November 13, 2014

My New Short Story “Christmas In Montana.”

Merry (almost) Christmas! I have a short story titled “Christmas In Montana” in the Our First Christmas anthology with terrific authors Lisa Jackson, Mary Burton, and Mary Carter.

“Christmas In Montana” is about a woman named Laurel Kelly with a crazy family, a huge regret, a man she’s loved her whole life but can’t be with, and a new, sexy apron selling business.

Here’s a snippet…

Our First Christmas 350Chapter One

I am, currently, the manager for the hard-rock band Hellfire.

I am quitting tomorrow. My boss, front man Ace Hellfire, real name Peter Watson, son of a pastor, will be unhappy.

It’s going to be a sticky situation, but it doesn’t change my mind.

I have been traveling the world for ten years with Ace, his band, and crew. I have listened to more eardrum-splitting concerts and head-banging rehearsals, and been witness to more temper tantrums and wildness than I ever wanted to see. My nerves are shot, my exhaustion complete. I don’t think I want to travel again unless it’s to a remote cabin in the woods.

I love to sew but I haven’t sewn in years. I love to embroider but I don’t know if I remember the cross-stitch. I love to cook, but haven’t followed a recipe in way too long. I love to ski, garden, and ride horses, but I never do any of those things.

I have lived out of suitcases for much of every year, my outfits a collage of color, but now I want to find a home, stay in it, and set up a sewing room.

I am a country girl from Kalulell, Montana, who has been working with hard-core rock musicians out of Los Angeles and I am done. I am headed home for Christmas, and then I will figure out Plan F, the F standing for my Future.

I miss small town life. I have always missed it, especially during the Christmas season. I did not miss, however, what happened on a snowy, dark night on a curvy road. It still haunts me.

Some might say I ran from small town country life, that I wanted the twinkly lights of the city and the excitement.

They would be wrong. I was never running from it. I loved it.

I was running from him.

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