Drakenfall resort in the village of Tippingstock is the place to be for Christmas. Owned and operated by Lord Mark Shiley and his American wife Maisy Potter, gives credence to the belief that magical things happen at Drakenfall. How else could an American girl have become the wife and true love of a Baron?
As the resort prepares for the lavish annual Christmas Ball, hope and expectation fill the air. Employees and guests alike wonder if they too might find a little magic and love this Christmas. But different cultures, social stations, goals and confusion collide and threaten to derail everyone’s chance at happiness.
The house manager Glynis feels that love, like the years, have passed her by. Pippa the maid is convinced that she is not worthy of Kafi’s interest, much less his affection. And when Maisy’s parents arrive on the scene unexpectedly, she fears her secret will ruin her charmed marriage with Mark.
A Drakenfall Christmas is entertaining, sweet and fun. The characters are an assortment of holiday gumdrops: colorful, rich, spicy, sweet, and even a sour one or two.
Geralyn succeeds in making readers believe that Christmas is indeed a magical time. In the words of one of her characters, ‘We enjoy the people who are always with us. We take time to experience the best there is to have right in our very own lives.’
And love is alive and possible more than at any other time of year.
Veronica Jorge
See you next time on December 22nd!
Linda O. Johnston, a former lawyer who is now a full-time writer, has published 52 books so far, including mysteries and romantic novels. More than twenty-five of them are romances for Harlequin, including Harlequin Romantic Suspense and Harlequin Nocturne. Her latest release is Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire, for Harlequin Romantic Suspense. She has also written several mystery series including the Barkery & Biscuits Mysteries and Superstition Mysteries for Midnight Ink, and the Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter Mysteries and Pet Rescue Mysteries for Berkley Prime Crime. Nearly all Linda’s current stories involve dogs.!
Lately, whenever I sit down to write, a million extraneous thoughts begin to wheedle their way into my head. Some irrelevant, others more important, they all tangle together, creating a web of distraction that entraps my creativity, smothering it in disorganization. Priority be damned, I sadly seem to let every random thought overtake me, derailing me from my storytelling track.
Frustrated and struggling to find some much needed time to finish my next chapter, it suddenly occurred to me that my biggest stumbling block to success is me, myself and I!
Anxious to finish chapter thirteen in my new book, I sat down at my computer and constructed my opening paragraph. Yeah, I can do this. But then I remembered, I forgot to pay my Talbots bill. Struggling back to the story line, I was distracted by my rumbling stomach. Did I ever eat breakfast this morning? Oh yes, I had toast with peanut butter. My neighbor called asking to borrow something or other and my mind began to wander. I definitely need to take a trip to the market to get more something or others. Back on task again, I glanced at my calendar resting on my desk. Jeez, I forgot my dentist appointment was tomorrow. Noting the date, I panicked. My daughter’s wedding is in three weeks and I have a million more things to do. Where am I ever going to find a pair of shoes to go with my dress? The shoes need to be the right shade of blue, comfortable and not too pricey. Maybe I should check online.
Achh, I was doing it again! I needed to stop my wandering mind and get back to my chapter. But how was I ever going to tame my chaotic brain?
Afraid I might be losing my writing mojo; I called my good friend who suggested that I create a To Do list and make a check each time I finish a paragraph until I finish the entire chapter. Good idea, right? Wrong. At least wrong for me. I already know what I need to do, I ‘m just not doing it. So I rationalized, if a To Do list can bring success, how about a Not To Do list?
After some reflection, I grabbed a moment and created a short, but sturdy Not To Do list:
It’s day three of my Not To Do list and it’s going okay… I guess. Unfortunately, chapter thirteen is still incomplete, but at least it’s a lot further along than it was.
I think I need to add a 6th item: I will neither panic nor give up if this doesn’t work right away.
Perhaps you too have faced these same struggles? If you have any strategies that have worked for you, I’d love to hear them.
Until then, Happy Writing!
1 0 Read moreA perspective client and I were in the first stages; you know, where you get a feel for one another to be sure of a good fit. It was a great exchange. She was funny and literate and serious and we quickly decided to move forward (I passed muster too!). Before she sent her manuscript she had one last question: What are the five things a writer should bring to the editorial table. Great question!
My response:
And I love doing just that.
1 0 Read moreThe book winked at me; the title something like Curing Your Back Pain Without Medication. I was desperate. I couldn’t stand up straight, couldn’t walk without pain, couldn’t get out of bed without pain, couldn’t sit without pain…for twenty years I’d been in pain…
Sitting in the library—the wooden chairs were without cushions; I’d be able to stand back up—I read…
Most back pain wasn’t caused by disks or bulges but by one or more strong negative emotions. The author listed five: Regret, Shame, Rage…
I stopped reading.
Rage.
I’d gone to a back-specialist years before. He’d shown me my x-rays. Pointed out my problem. Then he’d said something very curious, “I’ve seen patients with x-rays far worse than yours who are pain free.”
Was it possible that my rage was causing my pain? Years before I would’ve “raged” at that idea. Me? I’m not the cause of this! This is physical! See, look at the x-rays! But so many doctors later, I wanted the cure to be within my own grasp. You see, if I was causing my pain, I could also stop it.
I followed the author’s recommended procedure. I journaled about my rage. I mentally imagined going down into my rage basement and cleaning it out. I opened the basement windows, let in the fresh air.
Nothing worked.
Why would it? I’d been wronged by another person. Horribly wronged. I tore up the journal. Returned the book to the library. It had only made me angrier.
I began to walk along a well populated trail not far from my home. As I walked, I raged at God. After all, he, being the ultimate authority, was responsible for the hurt I had suffered at the hands of another. I don’t know what the other people along the trail thought of me, shouting up at heaven—I do not rage silently—but I am now quite well known by those who walk there.
After three months of this raging, as I returned from the trail to my truck, I recalled an incident where I had hurt the person who was responsible for my rage—the person who had hurt me.
Tired from my walk, on that wonderfully crisp fall day with the dead leaves crunching under my feet, I realized how terrible my words had been, how much pain they must have caused. I also realized that I never wanted to hurt another person as badly as I’d been hurt. I returned home and wrote a letter apology. Of course, that letter was quite difficult to write. I tended to digress…
“I am sorry, but you did this to me!”
Many crumpled sheets of paper later, I finally had a letter which only said “I’m sorry.” It did not blame the other person, or call to mind any other incidents—of which there were many. It did not speak of my pain, only the pain I may have caused. I sealed the letter, mailed it, and forgot it. After all, I knew this awful person I was apologizing to. I knew not to expect anything.
A week later I received in the mail a handmade envelope. Inside was a letter, written in ink without a single mistake. It said many things, but mostly it said, “I’m sorry, too.”
As I read that letter my pain disappeared. Occasionally, I wrench my back. But then I rest and the pain goes away. The weeks and months of pain are gone. I’m free. I’ve been free now for ten years. The pain left with the rage. I’m writing this to you, because that winking library book helped to heal me. It set me on a path which gave me back my life. It was a non-fiction book, but fiction is the same. It heals, because the stories we tell enable others to learn, to navigate this difficult life. Write. I swear, inside you is the medicine for a thousand wounds.
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More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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