Casey Hays's Blog, page 3
December 20, 2016
“The Nearly-Jilted Quilt” by Sarah Negovetich
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
“The Nearly-Jilted Quilt”
[image error]I absolutely love Christmas and my favorite part about it is giving gifts, but…
I suck at it.
Yep, you heard it here first. I am complete rubbish at giving gifts.
No matter how hard I think about it or how well I know a person, I can never figure out just the right gift to give them. Then I see what other people chose and wonder why I didn’t think of that. Truly, my gift giving skills are the equivalent of getting a toaster for your birthday.
Except one year I nailed it.
And not just in a ‘oh what a great idea’ kind of way. I really hit it out of the park with a handmade t-shirt quilt for one of my sisters. She told my mom to toss a huge box of her high school t-shirts, but I snatched them up and made her a quilt that was a sight to behold.
It took me months to finish it, but the completed quilt was perfect.
I couldn’t wait for her to open it. Except it almost didn’t happen.
The day I was set to fly home, a blizzard hit Cincinnati. Not a snowstorm. A blizzard. The kind that shuts down an entire city, including the airport. My 8am flight didn’t leave until 11pm. Fifteen hours later than scheduled, a skeleton crew hustled us to Ohio in a brief storm break.
I got to Ohio in one piece. My luggage didn’t arrive. The luggage that contained all my Christmas presents, including an irreplaceable quilt.
The airline was sympathetic, but given the weather, they had no idea when or if my luggage would arrive. I grabbed a pack of underwear and a toothbrush from Walmart and hoped for the best.
For three days I sweated it out, until Christmas morning came. I got a call that my bag was in. We “rushed” to the airport. And by rushed, I mean we crawled at a snail’s pace for a 90 minute trip that would normally take us 30.
At the airport, bags were stacked everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.
Where there wasn’t a bag, there were people. People lounging on benches, filling the restaurants, and camped out on the floor. People who would be spending their Christmas day at the airport instead of with their family and loved ones.
Long story short, I got my bag, quilt intact and my sister loved it.
But the best part of that Christmas wasn’t finally nailing my gift giving. It was spending it surrounded by my family. Not everyone is that lucky, and that Christmas I saw the faces of those who wouldn’t be making it home.
No matter how many wonderful gifts I receive or how many awful gifts I give, my favorite part of Christmas will always be spending it with my family.
[image error]Sarah Negovetich knows you don’t know how to pronounce her name and she’s okay with that.
Her first love is Young Adult novels, because at seventeen the world is your oyster. Only oysters are slimy and more than a little salty; it’s accurate if not exactly motivational. We should come up with a better cliché.
Sarah divides her time between writing YA books that her husband won’t read and raising two beautiful little girls. Her life’s goal is to be only a mildly embarrassing mom when her kids hit their teens.
Find out more about Sarah here:
Sarah Negovetich
Author, Agent, & Marketing Lady
www.sarahnegovetich.com
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RITE OF REJECTION (December, 2014)
RITE OF REVELATION (December, 2015)
RITE OF REDEMPTION (June, 2016)
December 19, 2016
“Find Joy. Be Joy. Spread Joy.” by Caroline A. Gill
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a Giveaway at the end of each post.*
“Find Joy. Be Joy. Spread Joy.” @writesuntildawn
[image error]One word: Optimism. Ridiculous, Enthusiastic, Get-out-of-Bed and Go-Even-When-Life-Sucks attitude. The one that you can only harness if you start out by sheer will faking it. That same glow that surrounds people who are in the midst of trials, the mark of their inner joy.
No one is truly happy. No one is completely free. We live in a frail, fragile mortal world.
These things hold us to each other, these heavy responsibilities and duties, rules, and manners, they are the ropes that bind us down or the self-same ropes that pull our hearts up when guided by steady hands.
Optimism is not based on wealth, health, society, or gender. It is literally the product of mankind’s search for meaning in a corrupt world. Optimism is the bright light of hope that shines across the gray and confusion. When you see someone freely sharing cheer and kindness, hope and joy– you can’t help falling in love with them a little bit.
When the season’s cold and festive holiday atmosphere leaves you isolated, alone, displaced in the middle of a crowd, it’s in those darkest moments that optimism’s light shines the brightest. In the simple smile, in a moment of compassion, in one person full of hope that can ignite a room, that can change a human heart.
Here is the real secret: Optimists do not measure the cup by the water in it. They don’t care if it’s half-full or half-empty. They are grateful for the cup and want you to drink with them. They don’t expect life to be easy. They embrace the temptations, the trials, the pain, the sorrow because those things teach patience.
What’s the point? You ask. Why expend the energy? Endurance. That is the end product of Hope and Optimism. The understanding that like every other season in life, this storm will also pass eventually. But that ducking your head down and shouldering through isn’t the only way to weather a storm. Isolating and withdrawing are the easy ways to push through the muck of life…. But optimists choose to dance in the mud, in the rain, with or without umbrellas.
There is something to be said in the darkest of places for throwing off the duties that chain us and taking a chance. Embracing vulnerability. Expecting to look foolish and choosing not to care anyway. Throwing caution to the wind and dancing like no one’s watching. Because no one is– Except the other brave souls who are also looking with wonder at the power and might of the raging storm and jumping in every rain puddle they can find.
Admit it: the best part about being in the midst of a flood is driving fast enough through the puddles that the water sprays into the air under your tires. You marvel at the sheer force of nature that surrounds you. And realize that you are that very same force.
Find joy. Be joy. Spread joy. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
Unusual stories attract me, ones in which the reader cannot easily see the ending or most of the journey. [image error]Visiting Rome during university studies, I found a simple truth sitting on buses, traveling all over the ancient city: the joy is in the Journey, in the people I meet, not in the destination. So, I write for you. I write for sanity. I write for chocolate and really good pizza.
I’m from a little town in southern California called Coronado. I grew up surrounded with waves, beaches, and the Navy. A daughter and grand daughter of navy pilots, the wonder of flight has always been strong in my heart. Attending UCLA BFA and Northern Illinois University MFA, MA, I learned so much of the wisdom of creative people. There have been so many mentors, so many friends.
A Home Manager, unpaid driver, cook, and crayon consultant, I started writing again when I was 36. I wrote a thousand pages before I started on Flying Away. Before Iolani Bearse took over a bit of my world. And then Valen Kildrake showed up. And Adelinde. And Rora. And Kyrie, and Cheesie. They just keep knocking on the door of my imagination, and I keep answering that summons.
Find out more about Caroline at:
http://www.authorcarolineagill.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Author-Caroline-A-Gill-545423068830114/
December 18, 2016
“The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” by TK Carter
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
“The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”
[image error]Christmas – just that one word holds a multitude of meanings and brings a flood of emotions in two syllables. Some people squeal with delight; others throw their heads in their hands and groan, and most giggle like children with excitement while a silent minority just wait for this season to pass.
A blanket of anticipation and magical bliss drapes across the shoulders of the world, and the spirit of joy wraps around the body of Christians and non-believers alike. Colorful lights, silver bows, trees adorned in collections of ornaments and memories from years gone by, soft music, and the smell of Christmas goodies are only a few of the traditions that I look forward to during this holiday season. For one month out of the year, we get a temporary reprieve from life already in progress and get a chance to experience the season of joy. Retailers go to great lengths to create an air of happiness and warmth in their stores; people look at each other a little longer, smile a little bigger, and hug a little tighter. Communities pull together to bless underprivileged children and families with gifts and meals they may otherwise not have had.
This can also be the toughest, most stressful month of the year as parents struggle with weighing price tags against the hope-filled eyes of their children and wonder how they’re ever going to pull this off. Families celebrating the season with one empty chair left by a loved one who died or left the family home try to find a way to make the season normal when it feels so foreign to even celebrate. Hearts are tugged a little harder during this season of joy.
But there is so much more than the secular traditions in this holiday season. The foundation of the Christmas season came to us in the form of a miracle baby named Jesus – a baby conceived by a normal woman who submitted herself to the will of God, who was trusted and empowered by God on the throne to carry and raise the child who would become the ultimate sacrifice for our sins. Scriptures from the Old Testament were fulfilled with the virgin-birth of Jesus, and it was undeniable that God’s word was true, and He was faithful to His people. Everything prophesied about Jesus’s birth manifested on that night in Bethlehem. Our Savior was born. That’s the majestic power and proof of God’s unfailing love for His children. That’s the gift that keeps on giving as day after day, we continue to have His love poured over us. That’s the Spirit that manifests as we remove our life’s blinders and see with His eyes what He sees year-round. Love, compassion, joy, peace – none of these things are brought on by twinkling lights and nostalgic carols; it’s His Spirit touching us in ways we may not allow during other times of the year.
Perhaps the best gift of all is knowing we don’t have to wait for one month out of the year to experience God on that level. His gifts, His promises, His mercies are available to us every day, every hour, every minute, and His love for us is unending no matter what.
[image error]TK Carter is a Southern born-and-bred middle child with all the complexes that accompany this birth order. Tami, as she is casually known, was raised in mid-Missouri and now lives in Centralia. She has two children, two dogs, a mortgage, and a dream. She loves the color red, anything shiny, and has an unnatural love for peanut butter Snickers, Diet Coke, and Dubsmash mixed with a bitter relationship with workouts, a Fitbit, and weight loss. To accommodate the mood swings, she writes contemporary humorous women’s fiction, dramatic fiction, and dystopian suspense novels.
In response to her chaotic, single life as a divorced mother and head of household, she started a hilarious blog called My Ms. Adventures where she holds nothing back as she tells exactly what it’s like to be her.
She loves her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and thanks God every day that in her darkest times, He never gave up on her.
For a complete list of her work, visit tkcarter-author.com
December 17, 2016
“Granny and Grandpa’s House” by Mary Shotwell
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Granny and Grandpa’s House”
[image error]I wasn’t quite sure what to write about. What could I possibly NOT like about Christmas? I love the Christmas season. Admittedly, every year I begin listening to Christmas music a little earlier than the previous. I believe I started sometime in August this year. Only instrumental though. That’s how I justify it.
When Casey was generous enough to think of me to contribute an article, I kept changing my mind on my topic. However, my grandmother passed away a few weeks ago, and my younger brother and I stayed up late one night discussing our memories of “Granny and Grandpa’s house.”
On Christmas Eve, my family and I would attend 4 o’clock Mass. I enjoyed the music and Christmas spirit, but couldn’t wait to get to Granny’s house. The winding fifty-minute drive through rural Ohio/Pennsylvania made it all the more special. The nine of us packed into our van, and just at that point we were aching to get out, we would arrive in Ambridge, PA—turn left up the hill after the sign with the duck, then right on the second street to the white house on the right. Looking back on the house as an adult, it was incredibly small for how many people fit in there during the holidays.
We would walk on the pebbled sidewalk around the back, down the hill to the basement door. We were always the last family to arrive, and everyone would cheer when we stepped through the door. Grandpa had an obsession with tropical birds, and a bird chirp would sound off whenever the door opened. The basement had a huge white basin sink to the left. The floor was carpeted with the thinnest blue carpet that couldn’t have had carpet padding, and if I’m remembering correctly, the floor had a slope to it as if a drain were placed in the middle of the room. A bench fit under the stairway to the rest of the house above (my spot to open gifts), and Grandpa’s workshop sat along the other half of the stairs.
The room was taken up mostly by a long table set up for the feast. The plates were the fanciest I’d eat on all year. The blue design on the white china somehow made the food taste better. My grandfather was Italian, and hence our Christmas Eve feast was one of seven fishes and homemade ravioli. The Italian tradition is seven fishes (I think) but I’m not quite sure we hit that number. There was fried fish, shrimp, calamari (?; I think I was too little to realize if this was true or not), and smelts. I would be so hungry during that Mass and drive, but I swear it only took five bites of food to be full. But there was always room for the M & M’s, Hershey kisses, and homemade Christmas cookies—pizzelles, door knockers, and you know, any of those rock hard Italian cookies that beg to be eaten with coffee.
After dinner we’d open presents, and as a kid, that was my favorite part. As I grew older, I appreciated the dinner more and more. Both my grandparents are no longer with us. I’ll always miss the giant sink, the blue carpet, the fancy plates, the smell of the fish and ravioli, and the cheerful greeting mixed with the bird chirp. I am grateful my mother has carried on the Italian Christmas Eve tradition, for it is my favorite part of the Christmas season. I hope it brings its own set of warm memories for my children.
Click the Rafflecopter button to enter Mary’s Giveaway!
[image error]Mary grew up in northeast Ohio, so it was only natural for her to pursue a degree in marine biology. After studying dolphin behavior and estimating great white shark populations, she earned her Ph.D. in Biostatistics in Charleston, South Carolina. It was there, during the arduous dissertation process, where she had the idea to write a book.
With Alice and the crazy characters from Wonderland staring her down from her bedroom poster, Mary envisioned what that fantasy realm would look like in current day. Creative writing served as a natural escape from technical writing, wedding planning, pregnancy, and job hunting.
Mary is excited to debut Weariland (Merge Publishing, 2016), a novel introducing Lason Davies, a teenager who learns about her family’s past in a world once called Wonderland. She currently resides in Tennessee with her husband and three children.
Find out more about Mary at:
https://www.facebook.com/maryshotwellauthor
December 16, 2016
“Celebrating Us Again” by Courtney Ruggles
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Celebrating Us Again”
[image error]How can I pick one of my favorite things about Christmas? From my decorations, which make me feel like I’m partially living in a winter cottage on the North Pole, to watching my son run around in his awesome Yeti pajamas, moving that ridiculous elf around and watching my baby boy believe in its magic, driving around and looking at the neighborhood decorated in beautiful twinkling lights, the family gatherings, the food, the time together, and the giving. I could go on and on about all the things I love about this season, the anticipation building and the excitement to watch my son on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning after he realizes Santa secretly came to visit. This is going to be such a fun year for my family and I can’t wait.
But I want to focus on another family of mine in this post. This part of my family isn’t connected by blood and none of us look alike, yet some of us have been together since we were young. My husband and I built our house three years ago, and we just hosted our third annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party. In those three years, it has been a tradition that feels it’s always been embedded for us and our friends. We drop our kids (some with a lot of hair and slobber and others who talk and walk like little elves) off with their babysitters and gather in our tackiest sweaters, laughing at each other’s attire as we greet one another. We hug and quickly catch up, some of us not seeing each other for months, others just a few days. We sit around eating delicious dips, laughing about old times in college and enlightening those who weren’t with us almost a decade ago about how amazing we were as college students. We laugh about old stories and the shenanigans we used to pull in the old haunted house that once stood across the street and the ridiculous beer pong games, remembering our old selves before we matured, before we married and willingly signed away to mortgages and started raising kids, both those who slobber too much and the ones that look like elves.
We sit around and partake in the hilarity of the gag gift passing game, tears streaming [image error]down our faces from the obscene and completely inappropriate gifts (except mine, I made coal out of rice krispie treats. I can’t mention the others). And I love every minute of it. Because here is my family whom I don’t see every day, nor do I talk to these people every day. But one of them was one of my first friends when I moved to this college town, who introduced me to my husband, and has been one of my best friends for the last decade. Two of my best girlfriends cry-laugh with me, reminding me of all our crazy stories and the love we have for each other. I was there the night two of my friends started dating and are now engaged, and I’m taking their engagement and wedding photos. One of the other guys is pretty much a second uncle to my son, and another one I met before my husband and cried at our wedding, “Everything is going to change, isn’t it?” (He was drunk, but still freaking hilarious. We adopted him as our man-child). We assured him it wouldn’t.
But the thing is, it did. Everything changed. We grew up as much as we didn’t want to, we matured despite our resistance. We’ve watched each other get married, get divorced, lose friends, gain friends, have children, move away, and move back. And every year we gather together in ridiculous outfits celebrating a holiday. But really, we’re celebrating us again and that’s one of the things I adore of this season. Celebrating with a family I chose and will continue to choose over and over again. And will always make lumps of tasty coal for.
In the holiday spirit, I want to give you all the award-winning beginning to The Domicile Series, The Sixth Domicile. All you have to do is click on the link and sign up for my newsletter for your free copy: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/X9Rmw
Happy Holidays!!!
[image error]Courtney’s love for writing dates back to short stories on a word processor (What?? Word processor with floppy disks?). Oh yes, she literally had a card filing case full of floppy disks. Now she continues her writing (she upgraded to a laptop) while living in Southern Ohio with her husband and son.
Although Courtney has always lived in Ohio, sometimes closer to the Ohio River and sometimes further away, she dreams of the mountain ranges out west and the sandy Florida beaches. She married the man of her dreams and had a beautiful blond haired blue eyed boy. Before she sought publication for her first book The Sixth Domicile: Book One of the Domicile Series, Courtney worked as a social worker in a mental health agency where she counseled and provided therapy. After she left full time work, she taught social sciences at a local university and began a photography business. The “extra” time gave her the ability to focus on writing again.
Courtney’s background in social work fuels the grit in her stories. When Courtney isn’t writing her next book, you can find her doing homework (drag) and sipping flavored coffee, reading young adult and new adult books (because social work text books are only so interesting), or daydreaming about all the future beach houses she intends to buy.
Find Courtney’s complete series here: https://www.amazon.com/Courtney-Ruggles/e/B0189ANC2K/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1481771722&sr=1-2-ent
December 15, 2016
“Christmas in the Caribbean” by Heather Letto
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Christmas in the Caribbean”
Christmas in the Caribbean. Sigh. Well, to be fair, it was the week leading up to Christmas[image error] Day, but a gift none-the-less.
Like prisoners who had found an escape from the dark tundra known to some as a Great Lakes winter, we slid our car into the icy airport parking lot and snuck on to the big ol’ jet airliner. The pilot’s promise of paradise crackled over the audio system, sending a few whoops through the cabin, yet knowing this would be the last family vacation with our newly-graduated-man-sons gave me a bittersweet moment of pause. But soon we were airborne, and with the snow at our backs and visions of white sand dancing in our heads we were ferried to the promised paradise.
The warm trade winds and vivid colors in tandem Reggae Christmas carols woke our groggy winter souls, and to say the time passed too quickly would be a grand understatement. Too soon, it was Christmas Eve morning, the day we’d travel back to the tundra. Too early for the man-cubs to join us, my husband and I dashed off to our favorite beach, just a half mile up the road and down a very steep hill. As we wound our way toward the waters, we noticed a few early bird, power-walkers covered in sweat attacking the hill for their morning workout.
“God bless them,” I mumbled, knowing my workout would include little more than floating in the clear waters.
When nearly reaching the bottom of the hill, however, we were startled to see a man sprawled out roadside and women hovering nearby. My husband quickly pulled over and we jumped out of the car.
“Is everything all right?” I asked the woman.
“He just collapsed,” she said, wringing her hands.
I looked down at the red-faced man lying at my feet. His shirt was covered in sweat and his face dripped with his exhaustion. I shook his shoulders and called out to him which rendered no response. I reached a hand to his neck and noticed the coldness of his skin as well as the absence of a pulse. I didn’t hear the commotion around me as my husband called the paramedics. I didn’t notice the nearby gate guards had come on scene. I vaguely remember the wife yelling at her husband that he couldn’t leave her, but in my sphere of reality nothing existed other than man who was quickly trying to turn blue before me. Not being a medic, just a girl who had taken her yearly CPR classes, I jumped to action with chest compressions, and watched foamy saliva trickle from the corner of his mouth. How long had I been doing compressions? I wasn’t even sure, but the unnatural color of his skin told me he needed oxygen. I looked again at the foam covered mouth. Could I do it?
Before I could make that decision, however, the power-walkers from the hill came upon the scene.
“Dad!” they cried.
I scooted out of the way as they moved in to take over and at that very moment, he opened his mouth and pulled in a breath. His face morphed from a fiery purple to a dusty rose and his lids fluttered open. I shook my head in disbelief. This man had been dead, and now….
Well, I guess you could say we experienced a miracle. A full-on Christmas miracle.
The paramedics, who move on true island-time, arrived on the scene a mere twenty minutes later. As they bustled about, my husband and I quietly snuck away. We don’t know the family, didn’t exchange numbers and most likely will never see them again this side of heaven. Yet in His grace, God allowed us to take part in their sacred Christmas miracle. Heaven-appointed, and filled with his providence.
I will always remember God’s grace from that day. Each year as the snow falls, and a Reggae Christmas Carol comes on the radio, I say a prayer for the unknown family, and with a heart full of sunshine, cherish the gift we received that year.
I’m giving away one copy of my trilogy, The Ascension Series, signed, sealed and delivered to you! All you need to do to enter is tweet “Merry Christmas!” to enter.
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8dd3cc1d9/?
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Heather Letto was born in the hills of Ohio and raised in the ‘burbs of Chicago yet fancies herself a stranger in a stranger world. She wears her creativity like a second skin and is immensely grateful to her heavenly Father who gives good gifts. The Ascension Series is her debut into the world of YA dystopia.
Check out the Ascensions series here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TEACJX8
December 14, 2016
“Christmas in the Brown House” by Christy Sloat
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
Hi I’m Christy Sloat author of The Visitors Series, The Past Lives Series, Slumber Duology and more. I wrote this Christmas story about my two characters, Brylee and Ephraim a few years ago. I figured now is the perfect time to share it with my fans and new readers. I hope you enjoy! The Visitors Series is a completed series that is based on a real haunted house here in my New Jersey hometown.
Don’t miss the giveaway at the end!
“Christmas in the Brown House”
The cold weather was getting more bearable as time went on. New Jersey weather is [image error]certainly not comparable to California weather. Most days I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my warm bed and when I did, I never took off my hoodie. December was upon us in a blink of an eye.
To be honest I was so preoccupied with school and Ephraim that I had forgotten Christmas was right around the corner. When Mom suggested we go pick out a tree I had almost asked ‘what for?’ It was our first Christmas in the Brown house and Mom really wanted to do it up. She wanted to put lights up on all the eve’s out front and make the yard look spectacular, even though no one could see it from the road. She didn’t care. Her design instincts kicked in and I was trying to prepare myself for a jolly holiday, even though I knew I wouldn’t be jolly.
The truth still remained about this house; it was haunted and no matter how much joy you spread, the ghosts were still here and Ephraim and Lyn were still cursed. We were reading every journal that Everett Brown had to try to find a cure. So far we came up empty. Mr. Brown still had several journals for us to go through and we still had time. Ephraim and Lynley were cursed because of me, sadly. If I hadn’t brought them into this house and opened the door containing the curse, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But no I had to drag them into it.
Today I was determined to not think about the ghosts that loomed here. I was going out with Ephraim today to do some holiday shopping. Nothing would get me down, not while I was with him. I dressed as warmly as I could, finishing my outfit with his coat that I wore on a regular basis. He gave it to me to keep me warm, but I kept it. It was our little ‘thing’ that made us an official couple. When the knock came from downstairs I knew he was here to get me. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. My mom was already chatting away with him about Christmas trees and inviting his family over for the holiday dinner. He said he would mention it to his mom and we left.
“What’s wrong,” he asked once we were in the truck. I didn’t know I seemed upset. I had a smile plastered to my face once I saw him.
“Nothing. Why do you ask?”
“You look overly happy,” he laughed. “We’re only going shopping ya know?” I knew Ephraim and he hated shopping. He was only taking me because he knew I needed to go, not because he chose to.
“Maybe we can do something after we’re done,” I suggested. He smiled and we discussed ideas on the drive to the mall. I had no clue what to do here in the winter still. He took over the conversation, “I will think of something fun. Let’s just get this shopping thing done.”
“Yes sir,” I joked. He reached across and pulled me closer to him and I rested my head on his shoulder. To me Ephraim was still himself. Unharmed. Uncursed.
The mall was a mad house. Luckily I only needed a few things for Lynley since I got my parents books online. Lynley proved to be a bit more difficult in the gift department. I found perfume that suited her, a new frame for a picture of the two of us and finally a new purse. Hers was tattered and worn and she desperately needed a new one. I grabbed Ephraim’s hand. “I am officially all done.”
“Oh really? Did you get anything for your boyfriend in those bags?” he asked as he tried to sneak a peek. I pulled them away from his grasp teasingly. “You have to wait and find out.” The truth was I hadn’t gotten him anything. He was more difficult to buy for than anyone I ever met. I didn’t want to get him just any gift. It had to be perfect and show my love for him. He pulled me into his arms in front of the whole mall and kissed me. Some people stared and some clapped. Was it so odd to see affection in public?
“Come on I have a surprise for you.” I followed him out the door with his kiss still on my lips.
We arrived at a small Christmas tree farm a little bit out of town. It was all lit up with white lights and the cold brisk air added the holiday feeling. This was what it should feel like during Christmas, cold weather and a warm companion at your side. I still didn’t know what we were doing here.
“I need your help picking out a tree,” he said as he put his beanie on my head. “We already have one but I want one for us.” It was the ultimate romantic gesture. Only I didn’t know where we would put it.
“For where?”
“A live Christmas tree Brylee. We will put it up in your room and after the holidays we will plant it in your yard.”
A tree for us basically. He wanted to put a tree in the room where we spent the most time, my room. Ephraim snuck in my room almost every night of the week. Now we would have our own tree to share.
We walked slowly through the trees and looked for the perfect one to call ours.
“Oh look at this one,” Ephraim exclaimed. The tree was short and thin. It looked almost dead. I couldn’t believe he would choose such a tree.
“This one, for real?”
“Why not? All it needs is a little love and care and it will grow into a big tree someday.” I loved Ephraim’s big heart and how he could see hope in something so desolate. It was almost how he saw there was something special about me. Even when I didn’t see it, he did.
“Okay then, this is the one,” I said with a smile.
We arrived back to my house with the small tree in the bed of his truck. It was live so it needed water and to be tended to. I helped him carry it up to my room, past my parent’s awkward glances. Who knew what was going on in their heads? We set it by the window and filled up the water. It needed decorations and stat.
“I’ll go get the extra bulbs in the basement,” I told him as he trimmed off the dead branches. He nodded and I walked down the stairs facing my parents. “I just need extra decorations in the basement, is that okay?”
“Sure!” Mom said as she went back to watching T.V.
I opened the basement door with a shove and it almost sighed as I leaned in. The room had some bad memories for me. I had been locked inside by a spirit. The only thing was that I never saw who it was that locked me inside. As frightening as it all had been the ghost was merely trying to tell me something important. They weren’t trying to harm me.
With that in mind I searched the room for the extra decorations. I found them in a box that was covered in small alien-like bugs. Stink bungs. UGH! I shoved them off and grabbed the one’s I wanted. When I had a good bag full I cleaned my mess and put the box back.
I turned to leave and was met with a mist that usually turns into a ghost. I watched as the ghost formed in front of me revealing a young woman with blonde hair. She looked past me, not noticing my presence.
“Hello,” I croaked. No matter how many I have seen they freaked me out. She didn’t respond.
She walked towards me and my adrenaline pumped. Maybe she wanted to harm me. I moved out of her way as she continued to walk towards the furnace. She stopped and put her hand on it.
“No!” she wailed. “No don’t kill my sister!”
“Miss are you hurt?” My hands shook and I tried desperately to keep them still.
“You’re not going to help them. They’re doomed,” she turned and walked right into me disappearing and leaving her mist behind. I dropped the decorations and bolted.
Ephraim met me halfway up the stairs and I ran into his arms. My sobs were more from sorrow than fear. I was too afraid of what could happen to Ephraim and Lynley. She must have meant them when she said they were doomed.
“Brylee, what’s wrong? What happened?” He pulled my face up to his and dried my tears.
“I saw one, in the basement.” I was very careful around my parents. I knew better than to share my secrets with them. He knew what I meant and told me to sit on the landing. He went into the basement and retrieved the decorations for me. Then we went back into my room and continued what we were set out to do.
“Brylee, don’t worry yourself over ghosts. I am here to protect you.” he said as he set the star atop the tree.
The next day I woke up to Ephraim snoring in my ear. He wasn’t supposed to stay over, but he sometimes did. I usually had the whole floor to myself and my parents rarely came into it. I shook him gently to wake him. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled.
“Merry Christmas,” I said. He reached up and kissed me. All my fears of the night before had dissolved and I was happy to be here in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, Brylee,” he said into my ear. I was never happier than in his arms even in this haunted house. I didn’t want anything more than to be with him. Even if that meant dealing with a few ghosts every once in a while. My present to Ephraim would be helping him get rid of this terrible curse. I couldn’t have him end up like the ghost’s here.
We cuddled for a few minutes more before he slipped out of my window and back to his house. I curled up back in bed and stared at my new tree. It was the best tree I had ever had, because it was ours. It would live on forever in my yard somewhere after we planted it. As I fell asleep I could think of nothing more than Ephraim and I watching the tree grow over the coming years. I would make sure that happened no matter what.
If you liked this story, check out the book that it is based on. The Brown House Book one of The Visitors Series. Stay tuned for two new books from me in 2017! The Survival Pact and The Librarian from CHBB publishing.
Merry Christmas!
Click to enter Christy’s Rafflecopter Giveaway!
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Christy Sloat resides in New Jersey with her husband, two daughters and her Chihuahua, Sophie. Christy has embraced the love of reading and writing since her youth and was inspired by her grandmother’s loving support. She loves adventurous journeys with her friends and can be known to get lost inside a bookstore. She is the Best Selling author of ten novels including, The Visitors Series, The Past Lives Series and Slumber.
Connect with Christy!
http://www.christysloat.com
http://www.amazon.com/Christy-Sloat/e/B0071MMCU6/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5445209.Christy_Sloat
https://www.facebook.com/christysloatauthor
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December 13, 2016
“Christmas by-the-Sea” by Audrey Rich
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Christmas by-the-Sea”
[image error]One of my favorite things about Christmas can be found at the Church of Bethesda-by-the-Sea in the Town of Palm Beach. My family and I try to visit the church several times during December because of life size figures being moved toward the outdoor nativity scene.
Everyone walking or driving by can see the three kings, the animals, and the shepherds making their way to the small structure representing a barn where Mary and Joseph await baby Jesus.
I love how this church has taken the nativity scene and transformed it into a daily reminder of what the Christmas season is all about: the birth of Christ[image error]
Can you see the lazy donkey in my picture? Or the tiny lambs? Or the kings with their treasures? They will continue their journey until the 24th where they join the family in the open barn.
How about you? Any favorite thing you want to share?
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[image error]Born in New York City to immigrant parents, Audrey Rich graduated from Columbia University with a B.A. in Comparative Literature and a minor in Spanish. Before pursuing her M.B.A. in Accounting from Pace University, she worked on Wall Street and a NYC hospital as a Research Lab Assistant.
Audrey is an inactive C.P.A., a wife, a mother of teenage children, and is editing the next book in the Stonehaven High Series I. She hopes to finish by the end of October.
She enjoys volunteering at her church, teaching the Junior Achievement Economics for Success in a local middle school, and is a member of the Florida Writers Association.
facebook.com/AudreyRichAuthor
goaudreyrich.wordpress.com
goodreads.com/book/show/32799707-masquerading-our-love?ac=1&from_search=true
Be sure to catch Audreys $0.99 sale from December 13-26! Here are the links to her book!
[image error]www.amazon.com/dp/B01N09BGWD
itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1175976673
barnesandnoble.com/w/masquerading-our-love-audrey-rich/1125091468
kobo.com/us/en/ebook/masquerading-our-love
December 12, 2016
“Have yourself a cozy little Christmas” by Heather Hildenbrand
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Have yourself a Cozy little Christmas”
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Sponsored by http://adesignerandacontractor.blogspot.com
HELLO! I am so excited to participate in Casey’s list of “favorite things” blog event! Christmas holds a LOT of favorites for me. Traditions surrounding food (although, I can’t share my Granny’s recipes, I blood-swore), family activities (opening that ONE present on Christmas Eve but only after whining/begging for it for an hour first to our parents–don’t worry, the tradition lives on with my own kids), gifts (I STILL look for 1 item to “Craft” and give as a gift each year. Even though, the craft gene skipped me, my mom instilled this in me and it won’t go away), and even books to read.
One of my absolute FAVORITE things about Christmas, though, is the coziness.
The mental images alone are all about sitting fireside sipping hot cocoa (with whiskey–wait, what?), wearing flannel PJ’s and slippers and with someone’s arm around you (hopefully, he’s not a creepy stranger that works with your Dad). Anyway, Coziness. Even when I was a kid, I loved the part where you’re lounging on the couch watching others open gifts or just soaking in the weirdly time-warped morning that feels like it goes on forever because you got up so early. And you eat breakfast and then brunch and then lunch. And you’re all fat and happy and lying there now and smiling as you listen to everyone talking about how THEY are fat and happy and lying there because it’s COZY. Christmas Eve feels cozy. Watching Elf, reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, eating leftovers–it’s all cozy.
So, am I cheating by technically saying ALL of that stuff above is my favorite? Yes.
But can I get away with it since this is my post? Absolutely.
Here’s what’s in it for you to cut me some slack that I basically just said my “favorite” thing is ALL THE THINGS:
I’m giving away “COZY” in the form of a new book to cuddle with. TWO new books, actually.
Right now, when you sign up to be a Love Bird (my newsletter updates) you get Dirty Blood and Cold Blood FREE. These are the first two books in my bestselling young adult paranormal series. You can sign up below and get cozy with my words–just like you did here!
Merry Christmas and happy cuddling!
Click the image to take you to the GIVEAWAY!
[image error]Heather Hildenbrand was born and raised in a small town in northern Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. (She’s only slightly socially awkward as a result.)
She writes Young Adult & New Adult romance including the bestselling Dirty Blood & Imitation series’. She splits her time between coastal Virginia and sunny Florida and loves having a mobile career and laptop lifestyle of living in two places. Her most frequent hobbies are riding motorcycles and avoiding killer slugs.
Heather is also a publishing and success coach dedicated to teaching fellow writers how to create their own Laptop Lifestyle. For more information visit www.fictionauthorcoach.com.
You can find out more about Heather and her books at http://heatherhildenbrand.com/
December 11, 2016
“Christmas Magic” (a tale from Broken Earth) by Lee Ryder
This Christmas season, I’ve decided to do something a little different. I’ve invited 24 authors to share some of their favorite things about the holidays. I hope you enjoy the 24 days of Christmas countdown with “These are a few of my Favorite Things.” Enjoy! ~Casey Hays
*Be sure to look for a GIVEWAY at the end of each segment.*
“Christmas Magic” (a tale from Broken Earth)
Thank you
To my fans for being awesome, this is my gift to you.
“Ian look!” Lucie cries scrambling to the front of the wagon.
I try desperately to keep my footing, but the sudden shift in weight on the cart makes it impossible. I fall to my knees and rip my pants.
“Darn it Lucie!” I complain.
“You okay?” Jess asks pulling her wagon up next to mine.
“Yeah,” I answer. “Lucy is crazy is all.”
“No I’m not.” She pouts. “Look!” She points to a warehouse in the middle of the section we are traveling in.
“What do you think that is?” Jess asks.
“Not sure.” I answer. “Let’s check it out.”
“Sounds good to me lad,” Mollie says. “It’s a good place to bed down for the night.”
“Then it’s settled.” Jess agrees. “Let’s go!”
The metal door makes a loud screeching sound as I open it. The stagnant air filters out enveloping all of us in the musty smell of mildew and age. I pull out my flashlight and go inside leaving Jess, Mollie, and Lucie to protect the carts.
“How’s it look in there?” Mollie calls.
“It looks safe enough, there’s no one living here that I can see. Come on in.” I call back.
My flashlight plays off the dust in the air revealing several large items covered in tarps. Mollie and Jess bring the wagons in and we close the doors securely behind us disguising our presence.
“I’ll get the food goin’ with Jess.” Mollie suggests. “Why don’t you and Lucie explore.”
“Ready for an adventure,” I ask.
“Let’s go!” She answers excitedly.
Lucie and I go further into the warehouse picking up tarps and peeking underneath as we go along. The warehouse is dimly lit by the grimy overhead windows by the fading daylight. I find a breaker box and the building is instantly filled with an orangish light.
“Want to see what’s under these tarps?” I ask Lucie.
“Yes please!” Lucie says excitedly clapping her hands.
We pull the tarps off four or five of the large forms. Much to our surprise, we have discovered Christmas floats from a time long ago!
“Ian look!” Lucie squeals. “Look at these!”
“Do you remember Christmas?” I ask.
“Yes.” She replies enthusiastically, “Ian can we have Christmas sometime?”
“Well I don’t see why not.” I reply, “Let’s get some of this stuff, and bring it back to show Jess and Mollie.”
Lucie takes her time selecting some decorations to bring back. She is especially fond of the sparkly tinsel that adorns the floats.
“Ho Ho Ho!” I yell as we walk back into camp.
Lucie barrels by me wrapped in yards and yards of colorful tinsel bearing a box of decorations.
“What have you been doing?” Jess asks in surprise.
“We found CHRISTMAS!” Lucie yells. “It’s all over!”
“What?” Jess asks.
“This warehouse must have been a storehouse for some kind of Christmas parade. There are floats, decorations, ornaments and that’s only what we’ve uncovered so far.” I answer enthusiastically.
“Well I never.” Mollie laughs.
“After dinner can we explore some more?” Lucie pleads.
“Aye lass…” Mollie answers. “Let’s get you washed up.”
Mollie leads Lucie away listening intently as Lucie chatters on and on about Christmas, and all the beautiful things that we found.
“Soo…Christmas,” Jess says.
“Lucie is really jazzed about it.” I reply.
“Awesome, I have an idea.” Jess says winking at me.
After dinner, we spend hours exploring the floats and playing hide and seek among the decorations. We pretend to be the different characters on the floats and make up stories that leave us all laughing at the end.
Lucie is exhausted by the time we decide to return to camp and she does not resist when we suggest that it is bedtime. When she is finally asleep, we put our plan into action. Jess and I go and get the boxes of decorations we have been secretly gathering and hiding near our camp. Then we start decorating. We erect a small tree near the wagon and put presents underneath it to delight Lucie. We go to bed excited and exhausted.
The next morning we are awakened by Lucie’s shrieks of delight. Our camp is a veritable wonderland. There is nothing in the camp that is not adorned with something Christmassy. Lucie dances around giddily examining everything. Her eyes grow wide when she sees the tree with the presents.
“How did this happen?” She breathes.
“Tis Christmas magic lass.” Mollie says mystically. “Tis not for us to question why or how, it just is.”
Jess and I smile knowingly at each other, enjoying Lucie’s happiness and joy at each and every Christmas wonder she finds.
We eat breakfast before we settle around the tree to watch Lucie open her gifts. Much to our surprise, there are gifts under the tree for us too. We look at each other with confusion and delight.
“Christmas magic,” Mollie murmurs smiling.
Lucie receives several beautiful and ornate ornaments, a doll, and a huge ball of tinsel, there is also a music box that plays Jingle Bells. There is a nativity set for Mollie and a beautiful angel that plays Silent Night. She also finds a green velvet bag with a blown glass shamrock ornament inside. Jess also receives a nativity set. She also finds a red velvet bag with a cross necklace inside. I present her with a light blue cameo ornament with gold filigree painted around the outside of it. There is a shaving kit for me, a bible, and a gorgeous red silk shirt.
“I can’t believe all of this,” Lucie exclaims. “Santa must have found us.”
“Aye, he must have thought there was a little girl in need of some Christmas magic.” Mollie answers.
“Mollie, tell us a story.” Lucie begs. “A real Christmas story.”
“All right then lass, come get me book out of the cart.”
Lucie runs to the back of our cart and retrieves a weathered leather book from an old metal box. She hands the book reverently to Mollie.
“Now sit here and listen to the greatest Christmas story ever told.” Mollie says opening her book and running her fingers over the worn Braille on the brittle pages.
Jess settles back into my arms, sighing contentedly.
Mollie begins to read:
“An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ”Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Merry Christmas to you my fans, may the true meaning of Christmas bring you joy and peace during the hustle and bustle of this busy season.
~Lee Ryder
Giveaway: for an ecopy of Broken Earth comment with one of your favorite holiday traditions.
Lee Ryder is a mother of 3 children and one angel. She currently lives in New
England. She started writing small works at an early age and was featured in local publications. She studied theater and vocal performance and was featured in several plays. She believes in love at first sight and married her soul mate at age 19. She also has read reviewed and edited other published works.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MsLeesFanfiction/?fref=ts&ref=br_tf
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lian14043
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