about being a judge?Judge: That’s easy. I love helping two opposing sides find a resolution. The individuals might not like my decision at first, but I hope, with time, they’ll think I made a wise choice.Allyson: You seem to have had a hand in several opposing sides coming together and finding love. Surely that’s not usually a part of the judicial process.Judge: *His eyes twinkling* That, my dear, is what I’d call a fringe benefit.Allyson: There you have it, folks. Judge Herbert Nichols.

Sample of Forever Home (releases April 10!)

Flipping up the collar of her tan, belted trench coat, Isabelle Lopez couldn’t deny that her latest task was a just a teensy bit thrilling. She looked down at the street below and took another surreptitious photograph of the buildings on the next block. She was like a spy gathering classified intel. Or a private eye getting the dirt on a no-good cheating husband. She was Carmen Miranda and Sherlock Holmes all rolled into one pint-sized package.A city bus rumbled past, and Izzy’s own face smiled up at her from the glossy advertisement plastered on the bus’s side. A stark reminder that this spy was in actuality . . . a real estate agent, scoping out property for a client who prized secrecy over efficiency.Mission accomplished, she retraced her steps to the rear entrance of the abandoned apartment complex and flipped the dead bolt open. She felt a bit guilty that she’d be leaving the building unlocked. Just because her little stint of B&E had only been to snap some elevated shots of the nearby properties, that didn’t mean the next person to come along would act so innocently. She should leave the same way she’d entered, through an unlatched window she’d managed to haul her butt through. But she already had one bruised knee from that window. She didn’t need another. Besides, the building was deserted. Nothing in it to steal. And in Crook County, Michigan, the crime rate was so low it could be underwater.Just then, a low wail met her ears, the ghostly sound echoing down the hall. She paused, one foot out the door, the hair on the back of her neck rising. The sound came again, low and plaintive, and creepy as hell. Her legs bustled her out the door and halfway through the parking lot before her brain registered the second noise she’d heard. A faint yip.Heart thudding, she turned back to the apartment building. No crazed maniac chased after her. No phantasm floated across the lobby. But the building definitely wasn’t vacant.She shifted on her two-inch pumps. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not only had she broken into a building, but no one could know that she was assessing the neighboring properties for sale. It had been tough enough getting to this position: one of the top two sellers for her firm, finally having enough money to take her daughter out to eat once in a while, to pay for Ana’s soccer camp. An arrest wouldn’t get her any new clients.As a single mother, she’d thought real estate would be the perfect career—flexible hours, high commissions, and a job that didn’t require a college degree. Easy. She’d been wrong. It wasn’t easy. But it was finally starting to pay off. And she didn’t need to blow it by getting caught poking around where she didn’t belong.“Dammit,” she swore under her breath. Shoulders slumped, she trudged back into the building. Everything was silent.“Hey, doggy,” she singsonged. “Where’re you hiding?”She searched through the first floor, checking apartments and whistling. Maybe she’d imagined the noises. How would a stray have found its way inside the building, after all? She’d almost convinced herself it had been her imagination when the mournful howl sounded again.Izzy knocked on the door to the apartment the sound had come from, then rolled her eyes. No one lived here. She stepped into the entry and paused. Could someone be living here? A vagrant who’d broken in as she had and liked to keep an attack dog at the ready? Cautiously, she tiptoed inside. The stench of ammonia and ripe dog assaulted her nostrils. Peering around the hallway wall into the living room, she saw nothing.She stole to the bedroom and pushed open the door. Huddled in the far corner, a large dog struggled to her feet, positioning herself between Izzy and the litter of puppies that slept on the floor. She growled.“Easy, girl.” Izzy blinked, her eyes burning. From the stench of urine, she told herself. She wasn’t an animal person, never had been. Certainly wouldn’t be caught crying over one.But the poor thing was nothing but skin and bones. And some bastard had left her and her babies here to die. Without taking her gaze from the mama dog, she dug in her boho bag, finding a plastic baggie. She pulled out the stash of goldfish crackers she never left home without and poured out a handful. She edged a few steps closer and placed the pile on the carpet. Slowly, she backed away.Wary, the dog stepped forward and sniffed at the snack. Her pink tongue rolled out, and she licked up a single fish. Obviously satisfied it was edible, she gobbled the rest of the pile in two bites and looked up at Izzy expectantly.Izzy knelt and poured more crackers onto the floor in front of her. The dog, a bit smaller than the golden retriever that lived next door to her but still too big for Izzy’s comfort, lurched forward and eagerly chomped down. Her thin frame shook, and her hair was matted and clumped with something Izzy didn’t want to identify.She pulled a bottle of water from her bag and poured some into her cupped hand. The dog got a couple of good slurps in before the water seeped through Izzy’s fingers. She poured another handful. Her mind raced. She couldn’t call the police. Going to jail wasn’t on her list of things to do today. She couldn’t leave the poor things here. But there was a private animal shelter just a block and a half away. If she left the animals on its doorstep, the shelter people would have to take care of them.A puppy that looked nothing like the rest of the litter yawned and climbed over the head of his sleeping sibling to investigate. All of the puppies were small enough to fit in Izzy’s hand. But they looked plump and healthy. Mama had provided, nursing her little ones even as she’d gone hungry. Izzy’s heart pinched, and she rubbed her breastbone.The dog nudged her puppy with her muzzle, and he landed spread-eagled on the floor. She licked him down his short back.Izzy counted. Five puppies, and one large dog. Her car was two blocks away. “I’ll be right back,” she told the dog. She stood, refusing to let the big toffee-colored eyes of the mutt, full of disappointment and recrimination, tug at her heart. “I promise. Two minutes, no longer.”Three minutes later, she was pulling into the back parking lot. She popped open the rear door of her SUV and took stock. She drove clients around in her car and needed to keep it tidy, so she kept two plastic milk crates in the back that she tossed all her junk into, giving her the appearance of being organized when in reality it was just two contained piles of chaos. She pawed through the crate full of Ana’s assorted crap—an old pair of cleats, a grass-stained towel, toys she no longer played with. Another crate was packed full of Izzy’s real estate tools—a staple gun, For Sale signs, and old flyers that needed to be recycled.No rope. Nothing that could be used as collars or leashes. Emptying her purse on the passenger seat, she hurried back inside.The dogs were still all there. Izzy inched toward the pile of puppies in the corner. “Okay, Mama. I’m going to put your babies in my bag, and you’re going to follow us out to my car. Easy peasy, right?” Izzy knew a person didn’t get between a bear and her cubs without suffering the consequences. She didn’t know if that held true for dogs. The animal was emaciated and weak, so she probably couldn’t do much damage. Izzy hoped.The mother dog stumbled toward her pups. Most of her body was a mix of black and brown hair, but her nose was white as snow. She nuzzled the pile of fur, giving an occasional lick, her long tongue bunching the skin of the little ones.Kneeling, Izzy tentatively reached out and stroked her finger down the spine of a puppy. The fur was as soft as the finest silk. The mother watched, not growling but not looking particularly happy about Izzy’s interference, either. Izzy opened the top flaps of her bag. “I’m just going to put the puppy right in here,” she said, carefully lifting the wriggling bundle and laying him on the floor of her purse. She glanced at the mom. No objections. Izzy quickly bundled the rest of the litter inside her bag. They all had their mother’s black-and-brown fur and her slightly flattened face and floppy ears. None of them weighed more than a couple of pounds.Izzy stood and carefully picked up her bag, making sure none of the puppies was getting smothered. “Let’s go,” she said to the mom. She took two steps, and a low growl cut through the bedroom. She turned back. “You’re coming, too. I’m not dognapping them.” She jerked her head to the door. “Let’s go,” she repeated. She was anxious to get the dogs off her hands—and wondering why in the world she was talking to one as if it could understand her.Head low, the dog lumbered along the wall. When she reached a half-open closet door, she huffed and stuck her head inside. She came back out with a puppy in her mouth.“Shoot, I forgot about you.” It was the one that had come over earlier to investigate. His face was longer and narrower than his siblings’, his fur almost all black except for small patches of white along his body and paws. The only thing he had in common with the other dogs was the long, floppy ears. She gently pried him from his mom’s mouth, and settled him in with his siblings. She made a quick search of the rest of the apartment. No more hiding dogs. “Now can we go?”Pushing into the apartment building’s hall, she waited for the dog to follow. Each step the dog took was laborious, a struggle, but she seemed determined to stay near her pups. Izzy opened the back door of the lobby, and she and the dog walked to her SUV. Placing her purse on the floor of her backseat, she pushed open the top flaps of her bag as wide as possible and counted five heads. She turned to the grown dog. “Okay, jump in.”The mutt put a paw on the car’s floor, her back legs shaking. She lifted one hind leg, then the other, but got no closer to climbing inside.The back of Izzy’s throat burned, and she swallowed hard. It was just an animal, she told herself. Nothing to get worked up over. The sooner she got this done, the sooner she could say goodbye to that sad, smooshy, adorable face. The dog was trying to emotionally manipulate her, and Izzy wouldn’t fall for it.Placing her hands on the dog’s back haunches, she lifted. The dog turned her head and bared her teeth, but Izzy wasn’t having it. Keeping her face away from the dog’s muzzle, she hefted and prodded and eventually got her onto the backseat.She drove slowly down Route 84. The Newgate Apartments sat on the corner of 84 and Plum. The road west of the apartments curved into dense forest, and to the east there were a couple of blocks of strip malls before the road again disappeared into pine trees. Route 84 connected the neighboring towns of Pineville and Clarion Township, but whereas those downtowns had been revitalized and burst with small-town charm, this small commercial patch looked as worn out as a five-year-old after a day at Disney World.She passed a bakery she knew to be Bert’s, although the elements had worn away the “T” and half of the “S” on its sign. The hair salon next to it had a faded image of a woman styled with a bouffant painted on the front. She crossed the intersection and passed a fitness studio on her left with a row of stationary bicycles in the front window. The animal shelter was across from the gym, and it shared a parking lot with a used car dealership. A sign reading “Forever Friends” was hung over the shelter’s front door. A group of women wearing yoga pants and holding paper cups of coffee chatted underneath it.Izzy clenched the steering wheel. The women looked friendly. Too friendly. There would be lots of oohing and aahing over the dogs. Questions about where Izzy had found them. Why she’d been in the abandoned building. What she’d been doing in this neighborhood in the first place. All questions she couldn’t answer.She kept driving. She turned the corner and eased into the narrow alley that ran behind the block. Her SUV squeezed past a dumpster. She turned off her car and jumped out. Swinging open the back door, she reached for the dog and lowered her to the ground. Grabbing her purse, she strode to the back door of the shelter and set her bag down. Mama dog stuck her nose inside, checking her pups.Izzy chewed on her thumbnail. Damn it. She couldn’t just leave the puppies on the cold cement. Popping open her SUV’s rear door, she dumped out the contents of Ana’s milk crate. She padded it with the old towel. Returning to the puppies, she pulled them from her bag and laid them in the crate. Setting it to the side of the shelter’s back door, she brushed her hands together. There. She’d drive down the block, make a call, and someone from the shelter would come out back and find the dogs, giving the animals the help they needed. Problem solved.Flicking dirt off her skirt, Izzy turned to the mother. “Stay right here, and you’ll be fed and bathed soon.” The dog stared at her, her large brown eyes fathomless. Izzy lowered her own gaze and scuffed her toe along the ground. “There’s nothing wrong with me leaving. I did my part. Now you just sit right there and everything will be fine.”Ignoring the tightness in her chest, Izzy turned to go. And spun back. She peered into the crate and saw four black and brown bundles of fur. She counted again. She looked inside her empty bag. “Where the devil did that one go?” Hands on her hips, she glared at the dog. “You were supposed to watch your babies.”The dog lay down on her stomach and stretched out her legs, seemingly unconcerned she was down a pup.Izzy checked her SUV. No puppy. She knew the troublemaker had gone in there. He hadn’t been left at the apartments. He must have escaped her purse when she’d set it down by the shelter’s back door. She searched the alley, toeing aside empty cardboard boxes, worrying over the bits of broken glass that could stick into little doggy paws.A tiny black tail disappeared under a dumpster.Izzy strode to the industrial bin. Squatting, she tapped her nails on the pavement. “No more hide-and-seek. Time to come out.” Nothing. Going to her SUV, she came back with a handful of goldfish and placed them by her feet. “I’ve got yummy food for you, you little brat,” she said in her most soothing voice. “Come on out.” Still nothing.A car backfired one street over, and Izzy glanced down the alley. Growling, she clambered down onto her hands and knees, peering under the dumpster. She didn’t have time for this. Thank God she’d put her foot down when Ana had pleaded for a pet. Nothing but pains in the ass, every one of them.A pair of eyes glittered in the dim light. Reaching out as far as her arm would allow, Izzy felt the soft swipe of a tongue on her finger. A pebble dug into the knee of her nylons, and she winced. She pressed her shoulders lower to the ground, her skirt riding up her thighs, and stretched farther under the dumpster. She gently encircled the warm body. “Got you.”“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a deep voice bellowed.With a squeak, Izzy pulled the puppy out and toppled to her butt. Heart pounding, she looked up, over worn jeans stretched taut across muscled thighs. Up over a faded T-shirt that spanned a wide chest and broad shoulders. Up over full lips and narrowed eyes. The man carried a bag of garbage in his hand and a thunderous expression on his face.He chucked the bag over her head into the open dumpster. Leaving his large hands free to clench into fists. “Where do you get off dumping your dogs like they’re garbage? You think you can abandon an animal without there being consequences?” Slapping one hand on the dumpster, he leaned over her, his frame blocking out the sun. “Not on my watch, you won’t.”Clutching the puppy to her chest, Izzy opened her mouth, ready to come up with a good story. Something that would explain how she’d found the dogs without mentioning her illegal entry or just what she was doing in the neighborhood. She was a salesperson, after all. Getting people to believe in her was what she did.No words came. The man’s eyes turned to slits, and her stomach hardened to lead. A burst of energy rocketed through her body, making her limbs tingle and clouding her brain. Shoving the puppy at the man’s stomach so he had no choice but to grab it, Izzy jumped to her feet and ran.

Holiday Sale!

All four of my Pineville romance novels are on sale, from 11/26/17 to 1/7/18! Perfect reads to relax from the holiday stress, if I do say so myself. ;)PUTTING OUT OLD FLAMES -$1.99AmazonB&NiBookKoboGoogleTHE CHRISTMAS TREE -$1.99AmazonB&NiBookKoboGoogleWHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU? - Just .99 cents!AmazonB&NiBookKoboGoogleTHE CHRISTMAS WEDDING SWAP - $1.99AmazonB&NiBookKoboGoogle