As we continue our Countdown to Christmas, I am happy to welcome author Debra St. John to my blog!
It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas
At my house the trees (three big ones and a small one) are all decked out. The lights are on the bushes. Candles glow. Christmas carols play in the background. Cookies are looking way too tempting on red and green trays. And I even have some (but not enough at this point) of my shopping done. Everything looks beautiful and festive.
Trouble is, I find with the hustle and bustle of this time of year, there simply isn’t enough time to just sit back and enjoy it all. In addition to the usual rounds of everyday life, now there are Advent services, and Housewalks, and open houses, and parties, and Christmas cards to write and send, and more presents to buy and wrap.
We do so much to get ready for Christmas that the beauty and peace of the season often pass us by and get lost in the rush to get things done. We tend to lose sight of the true meaning of the season: peace, hope, and the Light of the world come to Earth.
The other night, after the second long day in an even longer weekend, I made myself sit. I had a million things to do, but I took a half hour to do nothing. I sat in front of the lighted Christmas tree, put some Smokey Mountain Christmas music on, curled up beneath my Santa fleece blanket, and simply absorbed the beauty and the wonder and let the peace soak into my soul. It was absolutely marvelous.
In Christmas at The Corral, Maggie Pearson is busy, busy, busy. She’s preparing for a Christmas Eve appreciation dinner for several hundred guests at the local bar. With only two days to go, there’s still a lot to get done. She’s doing everything she can to make things festive for others, but isn’t taking enough time to stop and enjoy for herself.
When Van Rawlings pops unexpectedly into her life, things change. As a divorce lawyer, he’s a bit cynical about love and Christmas. But through each others’ eyes, they start to see the magic and the wonder of the season in a new way. To stop and take time to savor the peace and joy of a small town Christmas.
So this year, I encourage you to do the same. Whether you live in a small town or the big city or anywhere in between…Stop. Enjoy. Let the peace of the season wash over you and through you. Believe again.
Christmas at The Corral
Maggie Pearson has no time in her busy life for love, but an immediate attraction draws her to a mysterious stranger at The Corral, a local bar. However, any romantic feelings are ruthlessly squashed when he accuses her of having an affair with his brother.
As a divorce lawyer, Van Rawlings has seen the ugly side of marriage too many times to believe in love. But having gotten off on the wrong foot with Maggie, and genuinely contrite over his faux pas, he offers to help her with an upcoming Christmas charity dinner. The more time they spend together, the more he realizes he’s never met anyone like Maggie, who gives so generously of her time.
Can Maggie and the magic of the season help Van believe again? In Christmas and in love.
“I’ve never done this before.”
Maggie glanced over. “Driven a pickup?” He looked right at home behind the wheel, down to the straw cowboy hat perched on his head. “Don’t all Texas boys have to as a rite of passage or something?”
“Not the truck. I’ve never cut down a Christmas tree.” He shifted his gaze from the road and shot her a wicked smile. “And there are definitely lots of things boys in Texas need to do in their pickups as a rite of passage. Wanna try one or two?”
Once again her long-dormant libido made its presence known as she imagined the one or two things he had in mind. She tingled in places that hadn’t tingled in forever. The tempting offer was nearly enough to distract her from his Christmas tree comment, but not quite.
“How is that possible?”
“Well, I could pull over. You’d slide along the bench closer to me, and—”
“Not that.” Ay yi yi. He was killing her. Her face, along with the rest of her body, went up in flames.
He chuckled, low and sexy. Knowing.
“The Christmas tree thing.”
He shrugged. “We always had an artificial tree while I was growing up. In fact, my parents still have the same one. The thing must be thirty-some years old.”
“What kind of tree do you have in—where do you live?”
“Dallas, and I don’t have any kind of tree.”
“Why not, Mr. Scrooge?”
“Ha. Ha. I’m never home, and it’s just me there anyway. Why bother?”
“Because it’s Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year.”
Available from The Wild Rose Press
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