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Christmas Reads!

I love reading Christmas stories. And writing them 🙂 Stay till the end, where I’ll hook you up to some great reads, a holiday blog hop and more!

 

Santa Cindy

Cindy ran down the steps of the museum, heels clattering on the slick stone. Damn that Ella, anyways. Promising her that this party would be different. The people gathering at a museum fundraiser had to have better manners than those other goons. These people wouldn’t stare, or whisper, or ask pointed questions.

Wrong. Wrong. And wrong again.

Did everyone know? Did they all feel as if her pain existed for their personal entertainment? Fingers shaking from cold and nerves, she searched her small clutch purse for her keys. Keyes to the monstrosity, as Ella called it.

The only good thing to come out of the whole mess, the brand new truck gleamed silver in the moonlight. Relieved, Cindy’s fingers found the keychain and pressed the button that would let her into the driver’s seat.

Gratefully, Cindy squashed her full length skirt into the cab of the truck. The red satin gown would be ruined but at this point she didn’t care too much about it. She turned the keys in the ignition, waited a few moments for the defroster to work its magic. As soon as the pale frost cleared from the windshield Cindy shoved the truck into gear and left.

She pushed buttons until she found a radio station that would lift her spirits. They were playing Christmas carols, and Cindy found herself humming along. “Who needs another Grinch? They’re all at the museum tonight!” she sing-songed to herself. A laugh escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. Damn it, she wanted to be in a foul mood.

One of her pearl earrings broke free from her ear, bounced on the skirt of her dress and fell to the floor. Her mothers’ earrings, one of the few things she had been able to keep from the witch. Scanning the empty road, Cindy took a breath then bent down to begin groping for the pearl.

The truck lost its grip on the road. Tires squealed, a woman screamed. A dull thud, then, blessedly, nothing.

“How’d she get here?” the soft voice tickled Cindy’s consciousness.

“I dunno. Thought you knew all authorized visitors.” This voice wasn’t as soft, and it brought Cindy fully awake.

“The only person I have on the schedule is the new… you know.” The soft voice became prissy.

Cindy moaned, tried to straighten from the steering wheel. Her arms strained, it was too much effort. “She’s hurt. We need to get her some medical attention.”

“Well, just as long as everyone knows it happened on your watch, not mine.”

Cindy’s eyes fluttered opened to see two small men, dressed in parka’s as long as they were tall, each reach to take hold of her arms. They’ll never get me out of here, she thought just before the blackness claimed her again.

The next time she awakened, she was in a large bed. King sized, at least. It dwarfed her, made her feel like a little girl crawling into her parents’ bed. Her fingers glided across a plush comforter, and there was a wonderful aroma coming from a bedside table. She turned to see what it was, and smiled at the cup of hot coco sitting on a warming plate. Gratefully, she took a sip from the mug and settled down to look at the room she was in.

Whoever owned this room was a big kid, she decided. An enormous doll house sat on a low wooden table, surrounded by plush teddy bears. Only one of them looked well loved, its fur worn off and its belly flat. The sight of it tugged on a memory, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re awake,” one of the dwarves that had rescued her stood framed by the door. He had apparently opened a portion of the door made specifically for someone of his stature.

“Yes, thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of me,” Cindy sat the coco back on the table and smoothed the comforter around her.

“Do you know where you are?” She shook her head no. “You’re a wee bit north of where you meant to go. But I have a feeling that you are right where you need to be. Would you mind answering a few questions for me?”

Cindy felt her heart sink at the request. Here we go again, she thought. Though he had taken care of her, had made sure that she was warm and comfortable. Reluctantly, she nodded her permission.

“Do you believe in Santa?” The little man peered intently at her, his thick gray brows drawn close together in concentration.

Cindy thought about it. “I believe that there was a Saint Nicholas, who tended to children. And I believe in the magic of Christmas, of the possibility that there might be a Santa.”

The little man nodded, obviously pleased. “Then it’s settled. Good, I had a feeling that we were about to change with the times, so I had the room made special for you.”

“Special for me? Changing with the times?” Cindy shook her head, unsure if she was supposed to be able to follow his conversation.

“Yes, it was about time we had a woman Santa. Makes perfect sense, right?”

Oh great. He had lost his mind. Cindy watched as the little man walked to the drapes directly across from her bed. With several tugs, he was able to get the heavy material to part.

Cindy gasped. Walls made of ice encircled what had to be a courtyard. She could see the tops of trees, frosted with iced fruits hanging from their branches. Was she in a dream? Did she really care? “What ever you do, don’t wake me up.”

The short man smiled. An elf. He would be an elf if this really were the North Pole. “My name is Tobias, Santa Cindy, and it is my pleasure to serve you.”

“What about…” Cindy let her voice trail off. It wouldn’t be that easy to escape her past, to leave all the pain and anger and hurt.

“You’ve had a rough life, to be sure, darlin’. Santa Bobby followed it on the Chronometer. He saw the filthy woman who claimed to care for you.” The elf came to the edge of the bed and touched her hand lightly. “He saw, too, how you never let that affect your joy. How you faced the crowds with humor, never letting them see you cry.”

Cindy released a sigh. Her shoulders relaxed, finally rid of her burden. “Well, Tobias, if I wake up, I’ll just have to play Santa on a smaller scale.” What was the use of being the richest girl in all the world if you couldn’t have a little fun with your money?

There were a few on her list that she had perfect ideas for.

The gift of knowledge to the husbands of her step-sisters.

The gift of divorce papers for the sisters.

The gift of a perpetual calendar for step-mummy. So she would know exactly how long she was incarcerated for.

 

A new magic wand for a certain fairy godmother named Ella.

And some breath mints for that prince, along with a map to the other princesses. Perhaps he’d have better luck with Sleeping Beauty or Snow White.

Cindy clapped her hands together happily. “Oh, it’s going to be a wonderful Christmas this year!”

 

I hope you enjoyed the story of the first woman Santa. Want some more great reads? Mocha Memoirs Press has some great ones out right now! The little froggie will bring you to the Season’s Reading Blog Hop, and there’s a contest link below, too!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I’ll be back a little later in the week with some great holiday reads from MMP!

 

© 2015 Wynelda Ann Deaver, All Rights Reserved.

The Gift of the Editor

I am not good at editing my own work. I’m ok at first pass, and a second. But… well. I have at least 2 Beta’s who read my work, and their comments on my grammar are awesome. Then there’s RIe, who does not only call me on my grammar but also my content / style.

I can do content editing, but not the rest. And there was one story that I wanted so badly to come out, and I just couldn’t get it there. Rie was my editor through MMP (Thank you, Nicole!), and she figured it out. Once I told her what was going on in the story (flash) piece, she knew exactly what needed to be done.

Whew!

Garden is one of my favorite stories that I’ve written. I’ve also gotten the best compliment on The Golden Apple and Other Stories because of it. My neice bought and read the book. She liked Cinder’s Ella the most, but she remembered The Golden Apple. But she told me that she thought the story Garden might help one of her friends who had lost a child…. and that hit me in my heart. At it’s heart, Garden is a story about motherhood, and grief… and love.

I don’t know if she’s shown it to her friend. Or if she did and it helped or not… But I do know that my writing touched something deep inside a reader…. and a reader that I know and love, that I spent my childhood with.

That my friends….

That’s a great editor.

(as a side note: as I’ve been writing this, my son and I have been playing Uno…. I just won my first hand. I think the booger is cheating, but I can’t prove it…. OMG, I love him!)

More soon, my lovelies.

Release Day and Beginning Writers

Hello my lovelies!

I’m in a good mood right now. It suddenly dawned on me…. I just looked my name up on Amazon and it came up not once… but twice. Yup. Two. Titles. With. My. Name.  The Golden Apple and Other Stories   and of course Dragon’s Champion

Now I need to try really hard not to degenerate myself. Because of course the first thing I want to tell you is that I write short stories right now. Dragon’s Champion is a stand alone short story, while the Golden Apple and Other Stories is a triad of retellings of fairy tales. And that’s fine! I rock at this format.

But what I want to talk about right now is  how I felt three years ago. Or two and a half. I started writing Dragon’s Champion, and I only kept writing it to see what would happen next. My heroine was a smart ass who just kept getting herself in trouble. I hand wrote the whole story. And while I was busy scribbling, something broke loose within me. Something I had stuffed way down deep for too long.

I was a writer. I write because it centers me, because I enjoy my stories and sometimes even work things out in them. I keep flinging the words out, even if no one ever reads them. I write.

And if you want to be a writer, you need to do that too. Fling your words out, polish them up, and then start working on the next. That finished story? Save it, send it out, do what ever you need to do to it. But go onto the next one, too. I’m working on my next (for an anthology call that I’ll share over the weekend), and have started plotting even another one. I have one in with my publisher as well.

Don’t stop writing. Edit when you must, but still keep your creative juices flowing. Scribble notes for your next work. Just, keep moving forward. It’s too easy to loose the habit of writing. Too easy to loose your writing period. It’s a muscle, and we have to exercise it. Use the experience of writing one to write the next, and on that next one STRETCH those muscles! You can do it!

I was so naive at 18, I actually thought I could just say I was a writer and start writing and ove into my fabulous house in the mountains. Now I know it’s not the recognition, it’s not the money (although I like both, don’t get me wrong)… It’s the story telling. It’s the words.

They matter.

Whether or not you can find them on Amazon, they matter.

So if you’re writing, just remember that. They matter.

Your voice matters.

Release Date

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So I’ve been a little absent lately. First, I was writing madly…. then in edits (which turn me into mean mommy apparently LOL).

But it’s done! I have a release date of 12/5/14 and I absolutely love the cover. Isn’t it great? And Mocha Memoirs Press gave me the absolute bestest editor ever. I can say that with authority, because she has read just about everything I write. Rie makes me such a better writer, and hung in there, believing in me, when I didn’t even believe in myself.

And now I have my second title coming out.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

This started out as one short story. Cinder’s Ella, a funky little fairy tale. It was a wee bit short tho…. And no matter how, I just couldn’t make it heftier by much. I kept running round and round on a collection of very personal fairy tales. They mean something to me, each of the three. And the two interludes. So I broached the subject with my publisher (the wonderful MMP!) and she loved the idea.

And now it comes out on the 5th! That’s Friday!

Yay!

I’ll write more tomorrow. But tonight, I just had to share…..

Jumping up and down, squealing with delight…….