1
Kringle Chapter 2 Part 3
2
Finding Mya’s 3rd Anniversary
3
Kringle Chapter 2 Part 2
4
Kringle Chapter 2 Part 1
5
Sunday Selfie with Herman
6
You’ve Got Mail
7
Sherlock Herms in Farewell to Summer
8
Kringle Chapter 1 Part 4
9
Kringle Chapter 1 Part 3
10
Kringle Chapter 1 Part 2

Kringle Chapter 2 Part 3

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story I’ve added the Links to the end of this post.

~*~

I entered the Kringle Presidential Oval Office and shut my door against the dozen employees that had chased me from the boardroom. I know, not very Presidential of me. Final Week Rush—FWR—demands decisions. Countless tasks cannot be completed without my approval. But I needed a moment.

I replayed my humiliation as I passed a sixteen-foot Christmas tree and red couches braced on either side of the white granite fireplace burning fragrant applewood. Behind the English Oak desk used by prior presidents, red velvet-draped windows provided a 180° view of Polartown and the Sulka Sika Mountains. I flung down my elfPad and watched it slide slow-mo into my mug to spew cold coffee over schematics for a new reindeer harness, employee merit reports and a complicated recipe for croquembouche. I lurched to stop further devastation. Too late!

“Bad meeting?” Valda Gulltopp appeared from my private powder room. Statuesque with hair like spun sugar, she once wore the Miss Joyous Noël crown, but was dethroned after she’d popped out of a fraternity cake attired in her tiara, chocolate frosting and little else. In school, Val was a Naughty Girl. She had made that side of Santa’s list every year.

“You don’t know the half of it.” I mopped the mess with nose tissue. “Oh no. Scotchie’s report is ruined.” I held up dripping papers. The ink had smeared to resemble a Rorschach test. I wondered what seeing a reindeer skull with guns for crossbones meant.

Valda took the report. “He uses a quill pen and parchment paper? Who does he think he is? William freakin’ Shakespeare?”

“He’s eccentric.”

“He’s a tottering-pignut. Thinks HD-TV is a communicable disease caught off the remote, and an X-Box refers to porn actresses’ girlie goodies.” Valda and Scotchie love to verbally dismember each other. I ignore rather than defend. She gazed at me with shrewd eyes. “What’s wrong? You’re wearing your ‘suffering-in-silence’ expression.”

“Noak is back on powder. Bruna is on another tinsel rant. I just lusted for Candy’s boyfriend, and Kris ate a week’s worth of sugar before breakfast.”

“I heard about Noak. Bruna’s rant is old news.” Val sat on my desk and crossed her long legs, showcased by a magenta mini sweater-dress. “But your lust for Wilde is new news. Tell me. Tell Aunt Val every indecent, depraved detail.”

“Not Wilde. Brannoc.”

I caught her before she fell. “Brannoc? Brannoc Twrgadarn?”

“There’s only one.”

“I never heard this. I’m a charter member of the Grimm County rumor mill. What happened to Wilde?”

“He’s so history, he’s prehistoric.”

She digested that. “So. You lusted for Brannoc, eh?”

“I saw them kiss under the mistletoe and…”

“And?” She leaned toward me, her abundant cleavage on display from a low neckline.

“I envisioned myself in Candy’s place.”

“Was it a French kiss?”

I knew she’d say that. “Don’t tease.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you grabbed him out of her arms and seduced him, Mrs. Robinson. It’s a harmless fantasy. We all have them about Brannoc.”

“He’s Candy’s—”

“Boyfriend, I hear you. So, for your indecent thoughts, can we look forward to you roasting on a sacrificial pyre?” She consulted her elfPad. “Three o’clock works for me.”

“I shouldn’t fantasize. I’m fifty. I’m married. Lust is behind me.”

This time I let her fall off my desk. “Holly, your age means zippo when the guy in question is sixty-nine years older than you. And just because you’re married doesn’t mean you have to join the Old Prune and Prude Club. Aside from Bruna, and that witch who pretends to clean house for you, there isn’t a female in Polartown who doesn’t lust for Brannoc. Yesterday he wore a skin-tight black leather jumpsuit, and every woman who saw him wet herself.”

I’ve been immune to Valda’s outrageousness since college when she wore a see-through dress to our sorority ball, sans underwear.

“Sexual fantasizing, eh?” She shook her chest. “You’re frustrated. When did you guys last do the marital mambo?”

Eight weeks, eleven days, but I wouldn’t tell Val. The Tattle already published way too much personal information about my family. I swallowed aspirins with the dregs from my coffee. I wondered if I had time to make a fresh pot. It would be my tenth cup of the day, but so what?

“Your Brannoc fantasy means you’re sexually frustrated. Let’s talk about it.”

“Let’s not. And it wasn’t a fantasy. Rather, a thought blip.” I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension in my neck. “I’m falling apart.”

“What’s wrong, honey? Still up peeing half the night?”

“What do you do, take notes? Yah, I’ve worn a path from the bed to the bathroom. Plus, I’m cold one minute, hot the next. I prop my legs on Kris for relief. He claims his feet were licked by the Finnish snow god, Heikki Lunta. And then this morning I wanted to wear my Ann Taylor, but couldn’t zip it. I’m seven pounds heavier than last year.”

For nineteen years I’ve kept record of my December weight. Kris isn’t the only one who transforms on Christmas Eve. As Mrs. Claus, my hair whitens and my figure balloons with an additional thirty pounds. As Mom Kringle explained, “It comes with the job. You can’t marry Santa Claus and expect to look like Sharon Stone.” Ginnie Kringle had just watched “Basic Instinct” where Sharon had opened her legs. I looked nothing like the actress, but Mom K wanted to drive home her point by comparison.

My first transformation opened a floodgate of horror, especially when I learned I would not revert to my pre-transformation body on December 26th. Kris’s Santa genetics allow him to bounce back, mine do not. Plus I’d already felt like a snow cow having given birth to Candy three months prior. In later years I handled my transformation with better dignity. Still, every December 26th I spend my birthday dying my hair and counting calories.

“I’m fat,” I whined to Val, cuz best friends can whine without censure, “and I’ve had a headache for five days.”

“You’re not fat, Holly. C’mon, I’ll give you a neck massage.”

I surveyed the mess on my desk. “I can’t sleep. I’m crabby. I’m short with Kris. I hate my body. It’s as though food goes straight to my hips. I don’t even have to eat it.” I sat. Cold wetness spooged out from under me.

“Oops.” My Director of Baked Goods grinned sheepishly. “With you on the warpath over Kris’s sugar madness, I didn’t want him to see my triple-chocolate mousse cake, so I put it on your chair. I need your oh-kay.”

There are some days better spent curled in a fetal position. I ran my finger through the mousse to taste an exquisite blend of European chocolates. “Excellent, as usual.” I blinked back tears. “I hate the woman I’ve become. I cry. I nag. I make big deals over stupid stuff.”

Val massaged my shoulders. “Headaches. Hot flashes. Bloating. Mood swings. Insomnia.”

I regarded her with horror. God, I was a mess.

“Incontinence. Memory loss. Depression.” She threw her arms wide. “You’re in menopause!”

My secretary interrupted my scream. “Kris has Brannoc in a headlock.”

Chapter 1-Part 1.  Chapter 1-Part 2. Chapter 1-Part 3. Chapter 1-Part 4

Chapter 2-Part 1. Chapter 2-Part 2

~ * ~

Holly Kringle has a very full plate. She is Highest Mayor of Polartown and President of Kringle Enterprises–the company that puts the ‘Merry’ in Christmas and the ‘Happy’ in Holidays. She is also the mother of teenagers and wife to Kris Kringle–the World’s Biggest Kid. When the reindeer are poisoned three days before Eve Launch, Holly adds amateur detective to her resume. With just about everyone in Polartown under suspicion, she doesn’t have time to dwell on employee problems, personal family issues, her 50th birthday, or investigate her husband’s highly suspicious behavior. If Dancer dies, her soulmate Dasher won’t want to live without her. And like a pod of whales beaching on the shore, the remaining Famous Eight will surely follow.

10 KRINGLE chapters will post Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Naturally there is my hope that you will be caught up in the story to want to buy the book, either paperback or ebook, and to make it so much more enticing to you, I’ve dropped the prices. Plus every penny of profit will benefit cats from a local colony. All of my fur babies, except for Herman, came from that colony. While I cannot afford to adopt another cat — when I took in Candy, Elly and Chevy over the past 12 months with Els and Chev being FIV+, that brought the Wonderpurr Gang up to 13 — I would never turn away a hungry animal who wanders into my yard, especially in winter.

Hope that sounds enticing to you Christmas novel readers. And if it does, I have created three ways for you to purchase KRINGLE, if you so desire.

KINDLE eBooks – If you enjoy ebooks, KRINGLE is available on Kindle for $3.99 with a generous royalty profit of $2.73 for the kitties.

Amazon.com – You can purchase the paperback for $7.95 where the royalty is .54 (grrr) and shipping is about $4.59.

CREATESPACE – I’ve set up a Createspace store specifically for KRINGLE readers. There the book is priced at $7.95 with a royalty of $2.13 and standard shipping is about $3.59.

I hope you enjoy the ten free chapters. And if you do, please tell your friends. Better yet…buy a book, either as a gift for yourself, or for someone on your gift list who enjoys campy, funny, holiday mysteries.

Love to you all!

Kim, Herman, Dori

and the Wonderpurr Gang

Finding Mya’s 3rd Anniversary

Finding MyaThree years ago today me and my mom published our book, FINDING MYA – He Can’t Live Happily Ever After Without Her.

It’s a 5-Star book on Amazon.com, with the art work for picture map illustrations provided by our friend Mya Campbell who was 8-years-old at the time.

To celebrate, we are giving away a copy. All you have to do is leave a comment below to enter.

In case you’re new to our blog and don’t know about FINDING MYA , here’s what the story is all about:

Eight-year-old Mya has a magical relationship with her grandma’s foster kitten, Herman. They can talk to each other. Not with words. With tickle thoughts! They plan to live together, but then the worst happens. Mya’s vacation ends and Herman is given to a woman whose dog treats cats like chew toys. He escapes danger, but the road to finding Mya is scary and tough. She promised to leave picture-maps along the way to her home. All Herman has to do is follow them and he will live Happily Ever After in her arms. It’s a wonderful plan. Too bad it goes wrong right from the start.

Here’s a scene from a chapter called DUMPSTER DIVING where raccoon brothers Danny and Huck teach me how to find food cuz I was starving.

~5~

DUMPSTER DIVING

Herman shivered inside a hollow, dead log. One lousy beetle. That’s all he’d eaten in the two days since the weather had turned bitter-cold.

Nor had he found any of Mya’s picture-maps, making him worry that she had changed her mind about him living Happily Ever After with her.

He’d be a goner if she didn’t want him. Never to be cuddled. Never to be fed tuna noms. Never to find his missing purr. As his empty tummy tied itself into knots, he began to sob.

“You okay there, pallie boy?” A raccoon peeked in at him. Read More

Kringle Chapter 2 Part 2

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story I’ve added the Links to the end of this post.

~*~

Watching Holly flee the boardroom, Kris wondered what had upset her, aside from the Bruna/Noak mêlée. And why had his pal unraveled over tinsel? He’d seemed fine during their pre-dawn sugar feast.

Under the cover of board members scattering to spread gossip, Kris ate the Pfeffernüsse that had taunted him throughout the meeting. As his tongue savored the bite of black pepper blended with cinnamon and cloves, he added ‘Pfeffernüsse’ to his list of favorite cookies.

“Got a minute, Cap’n?”

Startled, Kris inhaled the cookie’s powdered coating. “Hey, Scotchie,” he wheezed. “How’s the day treating ya?”

Gnarled with three hundred and sixty-eight years of age, Scotchie Elphinstone leaned on his cane. “Like a bairn treats a diaper.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Kris slurped his coffee. “You’re retiring in January. Bet you can’t wait.” He licked powder from his fingers and double-checked his clothes for residue. “Have you decided on Florida or Arizona? You have beaches in Florida, of course, but you can’t beat Arizona’s dry heat.”

“Can we talk? In private?”

Kris gestured to the empty room. “Here’s good. Just don’t ask for investment advice on your retirement funds. I took a bath on the Martha Stewart dolls, and they even had that nifty jail cell carrying case.”

Scotchie eased into a chair. “I have a problem, see. I—”

“This time of year, when don’t we have problems? Remember when the Scandinavians overwhelmed us with requests for porridge? Production twiddled their thumbs while Kitchen screamed for help.” Kris ate another Pfeffernüsse. “The Nisser-pixies are supposed to ensure the farmers luck and good harvests if fed and treated kindly. Right?”

Scotchie picked at bits of breakfast in his gray beard. “Aye.”

“The farmers figured they’d offended the Nissers because their crops were puny, despite the porridge left for them. By Christmas the farmers were out of oats and desperate.”

“Big messunderstanding.”

“Big misunderstanding. Turns out the head Nisse got married and the whole Nisser Nation left to celebrate. Forgot all about bringing luck to the crops. We called it Nissergate. Remember?”

Scotchie rubbed his withered leg. “Aye. However, my problem is dire.”

“Dire?” Kris reached for a third Pfeffernüsse. “Did Bollywood remake It’s a Wonderful Life? Did Austria’s carp industry bottom out and they can’t make gebackener karpfen? Did a child request a toy we haven’t heard of? Now that’s dire.”

Fuzzy-bunny pink caught Kris’s eye. Candy stood with Brannoc under the mistletoe. Scotchie grabbed his arm. Words came out of his mouth, but Kris didn’t hear him.

Why was his baby girl kissing Polartown’s notorious lady-killer?

Chapter 1-Part 1.  Chapter 1-Part 2. Chapter 1-Part 3. Chapter 1-Part 4

Chapter 2-Part 1.

~ * ~

Holly Kringle has a very full plate. She is Highest Mayor of Polartown and President of Kringle Enterprises–the company that puts the ‘Merry’ in Christmas and the ‘Happy’ in Holidays. She is also the mother of teenagers and wife to Kris Kringle–the World’s Biggest Kid. When the reindeer are poisoned three days before Eve Launch, Holly adds amateur detective to her resume. With just about everyone in Polartown under suspicion, she doesn’t have time to dwell on employee problems, personal family issues, her 50th birthday, or investigate her husband’s highly suspicious behavior. If Dancer dies, her soulmate Dasher won’t want to live without her. And like a pod of whales beaching on the shore, the remaining Famous Eight will surely follow.

10 KRINGLE chapters will post Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Naturally there is my hope that you will be caught up in the story to want to buy the book, either paperback or ebook, and to make it so much more enticing to you, I’ve dropped the prices. Plus every penny of profit will benefit cats from a local colony. All of my fur babies, except for Herman, came from that colony. While I cannot afford to adopt another cat — when I took in Candy, Elly and Chevy over the past 12 months with Els and Chev being FIV+, that brought the Wonderpurr Gang up to 13 — I would never turn away a hungry animal who wanders into my yard, especially in winter.

Hope that sounds enticing to you Christmas novel readers. And if it does, I have created three ways for you to purchase KRINGLE, if you so desire.

KINDLE eBooks – If you enjoy ebooks, KRINGLE is available on Kindle for $3.99 with a generous royalty profit of $2.73 for the kitties.

Amazon.com – You can purchase the paperback for $7.95 where the royalty is .54 (grrr) and shipping is about $4.59.

CREATESPACE – I’ve set up a Createspace store specifically for KRINGLE readers. There the book is priced at $7.95 with a royalty of $2.13 and standard shipping is about $3.59.

I hope you enjoy the ten free chapters. And if you do, please tell your friends. Better yet…buy a book, either as a gift for yourself, or for someone on your gift list who enjoys campy, funny, holiday mysteries.

Love to you all!

Kim, Herman, Dori

and the Wonderpurr Gang

Kringle Chapter 2 Part 1

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story I’ve added the Links to the end of this post.

~*~

High atop Kringle Enterprises—the company that puts the ‘Merry’ in Christmas, the ‘Happy’ in Holidays—Bruna Tannenbaum stood in the presidential tower boardroom before the Ornamentation committee, defiant to their disinterest. “Tradition is der backbone of our industry, but too many of our traditions haff been cast aside in der name of progress.”

This morning she had tortured her lavender hair into a pompadour. Her green jacket had leg-of-mutton sleeves with padded shoulders, and her purple skirt accommodated a bustle. I think of Bruna’s fashion-sense as Late Victorian Power Dressing.

“First vee allow electric fairy lights to replace tree candles. Next, fake trees replace live.” Her bird-like eyes peered down her hawkish nose. “But vot I cannot accept is plastic to replace silver in der tinsel.”

I glanced at my watch. Bruna had clocked twenty-one minutes on the tinsel topic and showed no sign of stopping. I sympathized with her desire to use real, wafer-thin silver, but the tarnish factor is too high, plus the lead is lethal to children and pets. Regardless, she brings up the issue every year. Bruna lives in the past where toxins had yet to become a big deal. My supervisor’s anesthetized expressions urged me to interrupt her. Around the table, amid cookies and cocoa mugs, I’d spotted Bruna Bingo cards. As often as she’d used tinsel, tradition, plastic and progress, someone would cry ‘Brunie Bingo’ at any moment.

Fleur held a potpourri basket filled with such intense aromas, I wanted to throw up. Berries from Martee-Kay’s pepperberry wreath had loosened with her hummingbird-like impatience and rolled across the table to Iluminada, whose broad, Chippewa features had frozen over her candles spelling J-O-Y in six languages. Poised to discuss stockings, Sukka crocheted her flaxen hair in with the yarn.

Noak Lundegaard stood beside a life-sized topiary of Dancer, arms crossed, expression crosser. Noak could pass for Kris’s brother instead of his best friend. As he had just completed his third stint in rehab, Noak stood to avoid the temptation of baked goods strewn across the table.

Bruna droned on. “Real tinsel is magnificent with der silver and pewter, its drape perfect across each branch. At one time every home used tinsel, but no longer. Vhy? Vhy? Can you tell me vhy?”

“I’ll tell you vhy.” Noak crisscrossed his arms. “Pets eat the stuff. It’s pretty spendy to unwind it from a cat’s tonsils, you know?” Read More

You’ve Got Mail

Actually… yoo don’t got mail. I gotz mail. From a repawsentative of Chewy.com named Chester P. Sprinkles who lives with Chelsea W. who works there.

Hi Evfurrybuddy! It’s me, Dori. *wavy paws*

Chester saw my post Where Babies Come From and wrote me a fan letter. He even drawed a cute lil stork and made a Chewy box wif two kitties inside it.

I am so honored that Chester and his hoomom took the time to write to me. See, this is what my family loves about Chewy.com. They not only have a wonderpurr list of pet products, and of course the world’s greatest boxes…but they honestly care enough about their customers to interact with them.

How many times have you seen an Anipal posting a photo of flowers sent by Chewy after their fur baby has gone OTRB? Or sent a care package when a fur kid is feeling sick? Chewy.com cares. They like us. They weally weally like us!

We weren’t asked to promote Chewy in Where Babies Come From. We just wanted to pass the word that babies come in Chewy boxes. Cuz…they do. As yoo can see in Chester’s letter, that’s why kitties can never resist playing in Chewy boxes…cuz it was their furrrest memory! Explains everything!

 

Sherlock Herms in Farewell to Summer

Sherlock HermsHi Pals! Well, summer hiatus is over. Thank Cod! It was a long n hoomid summertime and frankly, I’m happy to wave buh bye!

My next Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mystery adventure will debute Friday, September 22nd. In past cases I’ve been plagued by self doubt and insecurities that I can ever measure up to being a master detective like Sherlock Holmes or a hardboiled detective with grit in his blood like Sam Spade. But no more! I’m taking control of my destiny–kicking tail and taking names!

For those of you who spent way too much time at the beach and had your memories singed by the sunshine, I’ve posted the final chapter from my last adventure below. It’s a cliffhanger…without the cliff. Although it’s got a scary grave in it somewhere.

Anyway! I’m looking forward to seeing all of you next Friday. Until then…

Have a Wonderpurr Week!

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Feral Informants.

Sherlock Herms in… Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Mom sighed as she disconnected her phone. “This ghost hunting career of yours has turned dangerous,” she said to me. “And I’m mad at myself that I’ve been too distracted setting up this bed and breakfast to notice what’s been happening right under my roof.”

“I’m getting out of the purranormal biz. At least I hope to,” I reassured as I led her downstairs and out the front door where Dori sat on the porch steps. “What did you find?”

Dori swiped a paw across her weepy eyes. “Nacho led me to Violet’s grave. He said Dottie is buried there, too.”

Mom abruptly went back inside. I wondered if she was nervous about what I’d asked her to do and needed to pee, or was backing out of our plan to trap Dottie’s killer in a confession. But then she returned with scissors and a large shopping tote that smelled like bread. As she snipped several yellow Julia Child roses from the nearby bushes she said, “Crawl inside the tote, under the bread loaves. Patty Kiss claims to be allergic to cats. She won’t allow me inside her home if she sees you.”

I pushed aside the crusty loaves to settle at the bottom of the tote. Dori climbed in beside me. As Mom carried us to the house next door, I whispered the plan to Dori. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “Hoomons can be so dissy-pointing.” I couldn’t agree more.

I heard Mom whisper, “It’s show time!” and ring the doorbell. A moment passed before the door opened and I heard Patty Kiss say to Mom, “What a surprise.”

“I was on my way home from the store,” Mom told her, “but when I saw how pretty my roses were, I cut a few for your home.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “My grandmother planted those bushes years ago. But she never shared them with me.”

“Cuz yoo is a bad lady,” Dori whispered inside the tote, and I told her to Shhh. Read More

Kringle Chapter 1 Part 4

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday through November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story, I’ve added the Links to the end of this post.

~*~

Candy kissed his cheek. “Remember. Nine o’clock sharp. Ornament meeting.”

“What are you, my human day planner? Go sprinkle the world with beauty, Miss Joyous Noël. I’ll be there on time.”

“And you’ll stay there?” Her eyes narrowed.

As he said, “Yah yah,” he thought Candy’s gorgeous face, sunshiny hair and blueberry-blue eyes resembled her mother…except Holly had auburn hair and brown eyes, but even after twenty years together he still thought her the sexiest woman alive. And now their daughter was almost grown. Not quite. She was what, fifteen? He left the birthday facts and figures up to Holly. Seemed like only yesterday when three-year-old Candy sat on his lap and exclaimed how much Santa looked like her daddy.

“What are your plans today?” he asked. “Hair appointment? Clothes shopping? It’s not every day you’re sculpted in ice.”

Candy froze halfway into her pink faux bunny-fur coat. “Am I less than perfect?”

Kris noticed Cookie shook her head. “No, honey. You look great. Wasn’t I just saying, Cook, how spectacular Candy looks these days?”

Cookie nodded. “Extra special, ultra-spectacular.”

Candy buttoned her coat. “I hate to be touchy, but my crown demands me to adhere to a high standard. Malkorka says image is everything. I have to be perfect.” She didn’t sound happy.

“Why would you care what my crackpot secretary says?”

“As the first Miss Joyous Noël, Malkorka set the standard for future candidates. She composed the Miss Joyous Noël ideal criteria handbook.”

“She’s also responsible for the tradition where I have Yuley-the-goat knock his horns on Scandinavian doors so I can give gifts in exchange for porridge. Not only am I so sick of porridge that I have dry heaves when I fly over Sweden, but I still have goat stink in my nose hairs from last year. This year Yuley stays home.”

“And forget tradition?” his daughters asked in unison.

His heart lurched. Tradition! He loved tradition. He was steeped in tradition. He was no one without tradition. “Fine. Yuley can come. But I want a new tradition where Malkorka gives him a bath before I leave or she has to shave her head.” Read More

Kringle Chapter 1 Part 3

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday through November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story, here’s are the Links to:

Chapter 1-Part 1.  Chapter 1-Part 2

~*~

Kris scowled. Holly Kringle suffered no fools and she had just let everyone know what she thought of him. His silent family underscored his guilt. Even Andy Williams stopped singing.

“Does this mean you’re not going to your Ornament meeting?” Candy sounded worried.

Kingston smirked. “You really fell out of the Stupid Tree and hit every branch this time, Toy Boy.”

LaRoux hurled Candy’s diced melon at her husband. “Holly shouted at you too, Monsieur ‘Gimme thumbthing to kill dis thaste in ma mowf.’ Take a deep breath and smell the coffee. It’s burning.” She followed Holly’s exit.

For a scary moment Kris expected his father-in-law to detonate all over the kitchen. Then Kingston noticed Candy’s gaze on him and forced a chuckle. “Love shucks le peas from a man’s le pod, Cooper. Be smart. Stay single. Avoid French women.”

Cooper grinned. “So we’re creating a new chain of islands? Where? South Pacific?”

“Hawaiian’s. It’s gotten rather cold over there on the Hot Spot.”

Kris wanted to hurl more melon at the old troll, followed by the knife Candy used to dice it. Holly should have been Mother Nature when her Nanny Anian passed away, but instead Kingston inherited the power. Five months ago his heart attack forced him to realize he didn’t have an heir trained. When Holly refused, Cooper—the Santa heir—became Kingston’s choice.

Kris’s alarm knew no boundaries. Batman had the Joker for his archenemy. Santa Claus had Father Nature. Read More

Kringle Chapter 1 Part 2

With Christmas fast approaching, I thought why not ease you all into the spirit of the holiday with ten chapters from my novel, KRINGLE. Yes! Ten free chapters for you to enjoy running Monday through Thursday until November 16th. Hope you enjoy!

To catch up on the story, here’s the Link to Chapter 1.

~*~

“Morning all.” He shook snow from his soaked parka onto my freshly mopped floor. “Beautiful day, Kingston. You outdid yourself.” He tossed his parka at the coat tree—missed—then kissed me with exaggerated passion, gave our children each a peck to their brows, and for a grand finale bent my mother backward over his arm for a theatrical smooch that left her giggling girlishly.

Let me clarify here, the image you have of Santa Claus describes Kris on Christmas Eve when he undergoes a magickal transformation. His hair whitens, his beard thickens and he gains a sixty pound belly. Pre-transformation he’s a Viking stereotype: Wheat-blond hair shot with gray, a close-cropped beard the shade of toasted coconut; brawny-built, weight appropriate for six-foot-three. At fifty-five, Kris still turns heads, mine included.

And then there are days like today when my head keeps turning as though I’m being exorcised. Read More

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