Christmas Secrets

When I was a kid, I was a firm believer in Santa Claus. The old gent was always very good to me and my sisters so I had no reason to be dubious. That's why, when a classmate tried to tell me he wasn't real, we almost came to blows.

But the seed of doubt had been planted, so I decided to find out for myself.

We always spent Christmas Eve at my grandmother's home. She had a wonderful old house with an oak banister she wrapped with pine boughs and a tree big enough to fill half of the living room. A wreath with a candle in the center lit every window. The only flaw in the place was that there was no fireplace, but my grandmother solved that problem by putting up a cardboard one for us to hang our stocking on.

How Santa Claus managed to enter the house through that cardboard fireplace was one of the great mysteries of my childhood. I'd always taken it on faith . . . until that Christmas.

That night, I waited, lying beside my sleeping sister, until the adults went to bed and the house grew quiet. Then, I heard a rustling in the living room below. I slipped out from under the covers and padded to the head of the stairs. Peering through the greenery, I discovered my grandmother below.

She was filling each of the stockings--a fragrant orange in the toe, nuts and hard candy on top of that, and a small toy in each. Before she could catch me out of bed, I tiptoed back.

Well, as it turned out, my classmate was right. There was no Santa Claus. But I learned I had something even better--I had a grandma who loved me.

When did you learn the truth about SC? Do you still believe? ;-) 

A Cover is Worth a Thousand Words!

I'm so excited!

My editor sent me a jpeg of the cover for THE COLDWATER WARM HEARTS CLUB. I couldn't be more thrilled. (Neither could she! She confessed that she had framed the cover and it's on her desk!) Here it is:

The art department at Kensington has outdone themselves. They perfectly captured the feeling of Coldwater Cove, my favorite imaginary hometown. It's a wonderful little place nestled by green hills and bordered on the east by Lake Jewel, whose bracing, spring fed depths gives the town its name. There's a charming Victorian courthouse in the middle of the Town Square. Folks take pride in their homes and lawns and flags fly each Fourth of July. 

As far as the people who live there goes, Coldwater Cove is a cross between Mayberry and Lake Woebegone. My heroine's father fights a never ending battle with the squirrels in his yard. Even though most folks have internet access, the nosy, but well-meaning, Methodist Prayer Chain is still the best means of spreading information. And you never know when the raucous Bugtussle clan will rattle into town in their decades old truck. 

The book won't be out until April 2016, but I've posted the first chapter for you already. Click here to follow Lacy Evans as she learns what it means to go home again...

Enjoy!

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How about you? Have you ever moved back to a place you've lived before? (I've done that twice!) Or have you pretty much stayed put?