S.J. Warner's Blog, page 9

December 6, 2015

Snow Frolics by KB Mallion #CinnamonTreats

So we are off for some fun

Going to wrap up warm

I’ll look like a sumo

Not a classy look, I warn

I know a little place

Where others hardly go

We can sledge in peace

Go wild in the crisp snow

The kids are so excited

To go on a super fast sledge

I hope they do stay on

Not fly over a bloody big hedge

I’ll whizz down the field

It’s going to be a blast

I hope my pelvic floors

Bloody do work when I laugh

Maybe they should design

A sledge with me in mind

With built in Tena Lady

And a cushion for my behind

I’ll try not to pee myself

As I squeal loud with delight

Frozen piddly trousers

Not an attractive sight

Upon our chilly return

I have a sweet little treat

Iced cinnamon twirls

To warm our chattering teeth

So off into the cold

We happily do trudge

To enjoy snow frolics

Oh snow! I love it so much!

More Snow Frolics

Holding my arms down

You kiss my needing neck

The kids are playing downstairs

I think ‘A treat? Oh what the heck’

Your cinnamon kisses rain down

Hand excitedly play

The snow has made us frisky

After a super fun sledging day

A hot mouth really does tease

A body that’s oh so cold

Onto the sumptuous bed

I’m held within your firm hold

Quick the kids are coming

Body ached with delight

Mummy and daddy at it

Would be quite a shocking sight

A snowy day quickie

Really warms the cockles

No need for any use

Of those fiddly water bottles

Let Sleeping Love Lie part one

Have you ever met someone, that as soon as your eyes fell upon them; they literally took your captivated breath away?

That not one single word has been exchanged between you, but that person has forever left an imprint on your heart?

Twelve years ago that was exactly how I felt when I first saw Will Flynn.

Me and my large group of girlie friends walked into our fave local pub in town, confident and as boisterous as you like. No sooner as I got through the door, my rowdy self was left standing with an O shaped mouth and eyes that were wide with deep longing… Just like that, I was utterly smitten! Will Flynn, unknowingly now held my heart hostage.

“Who has got your attention, Tess?” One of the girls asked.

I swallowed hard, my words lost somewhere within the depths of my captivated throat. “Who is the new barman?” I quietly asked, with my eyes remaining totally fixed on him: dilated and wide with dreamy wonder.

My friend shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea?”

“He has to be the most beautiful man that I have ever seen.” I whimsically whispered.

My friend laughed, pushing into me. “Go and buy yourself a drink, introduce yourself.”

I blinked hard, bringing myself down off the cloud I was so sweetly daydreaming on. “Oh I… I couldn’t.” I stammered, scared by just the thought of it.

“Yes you bloody can. It’s not like you to be shy. Besides, gawping at him all night is hardly the greatest of first impressions.” She dragged me towards the busy bar. My petite frame got lost in amongst all of the warm bodies who were either waiting to be served or just casually socialising.

It was true, ordinarily I was confident. Yet somehow, this desirous man had rendered me completely paralysed. I became someone who seemed incapable of stringing a simple sentence together. My pounding heart feverishly thudded against my breast, leaving me giddy with nervous anticipation.

I finally managed to squeeze my way through the sea of faces, a definite advantage of being small.

As soon as I reached the bar. I nervously waited to be served. It didn’t have to be him that served me, I was just enjoying his glorious profile.

Short dark brown hair, messily tousled on the top with a slight quiff at the front. A defined bone structure that just begged to be caressed with my appreciative fingers. His pale green eyes were an exquisite and unusual shade of caesious, spheres of masculine beauty. Those gorgeously open and captivating windows to his soul, pulled me right into wishful thoughts of being with only him.

My fingers anxiously tapped on the bar. I was just trying to keep my hands busy, trying to look demurely calm. On the inside, I was anything but, bloody calm. Part of me, the confident and vain Tess, was so very desperate for him to look my way. Then the other side of me, the lesser known, insecure and shy Tess, was too afraid to even look at him.

I did try, my very best and casual ‘I’m just standing here, innocently looking your way’ kind of a stare. It was at that exact moment that our eyes actually collided for the very first and unforgettable time. I coyly smiled, whilst my stomach did crazy somersaults. To my sweet relief he smiled, too. Quickly followed by a delicious double take at me. My heart was now pounding so hard, I was afraid that my breathing would become that erratic, I was actually going to pass out.

Feisty Tess, is yelling at me to get a grip. While the reserved Tess, is whispering calm the fuck down! My own inner argument preoccupied me, as he busily served someone at the far end of the bar. Giving me just enough time to sort myself out.

He then smiled in my direction, as he confidently strode towards me. I honestly felt as though my throat had constricted so tight, I was going to be embarrassingly unable to speak. The simple task of asking for a Vodka and Coke, now seemed too hard a task to complete. Shit! Shit! Shit! I had cursed to myself. Mortified by the thought of tripping up over my words and making a complete stammering fool of myself.

“What can I get you?” He politely asked me, with a interested grin sitting gorgeously crooked on his face.

His eyes really were the brightest spheres I had ever seen. When he looked at me, he ‘really’ looked at me… You know what I mean?

“Ummm, can I have a Vodka and Coke, please?” I remember feeling so chuffed with myself, for actually managing to string a simple request together.

Once again, he flashed me a charismatic smile. That’s when my heart and stomach started having a party together… Who could flip the most in the shortest amount of time.

I really wanted to say something interesting. Something that would make him think I had the WOW factor, but nothing and I mean, NOTHING, sprang to my cloudy little mind.

I was confused, and frankly afraid, by my overwhelming and strong feelings. For someone I had literally just met. I knew nothing about him. I just remember having this urgent need to know EVERYTHING about him.

“There you go.” He placed the drink in front of me, with yet another heart-stopping smile.

“Thanks.” I threw him a grateful look. A silent thank you for him allowing me to breathe the same air as him. Utterly ridiculous I know, but that was how he made me feel. He totally captivated me. I felt unworthy in his presence. Ordinarily, I was the girl who had a sweet and cocksure attitude that loved to have fun, but with him, I became paralysed and mute. So, to help me from freezing in his presence… I drank more voddies.

****

So that was how it was for about two weeks. Shy and torturous lingering glances, being forever thrown across the bar at one another. I couldn’t gauge whether he was just toying with me, but I quickly realised he wasn’t like the other bar men. He wasn’t like any other man I had ever met before. He was quieter, more genteel. He had a depth to him that was charismatic yet unassuming.

I had to ask around to find out his name, because of being my usual and pathetic self around him, I still hadn’t managed to ask him myself. I was eventually told that his name was Will, and it was a name that just seemed to pleasantly roll off my tongue.

So after a stern talking to myself one night, I decided that after a few more drinks… For courage you understand, I decided it was high time that I tried to say hello. Maybe?

Once again, all that passed between us, were many more bashful smiles and stares. I was starting to feel disheartened and angry with myself. Not even the alcohol had any effect on my lack of confidence whenever I was around him. He always affected me like that.

On the evening that I was trying to be brave, it was passing by all too quickly. Feeling frustrated and dejected, I decided to take my, slightly inebriated self, to the toilet. I remember being sat on the loo, silently tell myself off. I done the same, when I looked at my intoxicated reflection. Then, as I’m slowly and sulkily coming up the stairs, he’s coming out of the kitchen door. I actually forgot how to bloody breathe!

As I tried to fill my lungs with much-needed air, he stood at the far end of the small and claustrophobic hallway, while I quietly remained frozen at the other. It was like time had stopped, pausing, to let us gawp at one another for just a little while longer. We both awkwardly grinned, walking slowly towards one another; getting closer and closer.

My panicked nerves were actually making me feel sick, yet I hid it all behind a sweet and welcoming smile. “Hello.” I shyly tried to make conversation.

He coyly looked at me, tilting his head. “Hello.”

“It’s Will, isn’t it?” I asked, smiling like a fool.

He nodded gently, his eyes warm and bright. “Yes it is, what’s your name?”

“Tess.” I calmly replied.

He blinked slowly, with the hottest lopsided grin spanning right across his gorgeous face. “Hello Tess.” That was when I thought I was literally going to die a happy woman. To hear him actually say my name.

I tried to stand with a confident sexy stance, crossing my legs at the ankles. “You’ve not worked here long, have you?” I asked, desperately trying to keep my nerves at bay.

He leant against the wall, glancing at me sideways. “No I haven’t.”

“I didn’t think I had seen you before?” I told him, with eyes that wished they could forever stare at him.

Our locked gaze, was one that memorably lingered. He then looked a little embarrassed, so pushed himself away from the wall. “So, are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, seemingly now more nervous than I was.

I watched his every move, sensing that he was quickly losing confidence. “Yes thanks.” I replied with an assuring smile.

“So what do you do?” He politely asked, lifting his chin to look at me once again.

“I work in a children’s nursery.” I told him, with yet another assuring smile.

He smiled with a slightly parted mouth. “Right.”

“What do you do?” I asked, keen to find out more about the cutely shy Will.

I remember him putting his hands into his back pockets, looking sweetly boyish as he did it. “I’m hoping to do a degree next year.” He replied, proudly.

“Doing what?” I asked with keen interest.

He grinned, looking right back at me. “Engineering and Technology.”

“Clever, as well as handsome.” I actually wanted to kick myself for letting that comment slip out! With my traitorous compliment, he did his usual and adorable, coy little smirk; before looking down at the floor. Whilst I, just wanted that very same floor… To just swallow me up whole.

He then stood tall, readying himself to leave. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess.”

I actually felt gutted that he needed to go back to work, ending our brief but sweet conversation. I had so much that I wanted to say, so felt frustrated that we couldn’t. For as awkward as it was, it felt so good to have finally met him. In the end, I politely hid that frustration with a warm and parting smile. “You too.” I said, with absolute false confidence.

****

That was our ice breaker conversation. Over the next few weeks we gradually began to get closer, which was often hard to do because he was always working behind the bar. One night, he asked me whether he could walk me home. To be honest, if he had asked me to walk into my own impending doom… I would have willingly gone.

I had never met someone who was so gentlemanly and subtly sophisticated. I often wondered what the hell did he ever see in me? Okay, I was modestly attractive. I scrubbed up alright, but I wasn’t exactly what you would call a drop dead stunner.

My 5ft 2 inches body, was curvaceous in all the right places… I suppose. I knew how to dress my curves to accentuate what I had. I also knew how to conceal my less than favourable parts. My stomach, being one of them. I was never blessed with a washboard tum… It was very much a Marilyn-esque type of a tum.

My blonde highlights gave my fine hair much more definition. What I lacked in thickness of hair, I made up for with great bone structure. I had killer cheekbones and shapely lips. On many an occasion, my pale blue eyes had admiringly been commented on. Often I was told, that they were pretty or twinkly. My nose was small but not symmetrical, which annoyed the hell out of me. I only ever noticed it in photographs, hence why I hated having my picture taken.

I was a small girl with a big personality, but always seemed unable to reveal my true self to Will. Although we were certainly making progress, I was SO not used to a man so restrained and respectful. I didn’t value myself enough to think that I deserved a man, so restrained and respectful.

Standing outside of my house, we finally shared our first kiss. It was sweetly clumsy. Although I’d had better first kisses, I felt something special pass between us. It didn’t feel like a mature locking of lips. At the time, I was 25 and he was 22. It felt more like a teenage seedling of love, being grown with an innocent and pure kiss.

He walked me home the following week after that, still, he was the perfect gentlemen. I was starting to feel frustrated and more than ever confused. The lack of him trying to rip my clothes off on my doorstep, made me question what he truly felt for me. Only, I was too afraid to ask, for fear of the answer that I would get. So I kept all of that frustration within, letting it inwardly fester inside of me. Infecting everything that Will and I, had.

The less he tried to touch me, the more restless I became. The whole ‘I’m not worthy thing’ came into my mind and taunted my every waking thought. It had convinced me that although he liked me, he just didn’t like me enough to sleep with me.

Not many people knew that I wrote poems and because of my overwhelming feelings, I started to write down my thoughts about him in poems and verse. When I showed him some of my poems he was genuinely interested, impressed even. No man had ever been interested in my writing, but Will loved the fact that I wrote what was in my heart.

“There is more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there, Tess?” I’ll never forget that single sentence he once said to me.

That side of me, I freely let him see. He understood the real me. He knew that deep down, the Tess that I strutted around on show with, was not always the real me. There were layers to myself, that not even my friends had unwrapped… Yet somehow, his instincts were peeling them slowly away from me. That scared the shit out of me. I could allow him to see the creative side of me, but felt too afraid, to reveal all the other sides of me. I think that was why, I sometimes shut down around him. It was my pathetic self preservation, protectively kicking in.

I hid the needy and insecure parts of myself from everyone, very well. With an alcoholic mother and an absent father. I had learnt to suppress those weak traits, but Will brought them all to the surface without giving me time to prepare myself.

I knew that I was falling for him and that terrified the shit out of me. He was a beautiful man, both on the inside and out. At the time, I just couldn’t bear the thought of his rejection, so instead, I hitched a ride to ‘Self Destruct.’

****

The night that eventually changed everything, still makes me feel nauseous and disappointed with myself. Even after all these years, it is still too painful a thing to think about.

That fateful night, I was on a mission to enjoy myself. To act as flirtatiously as I possibly could with Will. I was determined to get him to throw down his feelings for me, once and for all. It was working a treat. I was tipsy, but not a mess. I wanted him, and I needed him to know that. I wanted him to walk me home and finally rip my clothes off on my doorstep. I wanted us to commit our bodies and minds to one another. I needed more from him.

However, all of our cheeky flirting got the attention of Mr. Saturday Night Shag. He was the bar manager. He wasn’t overly attractive but what he lacked in looks, he made up for with a shit load of arrogant confidence. I’d never even been close on his shag radar before. I wasn’t as gullible or as naive, as all of the other girls he always managed to successfully work his charms on.

This guys ego was almost as big as his list of girls who had foolishly succumbed to his self assured cockiness. I suddenly became a challenge for him. He wanted me to notice him and forget all about Will. At first, I wasn’t interested. So I just smiled sweetly and kept flirting with Will. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy all the attention that I was getting. I happily watched them both vying for my attention. For someone who is so quietly insecure, it was a big fucking deal at the time.

Somewhere along the line, though… It all started to fall apart. I don’t know whether it was because Will thought I was enjoying Ed’s obvious attempts to seduce me, way too much. Or he saw that self destructing side of me and wanted no more part of it. Whatever his reasons were, at some point he stepped back. The fooling around had gone too far. He became solemn and subdued, which only made Ed even more keen to seal the deal with me.

Near the end of the night, Ed called me over. I watched how Will’s eyes narrowed as our heads got close together as he whispered in my ear. “The next song, I’m dedicating to you.” My intrigued eyebrow rose with interest at Ed’s lustily said words.

The tune was ‘Would You Go To Bed With Me’ by Touch and Go. The vibe in the pub was buzzing, and after one too many vodkas, Ed and his wicked grin became increasingly more attractive. I know I should have spurned his advances and ran for the fucking hills, but I was in self destruct mode, remember? Will was feeling something, it was written all over his tortured face. I honestly believed he would do something about it, that he would fight for me.

As the pub got emptier, so did my heart. Will looked devastated when Ed wrapped his sneaky arms around me. I just wanted to throw mine around Will’s, as he sadly cleared the bar.

Ed was being brash and cocky. Smug and bold. Even as I sat there listening to the crap coming out of his cocky and crude mouth, I still remained there. You’d think it would have been enough for me to walk away from Ed, when I saw Will’s crestfallen face, but I was being selfish; an insecure little bitch who still wanted him to fight for me. I wanted him to fight for us. No one had ever fought for me, not even myself. Looking back, I was putting Will in an impossible situation. He didn’t understand why I was doing what I was. The only thing he understood, was how it felt.

At some point, all the staff were sat around the table. Will joined us, quietly sitting at the end of it; coldly staring in my direction. I kept evading his strong eye contact, but I could feel his disapproval being thrown at me with invisible daggers. The one and only time that I did look at him, is a moment that I will keep with me until I take my very last breath.

He silently mouthed to me. “Why are you going with him?”

That right there, should have been enough for me to get the hell out of there… But oh no! Not me! I was doing the whole self destruct thing, in destroying fucking style. So, I indignantly shrugged my shoulders, and looked away from him.

No one heard what he asked me. I was too bloody-minded and stubborn to stop and think about why he had asked me that question. I just remember, that right at that moment; I was hurting, and I wanted him to hurt, too. He wasn’t going to fight for me. He wasn’t going to fight for us. So I had nothing left to lose. The rest as they say, is ashamed history.

That night, I slept with Ed.

Want more from KB, part two will be posted Boxing day (December 26th) at 10am GMT. You can also find more from KB here…

Book links…

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 06, 2015 01:58

December 5, 2015

Found For Christmas by Amy Davies #CinnamonTreats

Found For Christmas

Chapter

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 05, 2015 01:58

December 4, 2015

The List by Chris Kuhn #CinnamonTreats

Let me be your reason

For zilch by the tree.

No list is more desired,

Do nothing nice to me.

Drape me in gift wrap,

Then tear it with glee.

Santa will be coming!

I’m sure as can be.

The most supple linens

And shiniest toys

Have nothing on me,

All my sparkle and poise.

Ditch Dasher and Dancer

Dump Donner and Blitzen

We’ve plenty of stockings

And much to stuff in them.

Protect all the villagers

From sights best unseen

Dim lights to conceal,

Send tots off to dream.

Then pillage and plunder

This village’s loot

A holiday feasting

From nightcap to boot

Let robes fall away,

And all niceties with them

No mistletoe needed,

The naughty have risen.

(Picture sourced from the internet).

Find more from Chris here…

Website Blog Facebook Twitter

Find more about her books here…

The Muse Unlocked – Amazon US The Muse Unlocked – Amazon UK

Our Seasons – Amazon US Our Seasons – Amazon UK

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 04, 2015 01:58

December 3, 2015

Make It Count by J A Heron #CinnamonTreats

“Would you pass me my cufflinks please darling,” I ask my wife. I’m all dressed up, apart from my cufflinks and dinner jacket, ready to party with my work colleagues. It’s that time of year – party season. The season of over indulgence, presents, so much sparkle, one could be blinded by the dazzle of tinsel and baubles. It’s not my favourite time of year, but I like to make an appearance, like a good boss should. Every year I host a lavish Christmas party for all my staff and board members. With no expense spared, we lay on enough champagne to sink a battleship. There’s beluga caviar, smoked salmon and so much other food that we could feed a small country. With two days until Christmas day, I’m in an excitable mood and ready to party.

“Here you are baby.” My wife – Celine, hands me my platinum cufflinks with diamonds set in them. “I hope you’re not planning on getting drunk again this year. You know how I hate it when you get so drunk you can’t stand up.”

“No, dear,” I placate her as she walks away to finish getting ready. “Chance would be a fine thing,” I whisper under my breath as not to upset her with my comment.

A few minutes later she steps out of our built in wardrobe. “How do I look?” She asks me.

“You look sensational,” I tell her, standing up to embrace her.

“Please don’t,” she admonishes. “Do you know how much time and effort it’s taken to look like this? Please don’t ruin it by trying to hug me.”

“Yes, dear,” I say, feeling dejected. We’ve been married for twenty-two years and trust me when I say the novelty has well and truly worn off. We were happy once upon a time, but now, we both know that our love life is diminishing… fast.

Certain aspects of our marriage remain true, like her ability to spend money like it’s going out of fashion. She likes to go on endless shopping spree’s, have lunch and dinner dates with her high society friends and she insists that we go on luxurious and extravagant holidays twice a year. I don’t begrudge her anything, but sometimes I wish she could go at least one day without spending money, my money. It’s because of me that she has these things, it’s because of me that she has friends who are at the top of the food chain, in societal terms anyhow. We both came from nothing. I have worked my ass off to have a successful media company, she’s just flitted through life without a care in the world. Sometimes I despise her and resent her for the things she does, I especially can’t be around her when she’s having one of her many gatherings of so many snobbish cows I want to poke my own eyes out with a red hot poker. No… I’m not bitter at all, I think to myself, then release a small chuckle at my own thoughts. I love her, I always have, but to be honest, I’m starting to think that our marriage has run its course. I’ve been thinking about the ‘D’ word for a while now and I’m quite happy to be on my own, work hard and find something worthwhile and meaningful to my life. I’m quite happy to give her some of my estate and then we can part ways. I know she’s never going to change. I have aspirations, I see myself doing good, doing something worthwhile for people who are struggling to survive in some way. When I’ve mentioned this to Celine in the past, she’d screw up her nose, letting me know that she’s displeased with my ideas.

One day, perhaps.

“Ben!” Celine bellows. “Martin has just arrived, it’s time to go.” She announces the arrival of my driver. I am more than ready to leave. At least I won’t have to spend the night in just the company of Celine. I will have other people to talk to, people who actually like talking to me. I’m thankful for that small mercy.

***

I step out of my Bentley. At least I haven’t lost my gentlemanly instincts. I reach out, offering Celine some support as she vacates the car. “Thank you darling,” she utters, flicking her long chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, revealing her bare skin. She’s wearing a strapless red dress; the hem skims the floor, hiding her shoes that cost me a fortune. Her whole outfit cost me an arm and a leg, just like all the jewels in her ears, around her neck and on her fingers. I try to push the resentment aside; I’m determined to have a little fun tonight, even if my wife counts how many drinks I consume.

“Spare change?” I hear a voice say as I’m leading Celine inside the luxury hotel. I look down to see a homeless person sitting on the cold, hard floor. My heart instantly aches for the woman sitting with her back against the wall of the brown stone building. Something deep inside my mind recognises the voice, but I’m not able to dwell on it for long, because my wife tugs on my arm, pulling me inside.

Celine storms up to the concierge, pulling me along with her. “Excuse me! There is a tramp outside and she’s making the place look very untidy.” I scowl at Celine. That’s a dreadful thing to say. Even he’s a little taken aback by her flippant comment.

“Celine!” I bark sharply.

“Yes!” She says with her hand on her hip and a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Her eyes stare into mine, making me feel small, I feel my balls shrink too. I really need to grow a backbone to stand up to her. Tonight and in this hotel is neither the time, nor the place. I do intend on having words with Celine, as soon as we’re alone. The last thing I want to do is cause a scene in the middle of a company function, especially not a Christmas one. My glad tidings and good cheer disappeared the moment my wife behaved like a snob. I’m not really feeling the Christmas spirit, so I intend to drink it instead. I don’t give a shit what she thinks.

***

As we enter the conference suite, we’re immediately handed a glass of bubbly, I take a long swig, almost emptying the glass in one mouthful. I don’t miss the ‘tut’ from beside me – I guess Celine has started counting already. There is a strong smell in the air of cinnamon and other spices from warmed mince pies and various other festive treats. There is a huge array of food on the buffet tables. It smells like Christmas. We’ve really gone to town on the Christmas tree and decorations too. Festive music is being played by a DJ. He may as well have just stuck a compact disc on repeat, playing every song from a Christmas compilation album. I would have preferred a live band, but everyone insisted on a DJ to provide the entertainment.

I take some joy and delight in seeing some people singing and dancing on the dance floor already, moving like they’ve had one too many glasses of champagne and it’s not even 10pm yet. My staff and colleagues are having a great time, which makes me feel happy inside. Our Christmas parties never fail, everyone comes each year and even new employees thank me for a great party.

I walk around the room, thankfully by myself as Celine has found some people to bore with her mindless chatter. I shake hands with board members, receive kisses on the cheek from some of the ladies and I even get propositioned for a kiss under the mistletoe, which I accept. Celine won’t even bat an eyelid at my public display with other women, she’ll just tut again and say I’m being uncouth. I struggle to pinpoint the time and date my wife turned into an insufferable snob, it must have been a while back, because I can’t even remember. I’m determined to enjoy this evening, it has cost me a lot of money, like it does every year, but it’s worth every penny to reward my employees for a job well done throughout the year.

Christmas seems to bring out the best in people, they smile a lot more through the festive season and some like to do at least one good deed for someone less fortunate than themselves. Unless your name is Celine Lawson, my wife, the selfish bitch.

I shake my head, ridding the thoughts of that cow and her egotistical disposition. She’s not by my side to ruin my night, thankfully, but she’s still my wife, ruining my life.

I don’t usually dance in public, I think the last time I danced was our first dance the day Celine and I got married. It was a happy day, what the hell went wrong? I shake my head again, then walk towards the dance floor. “Yes!” A few party goers shout out. “He’s actually dancing.” I hear someone say. I smile and begin strutting my stuff, but I’m pretty sure I’m an embarrassment. This is my rendition of ‘dad dancing’. But who cares? It’s Christmas.

Classic Christmas songs being played are causing everyone to dance like maniacs; I don’t think I’ve laughed as hard as I have tonight for a very long time.

***

By the end of the evening, the room is in chaos and there is enough food left over to feed an entire army. Many people are still singing Christmas songs, acapella as the DJ has already started to pack up his equipment. The hotel staff begin ushering people out of the room, keen to be finishing work for the evening so that they can go home. “Martin is on his way, darling,” Celine says in that annoying (put on) voice. It makes me cringe.

We say a few last minute goodbyes and wish everyone a ‘Merry Christmas’, then we leave.

I step outside; the cold December wind hits my face, making me shudder. I close the buttons on my long black wool coat, then pull on my gloves and tie my scarf around my neck. When I look down, the girl who was there at the beginning of the evening is back. She’s wrapped up in a dirty sleeping bag. It looks like she’s asleep, but I’m not so sure. How easy is it to sleep on the cold busy streets in minus temperatures? I’ve never had to find out and I hope I never do. I find myself staring at her for a moment or two, just watching and unable to stop myself. “Where is Martin?” I hear Celine say impatiently, but I’m not paying attention, I’m transfixed on the bedraggled looking woman sitting like a statue on the pavement.

I walk over, then crouch down on my haunches. “Hello,” I say looking for any sign that she’s awake, or alive.

“Oh my God. Is she still here? We should write a poor review for this hotel. How they allow vermin to litter up this fine establishment is beyond me.” I ignore the comment from the poisonous bitch who’s standing beside me, looking down at this poor girl like she’s shit on her shoe. There’s no reaction from the girl, I start to worry. I reach out to feel a pulse, it’s there, but very weak. I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, if my suspicions are correct, I’d say she’s suffering from hypothermia and perhaps malnutrition too, judging by the size of her. I immediately pull out my phone and call 999.

“Go inside if you’re cold,” I bark at Celine. She looks dumbfounded at me, but turns on her expensive heels and struts back into the hotel.

While waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I call Martin. “You have the rest of the evening off,” I tell him.

“Yes, sir, if you’re sure?”

“Perfectly.” I end the call. The next thing I do shocks even me. I instruct the concierge to watch the girl who’s still motionless. I walk into the hotel and find Celine sitting in a red velvet chair close to the reception desk.

I walk up the pretty girl and book a single room. “How long is your stay?” She asks me.

“Indefinitely,” I tell her. “Charge anything she wants to this credit card,” I pass her my plastic and wait while she processes my request.

“Thank you, sir,” the lady says. I nod.

When I reach Celine, she’s passing the time by fiddling with her fake fingernails. “You have a room. I will ask Martin to bring you some clothes and your other shit tomorrow. You’re not welcome in my home and I will be filing for divorce as soon as my Lawyer’s office is open in the new year. Don’t call, don’t email, in fact, don’t bother contacting me again… ever!” I see the tears in her eyes, but after all the shit I’ve put up with from her, I feel that this is the right time to cut ties and move on. Tonight was the last straw. Her compassion for other people is non-existent and her love for me is no more. I’m not blind, I can see perfectly clear, I can see that she’s only with me because of my money. I will not cower to her crocodile tears. “You’re on your own!”

When I look towards the exit, I see the blue flashing lights, so I know the ambulance has arrived. I walk away from my wife without a second glance. I’m prepared to go through a messy divorce, I’m prepared for the backlash that ending our marriage will bring.

When I get outside, the girl has been moved from the ground and into the back of the ambulance. I’m pleased to see that she’s receiving medical attention there. Two paramedics are attending to her. I stand outside, looking into to the brightly lit space. The girl still has her head down, which makes me worry even more, it seems as though she’s not responded at all. “May I come to the hospital with her?” I ask, not bothered which one of them answers me.

“Do you know her?” I’m asked by the female paramedic.

“I found her,” I tell them. “That’s my jacket,” I say, pointing to the black jacket that’s been removed from around her shoulders, it’s been replaced by a warm woolly blanket. My jacket is now lying on the stretcher beside the girl.

“You’d best get in here then,” the lady paramedic gestures for me to enter the ambulance.

***

In the hospital, I am told to wait in the waiting room and that someone will be with me soon. When I enter the small room, I notice a coffee machine. I’m pretty sure that it will taste disgusting, but I just need something to warm me up. I have my jacket back on, but I can still feel winter seeping into my bones. Just as I predicted, the coffee tastes like last weeks wash up water, but I’m thankful for something warming me up. People come and go, they sit and wait, then they leave. More people arrive, then they leave. I’m starting to get impatient, I just want to know how that girl is doing. I feel the dread in the pit of my stomach. I recall her looking so frail and lifeless; it sends a chill through my body.

I think about Celine; she’s probably not given me or the girl a second thought and if I know her as well as I think I do, she’s probably up to her eyeballs in bubbles and eating her way through the room service menu.

A couple of hours later, a doctor dressed in a white coat over green scrubs enters the room. The look on his face tells me all I need to know.

***

Christmas Day is quiet, very quiet. I enjoy a meal for two, but I’m enjoying the company of Martin instead of my wife. She’s called a few times, apologising, but I know my wife. She’s not really sorry for behaving like a snob that cost the life of a young girl, the young girl I once knew, she’s sorry because she’s having to spend Christmas alone in a hotel room. At least I have Martin’s company.

I later found out that the girl we found on the city streets was Michaela Adams. I knew her once upon a time, back in school and she was my very first crush. We weren’t close, in fact, we hardly knew each other. I just fancied her from a distance, she didn’t even know who I was back then. She had no clue that I existed. After school, I lost touch with most people, I especially had no clue what happened to Michaela. Even after her death, we don’t know how or why she ended up on the streets. It’s a complete mystery.

I have an idea, so I run through my plans with Martin. His eyes light up when I explain what I have in mind. “What do you think?” I ask him. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea Mr. Lawson,” he smiles at me. At first I think he’s just agreeing with me, because I’m his boss, but then I realise he’s really thrilled with my plans.

Although it’s Christmas Day and I won’t be able to put many plans into action, I can at least write some notes, calculate some costings and make a few phone calls.

Today is the day Michaela Adams death will not have been in vain.

***

Six months later

“Do we have a date for the Manchester site yet?” I ask Stuart, my head of resources.

“Yes, sir. Fourth of September,” he says with a wide smile.

“Good, let’s go ahead.” I say with happiness. “I have an appointment with Mary at the London site now,” I say throwing on my jacket and walking towards the lifts. “Keep me updated with progress.”

“Of course, sir.” I notice his wide smile one last time as the lift doors close. It gives me a warm flurry of satisfaction.

When I pull up outside the London site, I’m greeted by a very happy looking Mary. “How are we doing today?” I ask her.

“We have three spare beds, but everyone has been fed, watered and given clean clothes,” she says happily.

“Great job,” I reply, then follow her inside. When we reach the kitchen I stop for a moment. “And how is she getting on?” I ask.

“She’s working really hard,” Mary says with a mischievous look in her eye.

I walk towards the familiar figure standing at the kitchen sink, she’s washing up with her own hands. “Hello,” I say in her ear, making her jump.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she says, spinning round and slapping my chest with a hard slap.

“Hello Celine,” I say, then kiss her cheek.

For the last six months, the plans I made with Martin are now in full effect. We’ve opened a homeless shelter. We have twenty beds, a huge dining room and a laundry room. This is a place where vulnerable people can come and stay, it’s somewhere safe and warm where they can have a decent meal and a place to sleep. The London site is the first, the Manchester site will be next to open in September and I plan on opening more in every major city in the UK over the next ten years. It’s slow, it’s expensive, but it’s so worth it. I have hired CEO to take care of my media business and truth be told, he’s doing a better job than I ever did.

Celine has seen the error of her ways, and is even helping out. She cooks, she cleans and she prepares meals. We are working on getting our marriage back on track, but she’s aware that my first priority are the shelters. She has been remorseful in the way she treated Michaela, and we both know that if we’d checked on her sooner, she might still be alive today. Celine feels responsible for her death, but I’ve told her many times that we’re both to blame for passing her by when she needed help. We both turned the other cheek, when we could have helped in the first place. It’s a dreadful feeling, but we are at least trying to make up for the mistake we made.

I employ managers to oversee the day to day running of the shelter in London, with plans to hire more staff when we open the new shelters. We have so many volunteers I cannot count them all, they’re all extremely generous in giving up their time to help others. I am truly humbled.

With all that has happened over the last six months, I can honestly say that I am incredibly proud of not only myself, but the amazing people who give up their time and energy to help out on this project. I’m even proud of Celine.

The long term plans of this shelter are to not only provide warmth, food and clothing, but I also have careers advisors, benefits advisors and valuable information on how to get vulnerable people off the streets and into paid employment and their own homes.

We have only helped a few people so far, but that number is rising every day. We do as much as we can, we help as many people as we can, but sadly not everyone wants to be helped and sometimes we have to turn people away. That is the heartbreaking truth. We have applied to become a registered charity, but my money has kick started this worthwhile project. Everyone involved is hoping and keeping their fingers crossed that we will be known as ‘The Michaela Adams Foundation’. The dedication to Michaela sits proudly on the wall, a small plaque with a brass front plate reminds me and all the staff why we do this. It reminds us all that if we can at least save one life, then we’ve done some good in the world. It reminds us that even though there are atrocities every day, here and abroad that we can make a difference to a stranger’s life.

But our intentions are clear; we are at least trying to make that difference.

We’re trying to ‘Make It Count’.

The End

Facebook ~ https://goo.gl/jIuFLE

Goodreads ~ https://goo.gl/wejYGH

Google+ ~ https://goo.gl/1GeIC0

Pinterest ~ https://goo.gl/pJ9MdW

Tumblr ~ https://goo.gl/37DVME

Twitter ~ https://twitter.com/janeyh35

Amazon author central ~ http://goo.gl/8RpOV6

My website ~ http://janeheron1.wix.com/jaheronauthor

Wattpad ~ https://www.wattpad.com/user/JaneSunshineHeron

Links to my books

Belleza

UK ~ http://goo.gl/1dGW0s

USA ~ http://goo.gl/w3vGJd

AUS ~ http://goo.gl/LlMcKC

iBooks ~ https://goo.gl/VqCbbN

B&N ~ http://goo.gl/Z2CALY

Kobo ~ https://goo.gl/sLnwsn

Goodreads ~ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22914337-belleza

Alias

UK ~ http://goo.gl/5C1dQa

USA ~ http://goo.gl/9b0DEC

AUS ~ http://goo.gl/dHT9Xf

iBooks ~ https://goo.gl/HEJQTE

B&N ~ http://goo.gl/WUzsvZ

Kobo ~ https://goo.gl/9fGQQQ

Goodreads ~ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22544849-alias

30 Days

Amazon UK ~ http://goo.gl/Cr8uWG

Amazon USA ~ http://goo.gl/jz9YYj

iBooks ~ https://goo.gl/i49UmL

B&N ~ http://goo.gl/Qyq4Ab

Goodreads ~ https://goo.gl/BvcbHX

GirlsQuad (release date 30th November)

Amazon UK ~ http://goo.gl/XjtmhE

Amazon USA ~ http://goo.gl/u3zIfr

B&N ~ http://goo.gl/Yk1B2I

iBooks ~ https://goo.gl/g8p2Pi

Add to your Goodreads TBR ~ goo.gl/hxFEIU

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 03, 2015 01:58

December 2, 2015

Nicholas, Baby by CR Lemons #CinnamonTreats

Find more from CR by clicking on these links…

Website –

http://www.crlemons.com

Newsletter –

http://tinyletter.com/CRLemonsAuthor

Facebook –

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006219855480

Facebook Page –

https://www.facebook.com/pages/C-R-Lemons/1499628743602249?fref=ts

Facebook Street Team –

https://www.facebook.com/groups/414782572055483/

Twitter –

https://twitter.com/CRLemonsAuthor

Amazon Author Page –

http://www.amazon.com/C.-R.-Lemons/e/B00KTFPI12/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Goodreads –

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8301290.C_R_Lemons

Pinterest –

http://www.pinterest.com/cr0191/

Bookgorilla –

http://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B00KTFPI12/c-r-lemons

Linkedin –

www.linkedin.com/in/crlemon

Buy links for books…

Getting Him Off Quickly (Getting Him Off Series, Book 1)

Amazon.com ebook – http://amzn.to/1kbmH1r

Amazon.com paperback – http://amzn.to/1izorke

Amazon.co.uk – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Getting-Him-Off-Quickly-Book-ebook/dp/B00KSUA7WS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448030742&sr=8-1&keywords=getting+him+off+quickly

Amazon.fr – http://www.amazon.fr/Getting-Him-Quickly-Book-English-ebook/dp/B00KSUA7WS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448031091&sr=8-1&keywords=getting+him+off+quickly

Amazon.ca – http://www.amazon.ca/Getting-Him-Off-Quickly-Book-ebook/dp/B00KSUA7WS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448036317&sr=8-1&keywords=Getting+Him+Off+Quickly

Getting Him Off Secretly (Getting Him Off Series, Book 2)

Amazon.com ebook – http://amzn.to/1Io3cNy

Amazon.com paperback – http://amzn.to/1E0evt0

Amazon.co.uk – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Getting-Him-Off-Secretly-Book-ebook/dp/B00VR66Z5K/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1448036832&sr=8-1

Amazon.fr – http://www.amazon.fr/Getting-Him-Secretly-Book-English-ebook/dp/B00VR66Z5K/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1448039103&sr=8-1

Amazon.ca – http://www.amazon.ca/Getting-Him-Off-Secretly-Lemons/dp/0692422579/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448039485&sr=8-1&keywords=Getting+Him+Off+secretly

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 02, 2015 01:58

December 1, 2015

A Taste Of Christmas by Raven Anxo #CinnamonTreats

A Taste of Christmas

Raven Anxo

~*~

ONE

Remnants of a light fall of snow brushed from his coat, Patrick looked around. So this was Midar City. As he made his way along the sidewalk, prerecorded Christmas carols oozed from shops, making him cringe. The sweet tones reminded him too much of Heaven; a place which had stripped him of his wings, powers, and angelic status. Not content with that the powers that be tossed him to the North Pole to live with Santa Claus. That male’s continuous happy mood made Patrick want to hurl at times. Well either that or go and bury himself in the snow to escape all the “joy.”

Coat collar pulled up against the cold he continued walking, dodging people as he went. Every damn December it was the same thing; visit a city and look for “her,” then go back empty handed. Two hundred years he’d been looking for the one female who could restore to him what was taken. Each one which passed without finding her made him a little more cynical. He didn’t want to go back to the North Pole this year because he knew there was no way he could take another eleven months of Claus and his fucking demented bunch of happy, happy, joy, joy elves. Even a disgraced angel could only take so much happiness before he wanted to rip his wings off – that was if he still had them.

Letting out a breath he recalled what had placed him in his current situation. Breaking one too many of heaven’s rules had led to him having something taken away. What it was he couldn’t recall, all he did know was that action caused him to snap and try to storm the inner sanctum where the creator resided, in an attempt to get back whatever it was he’d lost. Stopped by his superiors he was held while they spoke with the head honcho. They jointly decided after ripping everything away from him that time with St. Nick would most probably be of benefit. When he’d arrived at the North Pole, the only information he was given was that he needed to find a specific female, but he could only search for her one month a year; December. Just thirty one days to find a proverbial needle in a haystack.

“I really despise this time of the year,” he muttered, earning some strange looks from a couple out shopping who walked past him. Eyes rolled, he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and turned the corner…

~*~

“Merry Christmas,” Clare called as she left the store. With the last of her shopping completed she headed down the sidewalk. Packages shifted to balance them better, she focused on the feet of the people milling around her in hopes she could avoid hitting anyone. A forlorn hope as she collided with something hard; sending her crashing to the ground and scattering her shopping all over the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” she heard a male voice curse. Like she went out of her way to collide with strangers. Normally even tempered, there was something in the male’s tone which sparked a flame of annoyance to life.

“Are you going to be a gentleman and help me up?” she huffed.

“Care to tell me why I should? You was the ditzy female not looking where the hell you were going.”

He had to be joking? If he had been paying attention then he would have seen her, so the collision wasn’t all her fault. Though from her current angle she had to admit he was rather on the yummy side. “If you had been paying attention as well, you would have seen me coming. So you are as much to blame as I am.”

“I really hate Christmas,” Clare heard him mumble as he grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.

Not prepared for the force of the pull she found herself suddenly against his hard body. Head tilted up so she could look at his face, she fought back a gasp as she found a pair of slate grey eyes fixed on her. All coherent thought vanished as she melted against him.

“When you’ve finished staring at me I’d like to be on my way.”

Whatever spell she had fallen under broke at his words. For some strange reason though she didn’t want him to leave, at least not yet. Taking a step back she pointed to all her scattered purchases. “If you can help me retrieve my shopping I’ll treat you to a coffee.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I refuse to let something as silly as a collision ruin my holiday spirit. So what do you say?”

“I’ll take the coffee because I happen to like it, not because of this annoying season.”

“At least you are taking it. So what’s your name?” she asked as they started to gather her bags and packages up.

“Patrick,” came his reply. “What’s yours?”

“Clare,” she answered as he picked up the last package, placing it on her pile. “Okay follow me, there is a place around the corner which serves the best expresso known to man.”

Shopping juggled so this time she could see ahead, she moved off fully aware of the hunk of male following close behind her.

Two

~*~

Following on behind Clare, Patrick found himself with a problem. When they’d collided a connection had formed. With no damn clue as to the reason why, he started rooting around in his memories for an answer, coming up with ziltch.

“This is the place,” he heard her say, pulling him from his thoughts. “Could you open the door for me?”

Urge resisted to suggest she use one of her free fingers to do it, he grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. Step taken to the side he eyed her warily. “You go first. That way there’s no chance of another collision.”

“Thanks, I think. Looks like there is a corner table free. Please go and grab it before anyone else does. Once I can put this lot down I’ll get the coffees.”

Open a door, grab a table. He should be out looking for “her,” not playing servant to a strange female. Yet he found it hard to refuse her request. Looking in the direction she’d nodded he spotted the table, his long stride getting him to it fast, ensuring no one else grabbed it. He looked back to see her heading in his direction, attempting not to brain anyone with her shopping as she did. Taking a few of her packages as she reached the table he placed them on one side before parking his ass on a chair.

“What would you like?”

Well there was a question he could answer in two different ways. Where the hell had that come from? Head given a slight shake, he gave what he hoped passed for a smile. “I’ll have a large cappuccino with a cinnamon roll on the side.”

“I think I only offered a coffee.”

“Given what happened earlier, I think I’m entitled to two treats.”

“Coffee. That’s all I can afford after my shopping splurge.”

“Fine.” Coat pocket rummaged in, he pulled out a few coins. “Here, this should cover the cost of the roll.”

“Thanks,” she nodded before putting the rest of her shopping down and taking the money.

~*~

It took her a few moments to pull her attention away from Patrick, her eyes fixed on his face as if trying to place him. Somehow managing to break free she headed towards the counter. While she waited for her order to be filled, her attention drifted back to the table. For a moment her thoughts blindsided her as fragments of images danced through her mind; a couple embracing, wings of white, and snow. They made no sense and she had no clue where her mind had pulled them from. Yet for some reason they felt familiar.

“Excuse me miss?”

Pulled back from her strange journey into wonderland, Clare gave the assistant an apologetic look before paying for her items. Tray picked up she made her way back to the table. “One large cappuccino and cinnamon roll.”

“Thanks. Have to admit it does smell good.” Patrick replied before taking a sip of his coffee. “Color me curious, but what had you so spacy over there?”

“Spacy? Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“Sweetheart the look on your face showed you checked out for a while. You didn’t bash your head on the sidewalk when you fell, did you?”

The slim note of concern running through his question surprised her, considering the start they had gotten off to. “No I didn’t. It’s just been a long and slightly confusing day.”

“Trust me, I have those days all the damn time.”

Hands wrapped around her cup Clare looked at the dark liquid, her mind once more drifting off, which most probably explained her next question. “Are you single?”

“What did you just ask?”

She didn’t need a mirror to know her cheeks were turning red. Hell she could feel the damn heat radiating from them. “I’m sorry. I think my brain to mouth filter has gone on vacation. Please ignore me while I try to drown in my coffee.”

“Strange as it may seem I think red suits you, and that’s hard for me to say given the fact I hate that color.”

“Why? I mean considering it is one of the main colors of Christmas, you really can’t avoid it.”

“Exactly. It reminds me of a certain bloody annoying red suited male.”

“Santa Claus?”

“That’s the pain,” came a grumbled reply.

“If you dislike him that much then you really need to avoid malls, sidewalks, actually pretty much everywhere.”

“I’m not talking about those copycats,” Patrick snorted. “I’m referring to the original.”

“Ummm why are you speaking of him in a way that implies you actually know him?”

Mental slap to the head given he stared into his half empty cup. What the hell was going on with him? He’d never let himself get carried away like that before. Yet for some reason he found he couldn’t stop himself.

“Who says I don’t?”

“You do realize that’s not normal? Santa Claus is the spirit of Christmas. The joy and laughter if you will.”

“Oh he’s more than a spirit, he’s as solid as you and I. So be careful what you class as being not normal, because your definition and mine are going to vary wildly.”

He was right, yet something still nagged at her. They were strangers who had crashed into one another. Any sane person would have picked themselves up, offered a few suggestions about watching where they were walking, and continued on. Yet here she was drinking coffee with the male and asking personal questions. Maybe she had hit her head and not realized it. No, it was more than that. There was a need to know about him and his life, almost as if she was meeting someone who meant a great deal to her but hadn’t seen in ages. It was enough to unnerve her slightly. Chair pushed back she started pulling her shopping together. “Seeing as I’ve finished my coffee I’ll head off. It’s been interesting, and I’m sorry for my filter being off earlier. As much as you don’t like this time of year I do wish you a merry Christmas.”

Three

~*~

Before he realized what he was doing, Patrick reached a hand out to take hold of hers. “I apologize. This time of year always pisses me off, a situation which I think is highly unlikely to change anytime soon.”

“Tell me then why this season is such a turn off for you?”

“Let me put it this way. Every year I search for someone who I’m pretty damn sure I will never find. Therefore my loathing for this season increases every time it arrives.”

“Who are you searching for?” she asked, retaking her seat.

Another question. Hell, her curiosity was almost as bad as his. He was tempted to tell her, to see what kind of a loon she thought him to be.

“So? You going to answer me or not?”

Patience almost at an end he lent forward slightly, his hands resting on the table. “You want to know? Well here goes; I was an angel. Before you ask, yes we exist and more of us walk among you than you know. For two hundred years I’ve been stuck living with St. Nick and his damn elves. Every December I’m sent to a city to find the one who can free me. As I’m sure you’ve gathered by both my presence here and my pissy attitude I’ve not succeeded yet. Happy now?”

For a few moments the only sounds heard were the voices of other customers and carols filtering in every time the door opened.

“You really are nuts, aren’t you?”

“You wanted to know, now you do. To be honest I couldn’t give a fuck if you believe me or not. Hope your curiosity is satisfied now.”

When the last word left his lips, Patrick felt a pain shoot across his shoulder blades. He’d become used to the phantom feel of his wings, it was a reminder of what he’d lost. This pain though was somehow different. It almost felt like his wings were back and straining to break free of their confines. There was something strange going on, and he began to realize the female sitting opposite him with a look on her face of disbelief sat at the center of it.

“Got nothing else to say or ask?” he grunted.

“I have, but I figure you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“You can’t say anything I’ve not heard before, so get it off your chest while my mood is still even.”

~*~

Clare wasn’t a saint, she didn’t have endless patience. What of it she did have this male was rapidly exhausting. Deep breath taken in, she placed a smile on her face so as not to push the crazy any further. “Really, I have nothing to say.”

“Sweetheart, you and I know that’s a lie.”

“You actually know Santa Claus?” Yep, that left her mouth before her brain had time to process the stupid factor, which currently rested on nine out of ten. “Ignore that.”

“Nope I’m not going to ignore it, and yes I know the pain in my ass. He may be happy and all ‘ho ho ho’ to all of you, but from January to November he is a royal irritant. No wonder hot chocolate consumption at the North Pole hits an all-time high during those months. The elves need it to cope with his mood swings. There are no plus points for me; I have to deal with demented elves, a hyped up man in a red suit, and searching for a female I’m damn sure I’m never going to find. So you can take this time of year and with the best will in the world, shove it.”

“You know what? You may think you hate it, but I’m going to change that.”

“Are you deaf? Haven’t you listened to a single fucking word I’ve said?”

“I have, but I’m a female and can be stubborn. One way or another I’m going to get you into this season. You are my Christmas challenge. So let’s get out of here, we have a few places to hit.”

“I’m drinking my coffee then I’m off. I’m going nowhere with you.”

“Scared are you?”

“Don’t issue a challenge you can’t win.”

“Well I don’t see you accepting it, so that means I win by default.”

Clare fought back the urge to grin as she watched a tick start up in his jaw. “So?”

“You want to lose then go for it. Give it your best shot, which trust me won’t work.”

“We will see, won’t we?” Standing she gathered up her shopping. “I need to drop this stuff off first then I’m taking you to a place I love.”

“Lucky me.”

This was going to be fun, and she was determined to get him a least a little more festive.

Four

~*~

Every Friday to Sunday in December Midar City held a street fair. There were amusements, stalls, and entertainers, all with one goal in mind – to spread the Christmas spirit. It would be the perfect place to take Mr. Grumpy and get him into a more festive mood.

Apartment building reached, she looked at him over the top of her packages. “You wait here while I take these in. I expect to find you waiting when I come down. Unless of course you get scared, knowing you are going to lose the challenge.”

Eyebrow raised as he looked at her, Patrick snorted. “I’ll be here because I want to see you crash when you fail.”

After getting into the building, she quickly deposited her goods in her apartment and raided her Christmas savings tin for more cash, before heading back to where her grumpy friend waited. “Right, let’s get you festive.”

“You really do like pursing a lost cause, don’t you?”

Shaking her head she refused to let him get her down. Christmas was her time of year and no way was he going to ruin it for her. Grabbing his hand she pulled him down the sidewalk. “Let’s get moving.”

Ten minutes and two streets later found them both at the fair. “Now you can’t tell me this doesn’t affect you.”

Resisting the urge to cover his ears at the sound of Christmas carols, Patrick gave her a quizzical look. “You sure you really want me to answer that?”

“Oh come on! At least try to show a little enthusiasm.”

“Enthusiasm, sure,” he said, rolling his eyes as she dragged him deeper into his nightmare.

It took Clare a while to realize she hadn’t let go of his hand. The rational part of her reasoned it was to stop him from running, but the irrational part whispered it was because she liked the feel of his hand in hers. Whatever the reason she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to slip away. He was going to enjoy the fair and get into Christmas if it killed her – which hopefully it wouldn’t.

~*~

Patrick hadn’t failed to notice how tightly she gripped his hand. It would take but a small amount of effort to break the hold, yet he found he didn’t want to. There was something about her touch which pierced to the very center of him. A disconcerting thought. As the thought faded another jolt of pain shot across his shoulders, causing him to hiss. Flexing them in an effort to ease the ache, there was a brief moment when again he felt his wings fighting to break free as if they were physically there. He really was losing the plot as they were long gone and not returning.

“Look! Christmas cookies! You have to try them, they have the best taste.”

Claire’s voice yanked him back to the here and now. He’d had enough and really wanted out. “Look, I -.” He never got a chance to finish his sentence as he found himself dragged over to a stall. The smell of cinnamon and mixed spice wrapped round him, and he actually found himself wanting to try them.

“Here you go,” he heard her say as she released her hold on him long enough to offer up a large tree shaped cookie. Eying it curiously he took a tentative bite, the taste exploding on his tongue. Before he realized it he had eaten the whole damn thing.

“Want another?” Clare asked.

“Sure.”

“See, I told you that you would like Christmas.”

“One cookie isn’t going to change my mind or opinion.”

“Guess I’ll have to try something else,” she replied, giving him another this time shaped like a snowman.

The moment she started to walk away he reached for her hand. The move instinctive and it scared the shit out of him.

Time passed and night settled over the fair, the lights decorating the stalls and rides shining in the dark. More and more people had arrived, their happy chatter filling the air along with the continuing music.

“I wish it would snow.”

“I could have made it if I still held all my powers.”

“You still sticking with your ‘I was an angel’ story? I don’t believe in such things.”

“Yet you are willing to believe a male drops down chimneys once a damn year. Nice, real nice.”

“I mean no offence, but you are asking me to accept something which I can’t.”

“Can’t…or won’t? There’s a big difference, you know.”

“They are the same to me.”

“You believe that and you are lying to yourself.”

“Okay, convince me then.”

He heard the note of sarcasm running through her words, and it hurt. For the first time since being forced to stay with Claus he wished he still held his powers to grant what she wanted. Yes she had been a bloody pain in his ass with her determination to get him into a season he hated, but she hadn’t given up trying no matter how unhelpful he’d been. For that alone she deserved to have her small wish fulfilled.

Again the pain flared, but now it was joined by something else. Hold on her hand dropped he looked down at his. Something was going on with them, a familiar feeling flooded through his palms and fingers. Could it possibly be? Hands placed together in an attitude of prayer as he turned his back on her, he asked for snow to fall. Nothing happened. Why should it? His powers would never return to him, he needed to resign himself to that fact. Just as he turned around, he felt something cold hit the tip of his nose. Finger touching the spot he felt a tiny patch of wet. Head tilted back he looked towards the night sky to see what had caused it, and what he saw took his breath away. Beautiful flakes of snow started to descend, slow at first but quickly increasing.

Gaze shifted back down he caught sight of the childlike wonder in Claire’s eyes as she tried to catch the unique flakes. Dare he push his luck a little further? Hands now clasped together he whispered a request then carefully opened them, catching sight of a perfect snowflake resting there. One hand shifted so he could take hold of it, he handed it over. “A gift for you.”

“How did you do that?” she asked, staring at the delicate snowflake she now held.

Eyebrow raised he smiled. “A power I’d thought long gone let me create that and the snow falling.”

“If I believe you, which I’m still not sure I do, then I would have to believe what else you’ve told me.”

“That you would,” he grinned.

“I need a drink, and a strong one at that,” she muttered. “There’s a stall which sells them not far from here.”

As she headed off his long stride enabled him to keep up with her easily as she made her way towards the far end of the fair. While she ordered herself whatever she needed he watched her, a smile on his face. One which began to fade as a thought travelled to the front of his mind, bringing with it a realization. Could she be the one he had searched over two hundred years for? Was she the one who could set him free from his torment, restore to him everything which he had lost?

If she was then it would explain the return of some of his powers, the feeling he kept getting of the return of his wings, and the way her general presence lifted his mood. How the hell could he prove it one hundred percent though? And if he did how would he get her to not only accept it but leave with him? Seemed like one problem was intent on blossoming into many.

“Is there somewhere we can talk that isn’t so noisy and crowded?”

“Why do you want to get away from here?” she asked.

He could hear the suspicion in her voice and it took all of his control not to snarl at the unspoken insinuation he wanted her alone for a less than good reason.

“I’m not going to do anything to you if that’s what you are so damn worried about. I just need to talk to you and this place is too bloody distracting. We don’t have to go far, just need enough distance to mute the racket a little.”

“How about over there,” Clare suggested, pointing to a small area where benches were located around a rather shabby looking statue.

“Works for me, come on.”

The few remaining stalls weaved through they made it over to the benches. Snow covered them and he brushed it off so she could sit. Flakes of white still fell from the sky as he paced back and forth in front of her.

“So? What did you want to talk about?”

Hands placed behind his back as he stopped in front of her, Patrick let out a low breath. Sugar coating the situation wasn’t his style, which left only one option open to him: be blunt and direct.

“Remember I told you I was looking for a female to free me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty certain you are her.”

Before he could react she was up and running. She may be wearing heels but that sure as hell wasn’t stopping her from taking off like a sprinter. Caught wrong footed it took him a few moments to gather his wits before chasing after her.

Bit by bit he closed the gap between them until he could call to her. “If you stop running I think there is a way we can prove or disprove my theory.”

Speed not dropping meant she either hadn’t heard him, or had and was ignoring him. Tired, cranky, and heading into pissed off territory he put on a burst of speed and got in front of her. “For fucks sake will you stop and listen!”

“Why?” she demanded, coming to a halt. “So you can spin some more damn yarns and tales? Thanks but no thanks.”

“Aren’t you curious as to why you felt you needed to get me, a stranger, into the Christmas spirit?”

Five

~*~

Truth be told she was curious, but she didn’t want him to know that. Arms crossed over her chest she glared at the hunk of male standing in front of her. “Go on then, prove it if you can.”

“Only one female can restore to me what was taken; my powers and my wings. My powers are starting to return. Now if you can restore my wings not only will it prove you are the one I’ve been searching for, but it will unlock a part of you which you never knew existed. So are you scared to see what happens?”

Clare bristled, she wasn’t scared – was she? “What do I have to do to end this charade?”

“Take my hands into yours and see me with wings.”

Starting to feel like an idiot she nevertheless did as he asked. Eyes locked with his she pictured soft white wings. Nothing happened. About to let go and walk off her eyes widened as she caught sight of a shape forming behind him. Little by little it solidified until two wings of perfect white came into view.

“You are her,” she heard him whisper.

In that single moment something shattered inside, almost as if a wall fell. Buried memories from a long distant past tumbled free attacking her as she tried to make sense of them. Slowly they began to settle into order. Letting go of his hands, she raised one of hers to rest it against his cheek. “Patrick,” she murmured. “Why?”

“Just another level of punishment they decided to put in place. I had to search for you and prove my worth before our memories were restored. I have missed you my love.”

“I didn’t realize what I was missing, now I see why I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong here. You are my home.”

“Understand if you leave here with me, all traces of your existence will be removed. It will be as if you had never walked within this realm. The choice is yours.”

With her memories restored the choice was easy. Hand moved, she stepped closer to her angel, wrapping her arms around his waist before tilting her head up to look at him. “My choice is simple and made. Where you go I go.”

Lips meeting in a passion filled kiss, she caught sight of the love he held for her in his eyes as it ended. “Let’s go and annoy a certain man in red,” he smiled.

Tightening her hold on him Clare rested her cheek against his chest as they faded from view, the swirling snow the only indication anyone had been there.

~Fin~

Social Media Links For

Raven Anxo

FaceBook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/Raven.Anxo.Page/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RavenAnxo29

Google+: https://www.google.com/+RavenanxoAuthor

Website: http://www.ravenanxo.com/

~ *~*~*~*~

Book Links For

Raven Anxo

A Sip Too Many (Book One in the Vampires of Rose City Series)

Amazon.com: http://tinyurl.com/qxb38eb

Amazon.co.uk: http://tinyurl.com/ntnzmk2

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/580612

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/a-sip-too-many

Nook: http://tinyurl.com/nsuma9f

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on December 01, 2015 01:58

November 24, 2015

Hello

Hey everyone!

Just popping by with a couple of bits of news.

Firstly can you believe it’s nearly a year since I pressed publish on Aphrodite’s Fire? This weekend sees the anniversary of its release and to celebrate I will be lowering the price of the kindle addition to just…

Now for the second bit of news…

The Cinnamon Treats Multi Author Advent begins next week!

I have already received some truly fabulous stories and poems which I can’t wait to begin sharing with you all. The only thing I ask from you all is that you all support the wonderful authors that have dropped everything to produce work for this advent. I don’t like to beg (haha who am I kidding, we all know I love it) but please if you enjoy a piece of work from any (or all) of the Advent authors can you like, comment, and click on the links I have attached to the bottom of each piece has the whole aim of this Advent is to hopefully introduce you to new authors and poets.

This years contributions range in genres so I am hoping there will be something for everyone in this years event, yes there will be the filth that you all know I love to share but there will also be works that are romantic, thought provoking and even terrifying because after all what’s Christmas without a good scary story?

So that’s it, that’s my news for now.

Until Tuesday, take care of yourselves and if you can’t be good make sure you have a damn good time being bad.

Much love,

S.J xxx

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on November 24, 2015 04:02

November 4, 2015

Leeds Author Signing Spotlight Interviews: SJ Warner

sjw2014:

My interview with the fabulous Grace Harper. She has been a sweetheart using her time to interview all the fabulous authors that will be attending Leeds, March 5th 2016, so if you would like to get to know the authors between then I recommend visiting Grace’s blog.

Originally posted on Grace Harper:

SJ Warner lives in the north of England with her husband and three children. An avid reader from an early age she knew she always wanted to write but life got in the way and she put all thoughts of writing to one side until one day in 2012 she was challenged to write a short story. That story led her on a journey into poetry, more short stories and finally to producing three collections of her poetry Poetica, From the Heart and Lust and Lace plus her first full-length novel Aphrodite’s Fire. SJ also has two dogs and a rabbit so her home life is, just like every other parent’s, a bit hectic but an awful lot of fun. Life mainly consists of trying to remember who is doing what, when, where and what outfits need to be ironed, but she wouldn’t change a thing as they keep her on her…

View original 854 more words

View more on S.J. Warner's website »

1 like · Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on November 04, 2015 01:18

October 27, 2015

“I put a spell on you”…

sjw2014:

It was a pleasure to appear on my friend J’s blog as guest poet. If you haven’t seen J’s work then I highly recommend giving his work a read and his blog a like, I promise you will not be disappointed

Originally posted on Eye Will Not Cry:

Guest Poet Week – Number 2

To celebrate this blogs 2nd anniversary, I am honouring other people’s work with a week of Guest Poets.

The Guest Poet feature on this blog has been tremendously successful and I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every poet who has taken the time to partake.

My second Guest Poet this week is our sexy friend Sal!

You can read more of Sal’s work here – but beware, it’s hot stuff!

https://sjw2014.wordpress.com/

Going forward, the Guest Poet slots will still be available, so if you want to join in, please email your words to me at eyewillnotcry@hotmail.co.uk

Cheers