Winter Blogfest: Michael DeStefano

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble.

The Roadside Oasis

    The sign would have read “The Snowshoe” but for a burned-out bulb. Inside, a kindly woman greets a traveler. Her tag says Regina. Regina’s tone possesses all the tranquility a weary traveler could hope for. He sags as one might when submitting to another worthy of trust.

    “A bit road-weary?” Regina intones. The traveler suffers a lapse in deportment. The consequence is laughter, contrary to humor. “Begging your pardon; did I say something humorous?” Regina maintains her graciousness, though an arched brow betrays what she thought of the traveler’s laughter.

    “My apologies,” the traveler cries. “I passed road-weary days ago.

    Regina boasts, We’ve got a stew certain to revive anyone.

    “Sounds like a bowl of Heaven, the traveler croons.

    Regina’s smile reveals a bizarre irony that unsettles the traveler. Before Regina makes for the kitchen, she asks, as a passing curiosity, “What’s your destination?” The traveler replies, It’s indeterminate.”

    Destinations can be tricky,” Regina warns.

    Scanning the room, something strikes the traveler: The paradoxical look that came over Regina when he idiomatically called her dinner recommendation a bowl of Heaven was apparent on everyone’s face. Next, a man, abandoning a hand of solitaire, rises from his seat and marches toward the kitchen. As he approaches, he wavers, sighs, then disappears beyond the swinging doors.    

    “Who was that man?” the traveler asks Regina.

    “George. He’s been here for years. Had a friend with whom he played chess, but the friend moved on. Lately, George has resigned himself to solitaire.”

    “George is permitted in the kitchen?”

    “No one is unless summoned by the cook,” Regina explains.

    “I didn’t hear George’s name called.”

    Assuagingly, Regina warns the traveler, “You weren’t listening.”

    The farcicality of The Snowshoe as a waiting room where souls gather before being granted passage into Heaven unsettles the traveler, as does the existential catastrophe of his having failed to survive his journey.

    Familiarity lilts in chorus. Was death a shared experience? Some seem too reconciled for their demises to have been recent affairs; they view death as a humorous irony, an escape from a fraught world, while others regard the swinging doors with misgiving. The traveler dispels what he resolves are illusory thoughts and settles on The Snowshoe as a stopover for travelers in need of revival.

    Regina reappears with a bowl of stew. The traveler asks, “Why am I the only one eating?”

    Regina explains, “You’re the only one who requires sustenance.”

    Before the traveler’s twisted expression elicited an explanation, someone rose, tossed aside a newspaper for which they were grateful to no longer feign interest, and marched toward the kitchen.

    Was he summoned by the cook?”

     Regina nods.

    “Will the cook summon me?” the traveler warily peeps.

    What’s your name? Regina asks.

    Melcior, the traveler replies. “Ive searched for whatever sanguinity a forbidding world affords. I’m following a star.”

    “Two came before you,” said Regina. Caspar and Belthazaar. They, too, are following a star. You’ll meet in Bethlehem. There, you’ll kneel before He who was foretold. Make haste, Melcior, for the day of rejoicing is upon us.”

 

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As America pivots from embittered passions over her Vietnam initiative to Cold War anxiety, the stars align for three teens seeking independence, encountering the unimaginable.

Set in Philadelphia in the mid-1970s, American Odyssey chronicles the coming-of-age journey of Addison Caldwell, Cillian James, and Joey Brosco. In their quest for independence, the trio encounters the recently widowed Leila Bennett, a former prostitute turned farm owner. For Leila, a sultry summer blossoms into an odyssey of hope and healing; for the boys, work and awakening. Leila—a girl discarded and rescued—teaches the threesome that virtue does not lie in the struggle for independence or what one must sacrifice for its behalf, but in love that reinforces enduring friendship.

 

Michael DeStefano runs a hairstyling salon, where he has spent the past four decades beautifying the super of Philadelphia. His past titles include the historical family saga “The Gunslinger Companion,” the comedy/tragedy “Waiting for Grandfather,” and “The Bohemian.” You can find these novels and the short stories, “Eternity’s Corridor”, “A Requiem for Oliver Clinch,” and other writing at https://michaelscorner.blog

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Winter Blogfest: Jae El Foster

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an autographed print copy of “Winter’s Embrace” signed by Jae El Foster. 

It’s Not About Santa but About Believing in Something

Everyone knows the holidays are for family, friends, feasts, and festivities, and one Christmas tradition is Santa Claus. While Jolly Ole Saint Nick is a staple for the season, popping up in malls and stores, online, and with call-in numbers to hear his voice, sometimes as kids age, his magic begins to fade.

When I was nine, I was playing hide-and-seek at home with my siblings, and I was going to hide in my parents’ closet. When I opened the closet door, I found a ton of toys meant for boys my age. I didn’t want Mom and Dad to know I’d discovered their secret stash of holiday gifts, so I closed the closet and went about the game. A few days later, Christmas came, and Santa had filled the space beneath the tree with wrapped presents for my siblings and me. When I started opening my presents from Santa, I noticed something extraordinary. They were the same presents that were in my parents’ closet.

I didn’t say anything. I understood the secret of Santa then, but I didn’t want to ruin their fun – and I still wanted extra presents at Christmastime. So, for the next few Christmases, I continued to go along with the Santa tradition, feigning excitement when we’d visit him at the mall and acting as surprised as I could through each unwrapping of every gift during Christmas.

Then, when I turned fourteen, and I was the only kid left living at home, Santa paid his last visit to us. I knew it would be the end of the tradition. Santa brought me socks, underwear, and a new backpack. Those definitely were not Santa-type presents.

The following summer, I began to work at the restaurant my dad ran. I earned money and saved it, not really needing anything because my parents provided whatever I needed. The followingChristmas came around, and Mom dropped me off at the mall to do my Christmas shopping. While there, I took the annual photo with Santa Claus, and then I shopped. I didn’t shop for gifts for myself, though. I had fallen in love with the tradition of Santa over the years, and so I shopped for presents from Santa for my parents and for myself.

I wrapped them in secret using different wrapping paper than we had at home, and on Christmas Eve, when my parents were asleep, I slipped the presents under the tree. The next morning, my parents were in shock, and I pretended to be too. They asked if I knew who brought the presents, and I told them Santa, acting ignorant. They let it go, but I didn’t let go of the tradition. Every year following, Santa left gifts under my parents’ tree, even after I had moved out of the house and gone off to live my life.

Even though my parents are no longer with us, Santa still comes, and he still leaves presents under the tree for my husband and me – a tradition I started at fifteen and have carried on for nearly thirty-five years. Surely, my husband knows it’s me placing the gifts by now, but like my parents, he never acknowledges it and lets me have the fantasy and tradition that I’ve known since childhood. I think he understands, just as my parents must have, that it isn’t about the gifts. It’s about the magic of the tradition.

It’s up to us to keep our family traditions alive, and whatever your Christmas tradition is this year, I hope it is celebrated with the magic of the holidays and the true spirit of the Christmas season. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Embrace the joy of Christmas and some yuletide cheer in this collection of five sweet holiday romances from four of today’s most entertaining authors! Featuring brand new stories from Pamela Ackerson, Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe, Cindy Lewis Smith, and Jae El Foster, this anthology will help you hold the spirit of Christmas and the magic of true love in your heart the whole year round.

Meant to Be by Pamela Ackerson: Single and starting over in tiny Lorman, Mississippi, teacher Faith Anjos dives into home renovations with tools in hand and a boat from her late dad’s fishing Sundays. Realtor Gabriel White becomes her unexpected ally, sharing lunches, family barbecues, and stolen kisses under patriotic park lights. But when a sassy ex-roommate stirs trouble and life’s curveballs hit hard, Faith learns that true love thrives not just in perfect houses, but in the messy magic of Christmas cheer and forever promises.

Window Shopping by Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe: Single and sentimental, Whitney dives into downtown’s dazzling displays—animatronic toys, frosted windows, violin carols—chasing Christmas cheer alone after helping coworker Chad remotely. Fate intervenes with a literal bump into charming Chad, leading to diner laughs, Santa’s lap shenanigans, and hand-holding revelations. As they embrace kid-at-heart traditions amid bustling streets and Santa’s sly matchmaking, a parade invite blossoms into dinner-and-movie dreams. Proving the season’s sparkle uncovers love when least expected.

Mr. Hollister’s Christmas by Cindy Lewis Smith: Thirty-three and resigned to spinsterhood in Goldfield, Josie channels her Georgia Christmas memories into a perfect Eve nuptial for Rose and Hank, footed by taciturn rancher Clint Hollister. Their prickly partnership blooms amid pine boughs, fiddle waltzes, and whispered regrets from a saloon-fueled mail-order mishap. When a wheel-wrecked ride home unveils Clint’s hidden role in her arrival—and his lingering loneliness—snowy revelations ignite a romance as timeless as the stars above the Llano River.

What the Snow Blew In by Jae El Foster: Snowbound in Deerborne, Connecticut, during a record-breaking blizzard, editor Carina Whitaker hunkers down with wine, her cat Tom Boy, and cherished Christmas ornaments—until a shivering mailman named Jerry delivers a package and seeks refuge from the storm. As power flickers out and drifts bury her home, candlelit evenings spark unlikely conversations, shared meals, and cozy traditions that warm more than the gas fireplace. Amid reading aloud by firelight and piano carols, holiday magic proves that what the snow blows in might just be the love she’s been waiting for.

The Magic of Mistletoe by Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe: Sarah’s winter break turns into survival mode: dodging doll-throwing dollops, sweeping glass shards, and sacrificing her office sanctuary for peace between battling children. Amid cold coffee confessions and contract close-calls with hubby Thomas, festive fumbles—from runaway pillows to reluctant photos—test their bond. Yet as grilled cheeses soothe tears and starry-eyed surprises arrive post-midnight, mistletoe weaves its spell, transforming holiday havoc into heartfelt harmony and impossible dreams come true.

When the muses speak, Jae El Foster writes, and he has been doing so for nearly twenty years, tackling some of the most intriguing genres out there. Delivering fresh, incomparable tales of horror, science fiction, and romance – sweet or spicy – he pens with seasoned skill the tales that his muses deliver to him.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Victoria Weisfeld

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a pdf copy of three of my award-winning short mystery/crime stories: a woman trying to escape her violent husband, a hurricane that masks a nursing home murder, and sheriff’s deputy’s trap for animal abusers. 

My Best Christmas Present

If you’re a writer, your desk is probably loaded with coffee mugs and collections of pens, pencils, notepads and paperclips, while grammar guides, marketing manifestos and the like spill from your bookshelf. That’s certainly how my “work area” looks.

Bucking the tendency to default to such perennial gifts, my grandchildren surprised me a few years ago with what may be my favorite Christmas present, well, ever. I write crime and mystery fiction (two novels, the second, She Knew Too Much, coming early in 2026), and have some 45 published short stories in that genre. In 2019, when my grandkids were 11, 10, and 8, they made a video version of my story “The West Texas Rookie,” published that year in Mystery Weekly Magazine.

This was the first of four published stories about young, tiny, and fearless Japanese American reporter Brianna Yamato making her mark in the macho newsroom of the Sweetwater, Texas, Register. Assigned to write a wrap-up story about a four-victim homicide that even the police believe needs no further investigation, Brianna proves theres always more to find out.

The kids took this story, turned it into a play, created props and (minimal) costumes, and acted it out, making strategic adaptations. At one point in the story, Brianna climbs into her car and a kid bikes up to the driver’s window to deliver a key piece of neighborhood gossip. In their version, my younger grandson rolls up on his skateboard—easier to keep in frame that way. Locations around the house were adapted to serve as newsroom, Brianna’s apartment, and the crime scene. They enlisted their mom to play the nosy neighbor. My older grandson served as principal videographer, using his mom’s cell phone, and my granddaughter (the middle child) played the intrepid Brianna. Somehow, they even created a main title and closing credits.

In their hands, the story was funny and entertaining, it still worked, and it was one of the best gifts I’ve ever received!

In She Knew Too Much, American travel writer Genie Clarke is in Rome on assignment and overhears planning for a major crime. When the gangsters realize what’s happened, they go on the attack. What she’s learned is just the first hint of a deadly criminal conspiracy that must be stopped.

More than 45 of Victoria Weisfeld’s short stories have appeared in leading mystery magazines and anthologies, including Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen MM, Black Cat MM, Sherlock Holmes MM, Alfred Hitchcock MM, and Soul Scream, with awards from the Short Mystery Fiction Society and Public Safety Writers Association. Her first mystery-thriller, Architect of Courage, was published June 2022.

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Winter Blogfest: Anne Kane

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of Ace (Riptide MC1). 

Christmas Eve

Well, it’s Christmas Eve again and most of the hustle and bustle is over. The presents have been bought and wrapped. The baking is done and the tree is up, sparkling with its lights and decorations. I even have special treats ready to pop in the oven for the pups. After all, they deserve special Christmas meals too. I have my fingers crossed that I didn’t forget anything. A brand-new blanket of white snow on the ground outside gives the world that Christmassy feeling.

Christmas is different these days than when I had a young family at home. The kids have long since grown up and moved out, but we still all get together for this one day. I am blessed with 6 grandchildren living close enough that I can walk to their house and watch them open their gifts. It’s chaos, but a happy chaos with lots of love and laughter.

My youngest lives an hour or so away and as long as the roads are passable, he will be here in time for dinner.  He always manages to make it home for Christmas. My daughter-in-law is cooking the feast this year. She says it’s easier than trying to corral all the kids and get them to leave their new treasures. I promised to bring the stuffing, my Dad’s recipe from my childhood. There will be turkey and a ham. Mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts with hollandaise sauce, gravy, cranberries, fresh buns, squash, pickles and cheese. We’ll all eat more than we should before we collapse in the living room to reminisce about Christmases past and catch up on all the news since we last got together.

Christmas, for me, is a time for family and friends. I wish you all the best of the season, and hope the New Year will bring you joy and happiness!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Someone took a shot at my Emma – and signed his own death warrant. No one hurts my woman and lives.

Emma:

After witnessing a cold-blooded killing, I run to the only person I can think of who can protect me. Ace is my high school fantasy turned big bad biker. Did I mention sizzling, sexy, and hot? He’s everything I know I should stay away from, but his touch makes me melt and when his lips devour mine, I forget why I shouldn’t let him near me. But he’s more than just a one-night stand. He makes me feel safe. Loved. Wanted. All the things I’ve never had — and that’s addictive as hell. Ace makes it clear he wants to claim me, make me part of his biker family, and keep me by his side. And I want him. Forever.

Ace:

I’ve always had a thing for Emma, but back in high school, she dated my little brother. So I moved on. Joined the Navy SEALs. Re-upped a few times, but when that last mission went south, I knew it was time to bail. Feeling lost and adrift, I came home. And patched into the Riptide MC. Finally felt like I had a home and a family. I didn’t think life could get any better. A knock on my door in the middle of the night changed everything. Emma fell into my arms, terrified and wounded. Some asshole shot my Emma. He may not know it yet, but he just signed his own death warrant. Once I’ve taken care of her, I’m going to convince Emma to stay with me. Forever.

WARNING: contains violence, coarse language, and adult situations. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Enjoy!

 

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description and an Aussie Shepherd who’s too smart for her own good. Anne likes to write spicy stories with sassy heroines and protective, sexy male heroes who love those women. Her stories all have one thing in common: a happily ever after ending.

Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar and spoiling the grandkids.

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Buy the book at Changeling Press.

Winter Blogfest: Bruce Buchanan

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free digital copy of my NA swords & sorcery fantasy novel The Blacksmith’s Boy. 

Takeout for the Buchanans

Enjoying a meal of Chinese food on Christmas Eve is a tradition hardly unique to the Buchanans. Jewish families in New York City have long seen the wisdom in a December 24th feast of General Tso’s chicken, beef with broccoli, and egg rolls with duck sauce. So it may seem strange that a crew of small-town North Carolina Methodists would dial for take-out as we awaited Santa’s arrival. But we do.

It started my freshman year of college. My parents had recently moved to Asheville, and between their new jobs, unfamiliar house, and empty nester status, they were a bit overwhelmed. I was home for Winter Break and that Christmas Eve, my Dad suggested, “Why don’t we just go out for Chinese?”

I was all for it, and to my surprise, so was Mom. She grew up in a house that valued home-cooked Southern dishes at the holidays, and plus, her frugality is the stuff of legend. Why eat out when you can make a meal at home for less money?

But she agreed to an outing at the Dragon Palace this Christmas Eve. The three of us had such a nice time that we went back the following year. And the year after, etc.

Over time, the center of our celebrations shifted to my home in Greensboro. My son—their only grandchild—proved a sufficient draw to bring them down Interstate 40 for the holidays. In lieu of going out on Christmas Eve, we found a tasty Chinese take-out spot. My wife, realizing how important this tradition was to me and being a fan of hot and spicy beef herself, gladly joined in the celebration. Each year, Dad and I would drive to secure those white-and-red cardboard cartons, whose aromas tempted us on the short return trip.

A photo from Christmas Eve 2019 is stored on my phone. Parkinson’s had ravaged Dad’s mobility and taken a fair amount of his cognitive abilities. But his love for his then-thirteen-year-old grandson shines through in that picture, moments before we dig into our annual Chinese food feast.

This December 24, my son will be home from college, and Mom will be visiting for the holidays. We’ll order out from our familiar spot, the Golden China in Greensboro. The four of us will enjoy good food and even better memories. It’ll be a fine Christmas Eve. But at some point, my eyes and mind will flicker to the empty seat and the wonderful father who started this family tradition.

 

Bok Omat thought his place in the Kingdom of Imarina was settled. The 19-year-old served as his rural community’s healer and helped in his family’s blacksmith’s shop. It was an unremarkable life in Imarina’s peasant class, but as long as his parents, sister, and young nephew were safe, a fine one under the protection of the Inishari royal family.

But when an ancient spell threatens Bok’s family and the safety of the entire kingdom, he answers an unlikely summons from Princess Isabella to join her in protecting all they cherish. Despite their vastly different pasts, Bok and Isabella become close friends as they race to counter this deadly incantation and the mysterious mastermind behind it.

Bok learns secrets that force him to reconsider all he has ever known about the world and his place in it. But will this knowledge come at the price of his life, Imarina’s freedom, or even his burgeoning friendship with Isabella?

Bruce Buchanan is the author of the new adult fantasy novel, THE BLACKSMITH’S BOY (2025, Wild Ink Publishing). His next two novels, both set for 2026, are signed with Wild Ink as well. He also is the author of a non-fiction book that recently was acquired by Bloomsbury Publishing. Beyond the keyboard, Bruce lives in Greensboro, N.C., with his wife, Amy Joyner Buchanan (the author of five published non-fiction books) and their college student son, Jackson

 

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Winter Blogfest: Barbara Custer

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. 

The Scent of Christmas

Christmas was a big holiday in our home—lights, flavors, and heart. Mom transformed the house every December, setting up not one but two Christmas trees, draping the outside in twinkling lights, and crowning every window with a wreath. But the true center of gravity, the heartbeat of the season, lived in her kitchen.

Every year, she baked pizzelles, butter cookies, and lemon drops; the aromas of anise, lemon, and butter drifted through every room. Platters of her treats made their way to friends, neighbors, and even her doctors. It was her love language—crispy, delicate, and coated with icing and sprinkles. She taught me how to bake—at one point, I was cooking handmade spaghetti and my own tomato sauce. That’s right, I’m 100% Italian, though I don’t look it.

My first years away from home were hard, but every holiday season, pulling out Mom’s worn recipe cards grounded me. The familiar mixing, rolling, and baking made it feel like she was standing right beside me. My husband enjoyed every bite, and the cookies helped smooth over a few tense moments at work. I still keep a book full of her recipes—some I’ve mastered, others continue to challenge me.

Then, about ten years ago, I found I was sensitive to gluten. You can imagine what that meant for Mom’s recipes. My first attempts at gluten-free versions were… well, let’s just call them educational. The cookies crumbled if you so much as breathed on them. Eventually, thanks to xanthan gum and the rise of measure-for-measure gluten-free flours, things began to improve. A recent trip to Termini Brothers at Reading Terminal Market changed things again. Their gluten-free cookies were so boldly flavored that I felt newly inspired—bring on the strong extracts! Anise oil has become my new best friend.

Now, the next hurdle: sugar. My eye doctors have advised me to cut back, so I’m experimenting with reduced-sugar and no-sugar versions of my favorites. That challenge is still very much a work in progress—but one I’m determined to crack. But I keep in mind that holiday magic isn’t about perfect cookies; it’s the memories we create and share, one batch at a time.

Night to Dawn 48 delivers horror and science fiction with a humorous twist, as in Matthew Wilson’s “Diet or Die;” the unspeakable, as in Hal Kempka’s “Turkey Shoot;” and occasionally, a happy ending, such as Charles Gramlich’s “Soft They Were, and Broken.” Happy or grim, the stories will keep you up at night, reading to their satisfying conclusions. The collection of short stories, poetry, and illustrations, presented by Barbara Custer, includes:

“The Golden Hour” by Rod Marsden

“Eel Soup” by Marge Simon

“We, the Possessed” by Rajeev Bhargava

“In Widow’s Weeds” by Hillary Lyon

“Truth” by Lee Clark Zumpe

“Small Differences” by Christopher T. Dabrowski

“Crime Scene Confidential” by Marc Shapiro

“Interview with a Reluctant Vampire” by Margaret L. Carter

“Mike Walker and the Old Tree” by Linda Barrett

…and many others, including dark poetry and illustrations by Marge Simon, Sandy DeLuca, Denny E. Marshall, Chris Friend, Elizabeth, Vin Davis, Hattie Pierce, and other contributors.

 

They call her Balloon Lady.

When Barbara Custer was in high school back in the 1970s, she weaned on Dracula and Dark Shadows, and has always enjoyed a good horror or science fiction flick. She did not begin writing until 1990, when a college professor encouraged her to try writing to help process her grief over her mother’s death. A Stephen King fan, her horror and science fiction short stories have appeared in numerous small press magazines. Her novels include Twilight Healer, Steel Rose, When Blood Reigns, Infinite Sight, The Forgotten People, City of Brotherly Death, and two novellas: Close Liaisons, and Life Raft: Earth. She’s been publishing Night to Dawn Magazine since 2004.

Basically, she’s a ghost balloon that haunts the towns near Philadelphia, PA. When she’s not working on Night to Dawn projects, she’s enjoying a fright flick. She maintains a presence on Facebook, Linkedin, and The Writers Coffeehouse forum. Look for the photos with the Mylar balloons, and you’ll find her. 

 

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Winter Blogfest: AK Nevermore

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of the prequel novella, Maw of Mayhem

Enjoy Those Perfect Imperfections

In my house, the holidays are synonymous with stress. The stress of always being on.Those final, end-of-year deadlines screaming to be submitted. Planning and prepping food, gifts, and trying to do it with a smile. Well, okay, more like without earning jail time.

Youd think that things wouldve gotten easier as the kids got older, but now it just feels like theres more expectations. Im constantly reminded of how things were when I was a kid, and I am absolutely baffled how my mom and grandmother pulled everything off. When I asked my mom what the secret was during a fit of absolute frustration, she laughed at me.

Apparently, the more things change, the more things stay the same. It wasnt easier back then, though pharmaceuticals were more readily available. Her words of wisdom Kids dont remember your fails. The wrong cheese, the turkey not coming out at the same time as the potatoes, none of it matters. But what they do remember, is the vibe you put out, so suck it up, buttercup.

It was at this point that I reminded her of the cranberry incident of 86. She glowered at me for a good five seconds and then laughed again. The kitchen ceiling still has pink stains on it from the resulting explosion, and it got me thinking. Yes, that had been a fail of epic proportions, but she was right. It was the vibe I remembered most.

It definitely makes me feel better about singed cookies, not having perfectly wrapped gifts, or a tree topper that remains stay upright. And this holiday season, Im determined to enjoy all of those perfect imperfections.

 

Out of options and on the run after her psychotic father’s released from prison, Kit Parson heads to the only place she might be safe from him, the Maw of Mayhem MC. The unexpected move buys her time, but also puts her at risk. Surrounded by shifters, her inner cat begs to be released, and after witnessing a brutal attack on her mother as a child, she refuses to let the monster out. Totally doable, provided no bodily fluids are ever exchanged.

That takes the MC’s hot-as-hell VP, Grimdarke James, officially off the table. Mourning the recent murder of the club’s alpha and struggling to control his inner cat, the tattooed Viking god is on thin ice. If he goes feral again, he’ll be put down. Which makes his cat’s insistence that Kit belongs to him problematic, upsetting the delicate balance of the MC’s internal politics, and the woman blackmailing Grim.

But when Kit’s father catches up with her, Grim has no choice but to trust his cat, and Kit can’t deny their chemistry. Can they hold on to each other when everything is trying to tear them apart? After a gruesome triple murder propels them deeper into the paranormal world, they find themselves with unlikely allies, even as their enemies threaten to destroy everything they hold dear.

 

AK Nevermore writes a lot. An award-winning, bestselling author of spicy dystopian, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance, she’s been traditionally, digitally, and indie published. She enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes full time around a nest full of ravens.

Her books explore dark worlds, perversely irreverent and profound, and always entertaining.

AK belongs to a bunch of industry associations, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, has been featured in Blush Magazine, made the Bookbub blog roundup, has spoken on NPR, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Marianne Arkins

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card. 

 

Christmas Traditions

I love traditions.  Growing up we had them for every holiday. For Christmas Eve we were allowed to open one package, and it was always new pajamas (that we then wore for sleeping and Christmas morning, of course). We also always got one ornament from my mom, and then when we turned 18, our ornament box was turned over to us so we could have stuff for our own trees in our own homes.

I’ve tried to continue some of those traditions with my own daughter, though her father had some say in things, so it wasn’t always possible.  That said, she always got to open one gift on Christmas Eve and she always got one ornament (still does, actually, even though she’s 24 years-old).

And it’s always ham for Christmas. Period. Never turkey or prime rib or any other type of meat.  Ham.  I put my foot down on that choice.  For me it’s not Christmas without a ham. And potatoes.  My dad used to make his famous (to me, at least) Portuguese stuffing, but my mom and I were the only ones who liked it and, though I tried making it my first Christmas after I was married, it just wasn’t a hit.  I haven’t made it in years…it’s probably the chicken gizzards (yes, really) that folks had an issue with, lol.

Some of the traditions have fallen by the wayside these days.  But we still open a gift on Christmas Eve.  And we still have ham.  Even when it’s just my adult daughter and I celebrating.  It just wouldn’t be Christmas without it.

What are some of your holiday traditions?

Liv is out to prove her high society fiancé is cheating on her. Can she do it without breaking a nail—or falling in love with Mike, the mechanic?

Olivia “Liv” Leigh, wealthy socialite and spa owner, suspects her fiancé of cheating on her. Drastic steps are required to discover whether appearances are deceiving. And if those steps require a bit of stalking, a change of appearance, a hippo-sized dog named Spike, and sacrificing her manicure to clean house for a sexy-but-sloppy man whose neighbor is determined to break several of the strangest Guinness World Records, why should that be a problem?

Mike Peck, a happily single auto mechanic, is more than content sharing his bachelor pad with piles of laundry, dirty dishes, and a sneaky ferret. But when a half-crazed woman in a bad wig shows up on his doorstep, what’s a nice guy to do?

Why, invite her in, unknowingly help her in her search for the truth and, in the process, fall head over heels with a woman who’s never been less his type.

Marianne is originally from California but currently living in New Mexico with her daughter, two dogs and two cats. She can’t imagine a world without romance or not having stories rattling around in her brain. There are nights when she dreams a complete story and watches it acted out in her head. Those are the times she wakes up and grabs for a notepad to jot down the important parts – without turning on the light – and hopes it’s coherent in the morning.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Wendi Zwaduk

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a necklace made by the author. 

My Christmas Playlist

I thought I’d pull together a list of my favorite Christmas songs. I’m kind of picky about what I like at Christmas. I’m not wild about much of the newest versions of the old songs. Here are some of my favorites (in no particular order)

“Jingle Bell Rock” ~ Bobby Helms – It’s just classic.

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” ~ Bing Crosby – this one makes me sad and think about the people in my life that aren’t there any longer. But it also makes me glad I knew them.

“Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” ~ Burl Ives – now that I know he was blacklisted, I love it even more.

“Here Comes Santa Claus (Right Down Santa Claus Lane)” ~ Gene Autry – we sang this song at school. It reminds me of being in the first grade.

“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” ~ Brenda Lee – doesn’t she have the best Christmas songs? Besides, how can you not love it and not think of Home Alone?

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” ~ Judy Garland – makes me sad, yet Christmassy, too.

“White Christmas” ~ Bing Crosby – it’s just a classic

“Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” ~ Bruce Springsteen – okay, I love how he asks how many have behaved and when he gets a poor response, he says, ah…not many, not many. Cracks me up.

“Santa Baby” ~ Eartha Kitt – she makes Christmas sexy 😊

“The Chipmunk Song” ~ How can you not like the Chipmunks at Christmas?

“Little Saint Nick” ~ The Beach Boys – I learned the Muppets version of this song and love both versions.

“When the River Meets the Sea” ~ Paul Williams, but sung by Robin the Frog and Denver with the Muppets

And….

“The Peace Carol” ~ Traditional ~ John Denver and Scooter with the Muppets

I know I left off the Drifters, Otis Redding and Darlene Love among others. They’re on the longer list. What are your favorite Christmas songs? Do you lean classic or contemporary? I’d love to know.

 

Are second chances possible? They can be in North Bend.

Alex West left North Bend behind and became the famous author RR Taylor. He’s happy with his jet-setting lifestyle, until a book signing brings him to North Bend. Surrounded by the beauty of the small town and the closeness of the community, he starts to rethink his reasons for leaving. Seeing his high-school flame, Molly Adams, brings all the old feelings back into focus. He wants to make her Christmas bright and win her heart, too.

Can he convince her to believe in the magic of Christmas and their second chance, or is the blossoming romance destined to melt with the holiday snow?

 

Wendi Zwaduk is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to BDSM and LGBTQ themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com and the former AllRomance Ebooks. She also writes under the name of Megan Slayer.

When she’s not writing, she spends time with her partner and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. 

You can find out more about Wendi on her website or on her blog. You can also find her on Instagram, Bookbub and Amazon.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Jessica Coulter Smith

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win ebook copies of Ashton Grove Werewolves books 1-3 (gifted via BookFunnel). 

Things I Love Most About Christmas

Christmas has always felt like a season that slows the world just enough to let the good things shine. No matter how busy life gets, there are a few traditions and feelings that pull me right back into the heart of the season every year.

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the tree. There’s something magical about dragging it into the house, fluffing the branches, and turning decorating into a family event instead of a chore. Ornaments come out of boxes that only see the light of day once a year—some handmade, some sentimental, some a little ridiculous—and every one of them carries a memory. Decorating the tree together always turns into laughter, storytelling, and the kind of moments that feel small at the time but become the ones you remember most.

Another tradition I love is driving around to look at Christmas lights. It’s simple, but it never gets old. Houses glow in every color imaginable, trees sparkle like they’re straight out of a holiday movie, and for a little while, the world feels softer. Even sitting in the car, bundled up, sipping something warm, feels like part of the magic. Those quiet drives remind me to slow down and enjoy the season instead of rushing through it.

I also love the cold weather—especially the possibility of snow. It doesn’t happen often where I live, which makes it feel even more special. Cold air, cozy blankets, warm drinks, and the hope that I might wake up to a white morning all add to the magic. Even without snow, winter has a way of making home feel warmer and more inviting.

But more than anything, I love how Christmas brings out the best in people. During this time of year, kindness feels easier. People seem more willing to help, to give, to show patience and compassion. It’s a reminder of how powerful small acts of generosity can be—and how much better the world feels when we choose to care for one another.

That’s what Christmas means to me: warmth, connection, hope, and a little extra kindness when it’s needed most. If only we remembered to be so kind throughout the entire year. Even a smile or a simple compliment can be enough to brighten someone’s day.

Escape to Christmas Cove, a cozy small town where magic, shifters, and holiday romance collide.

After a painful breakup, Riley is ready for a fresh start in Christmas Cove. All she wants is a peaceful life for herself and her two-year-old daughter, Sabrina. Love isn’t on her holiday wish list. When she’s stuck in a blizzard, help arrives in the form of Alex Conors — a protective, brooding werewolf.

Snowed in with a grumpy shifter and a crackling fire, Riley begins to see the gentle heart behind Alex’s fierce exterior… and Alex finds himself falling for the brave single mom who awakens something he thought he lost long ago.

Hot cocoa and toddler giggles turn strangers into something more. But when Riley’s past resurfaces and threatens the safety she’s found, Alex will have to prove that loyalty, love — and pack — are forever.

A warm, emotional holiday romance filled with shifter charm, second chances, and the magic of Christmas. Ideal for fans of protective alphas, found family, and heartfelt happily-ever-afters.

 

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a passion for storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability to transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and entertain readers from all walks of life.

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