Sugarplum Way by Debbie Mason – Q&A and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by the publisher to celebrate tomorrow’s release of Sugarplum Way by Debbie Mason. Win 1 of 10 finished copies of Sugarplum Way.

Welcome back to Long and Short Reviews, Debbie. What did you want to be when you grew up?

By the time I was ten, I not only knew I wanted to be a writer, I knew I was going to be one thanks to my grandfather, who was an author, and told me I would be one, too. I also wanted to be a doctor, a journalist, and a fashion designer.

How do you do research for your books?

The internet, non-fiction books, magazines, newspapers, documentaries, and occasionally I’ll interview someone.

What is your most embarrassing moment?

They’re all equally embarrassing when they happen, so I’ll go with the most recent one. I came out of the store and got into our car, only it wasn’t ours. My husband who was waiting for me two cars over shook his head and gave me a you-did-it-again look. Because yes, I routinely get into other people’s cars.

What is your favorite food? Least favorite? Why?

I love pretty much anything with cheese, and any type of cheese. I could live on salads as long as they included cheese. Least favorite would be head cheese, which is not a dairy cheese, but a meat jelly made from the head of a calf or a pig. And yes, people actually eat head cheese, including my mother, but just the thought of it makes me gag.

What is your strangest habit?

I eat tablespoons of peanut butter straight from the jar.

Have you ever eaten a crayon?

I routinely chew on pencils and pens, so I’m sure I’ve eaten a crayon or two. Just not recently.

Romance writer Julia Landon knows how to write a happily-ever-after. Creating one for herself is a whole different story. But after a surprising–and surprisingly passionate–kiss under the mistletoe at Harmony Harbor’s holiday party last year, Julia thought she might have finally found her very own chance at true love. Until she learns her Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broodingly Handsome has sworn off relationships. Well, if she can’t have him in real life, Julia knows just how to get the next best thing….

Aidan’s only priority is to be the best single dad ever. And this year, he plans to make the holidays magical for his little girl, Ella Rose. But visions of stolen kisses under the mistletoe keep dancing in his head, and when he finds out Julia has written him into her latest novel, he can’t help imagining the possibilities of a future together. Little does he know, though, Julia has been keeping a secret that threatens all their dreams. Luckily, ’tis the season for a little Christmas magic.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Aidan smiled that slow, sexy smile of his just before he lifted his gun and fired. The glass shattered, and the. . .

A shrill beeping sound pulled Julia out of the story. Startled, she jumped. Her initial thought was that she’d put on the teapot and had forgotten to turn off the burner. She blinked and opened her eyes. She’d been trying to get deeper into her character’s point of view by typing with her eyes closed. It hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped. But it had ensured that she didn’t see the smoke . . . Smoke! There was smoke filling her living room. Again.

Duckety, duck, duck, duck.

The annoying voice on the smoke detector bleated fire, fire.

“Julia, open the damn door!”

Frantically searching under the papers littering her desk for her cell phone, she ignored the voice. Though she was impressed. It was amazing how real Adrian sounded. Like he was right outside . . . Wait a minute. He was calling her name, not Gillian’s. Crap, it was Aidan. Double crap, she knew why he was here. She’d thought she’d have until morning to face him.

“Hang on! I—” She heard a loud bang at the same time she found her phone. “I’m coming!” she called, running to the outside entry door as she punched in the assigned number for the alarm company.

At the same time she realized there was no dial tone, Aidan kicked in her door. It bounced off the wall and the hulking shadow of a man filled the open doorway. If she hadn’t recognized his voice, she’d be terrified. Given the intimidating expression on his face, she wondered if maybe she should still be afraid.

Fire, the smoke detector bleated again. Right, fire, smoke. “Hurry, I need your phone!” She made grabby motions with her fingers.

He looked at her like she’d lost it and strode into the room. “Your alarm is connected to the station. They’ll be on their way. Where’s the fire? Do you have an extinguisher?”

“No, no, I don’t need the fire department. I need your phone.” She rushed forward. He didn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation, and she began patting him down.

He reached in his pocket, punching in a code before handing her his phone. Of course his would be password protected.
“Thanks,” she said to his back as he prowled around her apartment, no doubt looking for the source of the smoke. “Um, I think my nachos are on fire.”

She made a face at his muttered, “You have got to be shitting me.” And then went to look up the alarm company’s number on her phone, only to realize she couldn’t access it because her cell was dead. “Duck.”

She raced to her desk searching for the alarm company’s business card while muttering to herself, “I need the number. Where would I put the number for the alarm company? Laptop. Of course.” Laptop, no! It was on and open for him to see. She slammed the lid shut at the same time the oven door bang closed.

Aidan strode from the kitchen wearing her burned oven mitt and carrying a charbroiled tray of smoking ash. “It’s usually on the unit,” he said dryly before heading out the door.

About the Author: Debbie Mason is the USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado and Harmony Harbor series. Her books have been praised for their “likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots” (RT Book Reviews). When she isn’t writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, three wonderful children, two adorable grandbabies, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella in Ontario, Canada.

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