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