'm sure if you've been following me a while you've noticed that I'm bouncing around a lot with the things I write, especially in the past two years or so. Once upon a time, I focused solely on writing fiction, but I reached a point where I was having to force the words, and I wasn't enjoying it anymore. Writing was a chore.
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Enter articles. I could write several of these a week and still my goal of writing every day. Along with those, I began to write essays and short stories, and I got more involved with writing posts about television and movies for sites like Movie Pilot (now defunct), Hidden Remote, and now Red Shirts Always Die. It was refreshing not to have to worry about plot holes and characterization. 

Recently, my first fiction novella in 2 1/2 years released, and I'm working on a second one now. I'm back in the groove of fiction writing, but I don't know when I'll return to full-length novels. Right now, I'm enjoying writing various things, and I don't have to force any of the words. Writers write, and that's what I'm doing. 

I wrote all of this to say, if you're a writer, write whatever you feel like writing. Don't push yourself to write what just isn't in you. I did that for too long, and I almost stepped away from writing altogether. I'm glad, instead, I decided to spread the words I write out over a multitude of avenues. 

I shared the news a few months ago about my becoming a contributor to Red Shirts Always Die which is a division of Fansided.com that is dedicated to all things Star Trek. Well, I was recently invited to become a co-expert on the site as well as a contributor. 

This will give me more opportunities to write for the site as well as giving me a say in the type of content that gets posted. I'm really excited about this because writing for this site has been nothing but a pleasure. It's a great creative outlet and has even spurred me on to writing science fiction short stories as well as novels. 

I hope you'll visit the site, especially if you're a Star Trek fan. We'll keep you up-to-date on the latest happenings with Star Trek, and we'll share trivia, opinions, blasts from the past, theories, and so much more. If you're like I am and can't get enough of this franchise, stop by! 

Noah flicked a glance over his shoulder to watch Ainsley walk toward a row of low-hanging shelves that still looked too high for her to reach. “Do you need me to get something for you?”

“No, no. I have it.” Standing on tiptoe, she used her fingertips to move a large basket closer to the edge of the shelf.

Things didn’t look like they were going her way. The basket tipped, and Noah ran toward her just as what looked like hundreds of strings of lights dropped on top of her head, draped her body, and cascaded to her feet. He skidded to a stop. “Are you okay?”

She peeked out through a row of lights. “So I guess I didn’t have it.”

He burst out laughing and walked closer. “Let me see if I can get you out of these.”

“I think I can…” She pushed her arm through a hole only to have another bunch of green wires fell on top of it. “If I can just get this right here…” Another poke caused a similar tumble of string.

Still laughing, Noah began to peel away the lines, unwrapping her like a chocolate bar. “Just stay still.”

“Ow! Something’s caught in my hair.” Ainsley tried to pull away from the pain.

“Wait. Don’t move.” His fingers dove into the silkiness of her blonde strands and dislocated her hair from the plug. “How many strings of lights does this place need?”

“A bunch. There’s another basket up there.” She peeled two strings apart that were tapping against her cheek. “Oh, this is ridiculous.”

Noah didn’t disagree, but he couldn’t deny he enjoyed being this close to her. The slight flush to her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes tripped up his concentration, and his fingers fumbled in the lights, causing one to smack the back of her head. “Sorry. Sorry. These things are all tangled.”

“Yeah. I noticed. What if you just lift the entire batch, and I’ll try to step out from underneath?”

“They’re not all in order, and I doubt they’re going to go at one time, but we’ll give it a shot.” Noah squatted and gathered as many of the strings as he could and began to ease them up her body. But the thickness of the strands proved more tenacious. The more he pushed, the more they slipped.

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll just stand here, and you can unwrap me.” She rolled her eyes. “This is going to take forever.”

Noah stood. His gaze meeting hers. “I’ll go as fast as I can.”

She looked back at him, and for a long second, neither one of them spoke. His gaze dropped to her lips then he quickly looked away.

​“Right. I’ll get started.” 

By the time Making Christmas Magic releases on November 2nd, it will have been two and a half years since my last book release. So I had my fingers crossed when I started submitting this book to reviewers. I'm happy to say that the first review brought a HUGE smile to my face! And I appreciate Heidi Lynn so much for such a quick turnaround time! 

On October 15th, Making Christmas Magic will be available for pre-order! Then you'll have it in your ebook reader on November 2nd!

She paused long enough to look over her shoulder. “You here alone, or did you come with Mrs. Noah?”

The blatant curiosity brought a wide smile to his face. Margie probably had a niece or best friend’s cousin’s daughter who happened to be single, and surprise, here he was single, too. “There isn’t a Mrs.”

Another pause, this time with widened eyes. “How has no one managed to snag you?” She waved a hand in front of her face.

“Listen to me. I should be ashamed of myself for embarrassing you like that.”

“I’m not embarrassed, and you don’t look ashamed.” He gave her a wink. “But I don’t think you’re asking about my marital status for yourself.”

Her cheeks flushed, and the hand-waving picked up speed. “Well, heavens no. I’ve been happily married for thirty years. Well, happily for the most part. Man sure does know how to get on a woman’s nerves.”

“Don’t we all?” Noah conceded with a laugh, wishing he had a little more than three days to spend in Broadway.

Margie stopped in front of a large, three-drawer metal filing cabinet. “So what’s the address of that piece of land you’ve inherited?”

“171 Bedwick Circle.”

Her hand dropped to her side, and she whirled to face him. “That can’t be right.”

He couldn’t be mistaking the drop in temperature in the room. “It is.” He dug into the inner pocket of his suit coat and checked the address again. “171 Bedwick Circle. I’m supposed to get the deed in the mail in the next two weeks or so, but I thought I’d…” He stopped talking when he realized he didn’t have her attention. “Margie?”

​She clamped her hands on her hips. “Well, you can’t have that property.”

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​I’m single and not looking for a relationship. In fact, I write a blog that is about helping single women in all aspects of their lives. I do that because, for the most part, I enjoy being single. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy romance. I love watching it, reading it, writing it, and seeing it with my friends and their families.

To me, romance is that special feeling of knowing you belong, that you have someone in your corner. I may not have the traditional romance of having a partner, but I do have people in my corner, friends I can depend on. One has even promised to paint my eyelids a garish blue if I cross over before she does. But then, I’ve promised to give her a clown’s grin with lipstick if she goes first. Isn’t friendship wonderful?

I’ve been writing romance for thirty-four years, and while I’ve veered off into suspense and young adult, I know I’ll never give up the wonder of romance. The journey of two souls finding their way to one another is timeless and irresistible. I can enjoy that without needing it in my life…at least not right now. 

You never forget your first true love. I never believed those words until the day I saw Sam again. And just like that, twenty years evaporated, and we were standing together by the cannons in WhitePoint Gardens.

He’d held my hand, promised we’d see each other again, but I’d known then it was a promise he probably couldn’t keep. Sam never knew when he’d be able to return…or if he could. Then he’d kissed me, just a gentle touching of our lips, and he walked away without looking back.

I’d tried to forget him. Had even moved on and gotten married, but it hadn’t worked out. For the past ten years, I’d stayed away from men because they couldn’t be trusted not to break your heart.

But there stood Sam, and my heart didn’t listen to that voice inside my head telling me to walk away as fast as I could. Then it was too late. He’d seen me.

“Victoria?” His raspy voice reached out to me across the distance between our cars. Now frozen in place, he was half in and half out of his silver Lexus.

I clutched my purse. “Hi, Sam.”

My response spurred him into action. He straightened, closed the car door, and came toward me. “Hi? After all this time, that’s what I get?” Without waiting for permission, he swept me up into a tight hug, and the moment his arms closed around me, my heart soared.

It shouldn’t. I wasn’t a twenty-five-year-old unemployed mother anymore. I’d matured and had raised two kids with lives of their own now. My heart had no business soaring because a man I hadn’t seen in two decades was holding me.

But I held him, too, breathing him in and absorbing the warmth of his body close to mine.

All too soon Sam let me go and looked down at my face. “Have you been here all along?”

“At the bank?” I knew what he meant, but I needed time to compose myself so I wouldn’t start peppering him with questions. Stupid questions like “why didn’t you call” and “do you know how worried I was about you”.

His lips curved into a smile, and I caught a glimpse of the dimple that used to make me stare. It still did. The years had been more than kind to him.

“You know what I meant. Here in Charleston. You stayed?”

I shrugged and adjusted the top button of my blouse. “It’s my home.”

He folded his arms, and the button-down shirt clung to his muscles. Still kept himself in shape. I had to wonder if he was still working for the FBI. Would he have retired by now? I couldn’t imagine him walking away from the work he loved so much…unless someone had given him a reason to.

Acting as casually as I could, I glanced down at his ring finger, but I never could get anything past Sam.

He grinned and held up his left hand. “Not married.”

My surprised gaze flashed to his face. “Ever?”

“Only to the FBI.”

“Are you still working for them?”

He’d spent most of his time undercover so many of our meetings had taken place in the dark or in some of the small towns surrounding Charleston. He had to be careful who saw him. Though it had strained our relationship, I had wanted to make it work.

“Yeah. I’m actually here on assignment right now.”

“Still chasing the bad guys?” My purse felt too heavy for my arm.

He laughed. “Actually, I’m teaching the younger guys how to chase the bad guys.”

“You’re teaching?” I wrinkled my nose. “You told me that was for old guys ready to draw a pension.”

“Who knew one day I’d be one of those guys?” With another laugh, he took hold of my arm. “Listen, I have to get to work, but I’d like to see you again.”

We didn’t know each other anymore, but I wanted to see him again. I just wasn’t sure it was a wise decision. I countered the request with a question. “How long are you in town?”

With a wry smile, he pushed my hair away from my cheek. “Always the skeptic, aren’t you?”

“Considering I last saw you over twenty years ago, I’d say I have a right. How do I know you’re not going to stand me up again?”

He lowered his hand and dipped it into the pocket of his black slacks. “Here.” He handed me an embossed card. “There’s my number. You can call me if you want to see me again.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss against my cheek. “It was good to see you, Victoria.”
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As he walked away, I knew I’d call. He knew I’d call.

Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, but I’ve never written a book set during the season. I don’t know why, but when the opportunity to take part in this anthology arose, I knew I wanted in. First, it got me back into writing fiction. I’d let that fall by the wayside as I’ve been focusing more on essays and articles. Writing about Ainsley and Noah’s story was invigorating and made me realize what I’d been missing.

Making Christmas Magic is only about 18,000 words, but I’ve already started writing an Easter novella that will come out next year with plans underway for a few more novellas. Maybe I’m not ready to jump back into writing full-length novels, but writing about romance during Christmas, Easter, or other holidays is exciting to me.

​I hope you enjoy Making Christmas Magic, my first book release in  2 ½ years. I’m looking forward to continuing on this new(ish) journey I’ve started.