UPDATE: The winner is…Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

For Black History Month, my post will focus on an amazing book I discovered while researching my October 2023 D.D. post on Hallie Q. Brown (1850-1950). Published by Ms. Brown in 1926, Homespun Heroines and Other Women of Distinction contains sixty biographical sketches/essays written by twenty-nine contributors. Ms. Brown wrote 21 of them.

Here is the book’s dedication which includes a verse of poetry by poet Clara Ann Thompson (1869-1949):

In memory of the many mothers who were loyal in tense and trying times, this volume is affectionately dedicated to the National Association of Colored Women of America and Canada.

Through all the blight of slavery
They kept their womanhood
And now they march with heads erect,
To fight for all things good,
Nor care for scorn nor seek for praise,
Just so they please their God.

Whether well-known like Phillis Wheatley or less well-known like Martha Payne, the mother of Daniel Payne, who founded Wilberforce University, each essay shares how these women impacted society in whatever role they found themselves.  By publishing Homespun Heroines, Hallie Brown and her co-authors made sure the world learned about women worthy of remembrance regardless of their “lot” in life.

In the foreword, author and teacher Josephine Turpin Washington (1861-1949) begins:

“Interesting as are the facts recorded in this book, they do not constitute its chief value. That is found in its reflection of the wonderful spirit which moved the women who strove and achieved, despite obstacles greater than any which have stood in the way of other upward struggles.”

Then she ends with, “The result is a work which not only furnishes useful information, but—what is even more—inspires to finer character and racial development.”

My edition of Homespun Heroines is part of a collaboration between the Schomburg Library in Harlem, Dr. Henry Louis Gates, and Oxford University Press. In his Note from the Schomburg, Howard Dodson, the Schomburg’s director at the time, wrote that when titles from the 19^th century were being reprinted in the 1960s, with the exception of well-known names like Phillis Wheatley, the work of women was notably absent. The Schomburg therefore created The Schomburg Library of Nineteenth-Century Black Women.

By sharing my African American women posts here on Delilah’s blog I think that I too am honoring the “memory of the many mothers who were loyal in tense and trying times” as Hallie Brown and her co-authors did. Their work has inspired me to begin compiling information on African American women of the modern era as well as continuing to share about those from the 19^th century. I’ve already written about some of the women found in Homespun Heroine’s pages. I look forward to sharing about others I’m discovering thanks to this fantastic resource.

For a chance at a $10 Amazon Gift Card, share in the comments any thoughts you might have on this post or the name of a resource that you’ve learned Women’s History from.

One Breath Away by Michal Scott

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more. Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex. Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt:

Arousal—fondly remembered and sorely missed—sizzled between Mary Hamilton’s well- rounded thighs. Moisture coated her nether lips and threatened to stoke the sizzle into a blaze. The sensation surprised her, as did the owner of the gaze that lit the flame.

Eban Thurman stood against an opposite wall of the town’s community hall. Although the room was wide as two barns and filled with revelers, neither the distance nor the presence of the crowd lessened the power of his gaze. He studied her with a curiosity that didn’t grope with disdain, but caressed with approval.

With respect.

This kind of appreciation was never given to women as dark and as large as she. Gratitude heated her face.

Gratitude and embarrassment. Her lavender toilet water couldn’t hide the fragrance of arousal. She shuddered with shame then glanced around. Had anyone else detected the odor? All the merrymakers seemed too caught up in the rhythmic fast fiddling and foot-stomping of Safe Haven’s seventh annual Juneteenth Revel to notice her discomfort.

In 1872 Texas who took note of a black woman who ain’t been asked to wed?

Yet Eban’s perusal said not only did he take note, but he liked what he saw.

Buylink: https://amzn.to/2u5XQYY

Release Date Delayed

I have sad news.

I had really wanted to show up today blaring trumpets and screaming “I have a new release! I have a new release!”, but unfortunately, I can’t.

My PNR wolf shifter book that was scheduled to release today, had to be postponed. So instead, I’m here to take a brief break before I go back to frantically trying to finish it so the proofer can get through it before it’s due to Amazon in less than a month.

If you think fated mates wolf shifters are for you, you can pick up the first one in the series, Drew (for free) here, and you can preorder Callum, which will be out next month (if all goes well) here.

Bookstagram Reviewer’s Choice Award: Romance Edition

I come with some news though. I’m starting up a Bookstagram Reviewer’s Choice Award.

What is that?

Well, right now I’m recruiting active bookstagrammers who love to read and review romance books! In March, I’ll be opening up the entry form for romance authors to enter their book (so long as it’s published between May 2023-April 2024).

This is an excellent opportunity for both Bookstagrammers and romance authors to connect with each other and to reach new romance readers.

There will be prizes for the top scoring entries in each category.

Judges will be receiving the books they judge for free.

Follow me on Instagram and follow the contest at our new Instagram account.

If you’d like more information, you can read about it here.

And if you’re a Bookstagrammer and you think you’d like to be a judge, you can sign up here.

How about a quick, unedited excerpt from Callum?

A few more hours and she could supervise the cleanup. Tonight, she’d sneak away to the tree fort for some quiet reading time, and if she was lucky, she’d miss seeing her father tonight.

As she thought through her plans, she straightened a tray on the table, and that’s when it hit her.

Or—more correctly—hit her nostrils.

The spicy, sweet scent from the other night, the one she’d thought was a cologne.

It was stronger now and immediately she realized what it was. Her mate.

For a second, she closed her eyes and just breathed in the intoxicating scent.

The noise of the crowd faded to a dull buzz. Across from her, someone shifted, and she just knew.

Looking up, there he was, the blond man, Elliot’s cousin, staring at her.

Her mouth watered as his scent flooded her senses. He was beautiful. His blond hair was darker at the roots and lighter at the tips, styled with a forelock that twisted and dipped across his forehead. A slight beard scruff covered the dimple in his chin.

He was stunning, and…related to Elliot.

Her father would never approve. Fated mate or not.

If he knew.

Her mate swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “It’s you.”

Quickly, she glanced around before hushing him. “Don’t talk to me. Not here.”

With that, she turned on her heel and fled, her mind whirling with each step.

New plan.

Seduce her mate and convince him to imprint on her before her father found out.

Belated Valentine’s Day Gift!

Happy Valentine’s Day (Yeah, I know, it’s a couple days late)!
Sign up for my newsletter and receive a free copy of Arrested Valentine!

What do you do when you find out your ex-boyfriend was cheating? You spend Valentine’s with your bestie and a bottle of Vodka. Maybe she suggests you slash the cheater’s tires. Maybe you get arrested by the sexiest cop you’ve ever seen.

A day dedicated to love. How bad could it be?

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

I’m getting close to “The End” of Malcolm! Good thing, too. It releases next Tuesday! Since the story is on my mind constantly—I kind of live it in an alternate reality in my head—today’s Word Search puzzle is filled with random elements of the story.

Enjoy the puzzle and the excerpt from the story below! And if you leave a comment, you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Excerpt from Malcolm…

Malcolm Winslow knew he stood out in this crowd. How could he not? With his longish, uncombed hair, thick beard, and the tattoos displayed by the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt, not to mention the fact he was armed and wore a Kevlar vest, he drew every eye the second he entered the fancy barn that was lit up like the Fourth of July.

Those closest to the open doors were the first to fall silent. Hands touched shoulders and then pointed toward him as he resolutely made his way toward the trellis constructed between horse stalls on either side of the wide space and strung with white lights and roses, where a couple in their wedding finery stood before a preacher.

A groomsman tapped the groom on the shoulder, and he tore his gaze away from his stunning bride to glance down the aisle Malcolm strode down.

The groom’s eyes widened, and he turned to his bride, dug something from his pocket, and then said, “Candy, here are my keys—run!”

The groom slapped keys on her palm, straightened his shoulders, and stepped in Malcolm’s path.

Malcolm gave a single shake of his head, smacked away the groom’s raised fists, then bent to ram his shoulder into the other man’s chest.

The groom flew backward as Malcolm picked up his pace and ran toward the smaller back door of the barn through which the bride had just escaped.

Outside in the dusky gloom, he caught a glimpse of bright white as the bride, Candy Bodine, almost Carmichael, climbed a corral fence. He was surprised at the number of people standing on either side of the door outside this end of the barn but didn’t have time to figure out why they were there because Candy had just jumped down from the fence to the other side, snagging her long train on a nail. She ran forward, but her train held fast, springing her backward and onto her butt on the dirt.

She rolled, tangling herself in petticoats and torn train, and got to her knees. She stared back at him as he jogged toward the fence, planted a hand on the cedar fencepost, and sailed sideways over the top. Yeah, his feet skidded a bit in horse poop when his boots hit the ground, but the bride wasn’t so pristine now either, kind of like her rap sheet.

This time, she’d failed to appear before the judge for a drunk driving/failure to yield at a stop sign/fleeing the scene set of charges. And if Malcolm had anything to say about it, she was not heading to the private airport where Daddy had a plane waiting to fly her to some resort vacation in the Caribbean. As soon as Malcolm snicked the cuffs on her wrists, she’d be spending what should’ve been the first night of her honeymoon inside the detention center in Bozeman.

No amount of crocodile tears was going to dissuade him from his purpose.

UPDATE: The winner is…Stacey Kinzebach!
*~*~*

Happy New Year!

I started 2024 by publishing a new book! Well, I re-released a book, that is.

My Mistletoe Master was originally published in 2016. It was my first book. I recently got my rights back from the publisher and decided to try my hand at self-publishing. It has a brand-new cover, a fresh edit, and a prologue that’s included for the first time!

Plus…it’s FREE!

My Mistletoe Master is a spicy contemporary romance. It’s new adult, BDSM, forbidden romance, second chance, and older brother’s hot best friend all rolled into one holiday-themed novel.

I’m visiting the blog today to drop off an excerpt for My Mistletoe Master, along with a link for you to download it for FREE. (Please note, I’m waiting for Amazon to price match it. It’s currently .99 cent there, but free everywhere else. Hopefully, they will drop it to free soon.)

In addition to My Mistletoe Master, I also have a PNR wolf shifter-fated mate novel that’s FREE! Two free books to start off your reading list this January. You can get it here: get Drew for free!

And I’ve heard you all like contests. Leave me comment and tell me how you celebrate the New Year. One winner will be selected to receive a paperback book. Their choice between the following:

• Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets
• Tails from the Clayridge Fountain
• Drew
• Callum (after it releases in paperback)
• My Mistletoe Master (after it releases in paperback)

My Mistletoe Master

Three years ago, he broke her heart. Now, she’s back in town and he’ll do anything to keep her.

When Nick catches her watching a fetish porno, Amelia isn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t a proposition to indulge her kinky side with her brother’s best friend—the man who destroyed her heart and confidence in one swoop.

Amelia’s three-year absence had taught Nick one thing—he doesn’t want to live without her. Nick isn’t willing to make the same mistake twice. He’ll do whatever it takes to show Amelia he can make her happy, even if that means learning what it takes to keep her satisfied in the bedroom.

Sneaking around during the holidays, Amelia questions if she can move past their history and trust Nick again.

Excerpt

Three years later…

Low keening moans and sharp slaps came from the speakers on her tablet.

Alone yet subtly embarrassed in her parents’ big house, she turned the volume down just a touch.

With her dad at work and her mother and brother recently gone to finish their holiday shopping, the welcome home from university hadn’t been as momentous as she’d expected. She’d been absent for three years, barely coming home between semesters. She had thought some sort of conversation would have at least occurred, not the quick ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ as her family fled the house she had received.

It was a busy time, especially with her parents’ annual holiday party. Besides, they hadn’t expected her home until late afternoon anyway, so who could fault them for rushing out the door as soon as she’d arrived?

Having dumped her stuff in the foyer, she’d proceeded to make herself a cup of tea, then had settled on the couch to check her grades.

No updates.

After scrolling social media, she’d given up trying to find a distraction and, instead, pulled up one of her favorite softcore porn videos. This one featured a Dom, clad in black leather pants and nothing else as he restrained a woman. He raised one arm, then the other, locking them in place above her head with cuffs. Suspended from the ceiling, the man went about binding the woman’s feet to the floor. Naked and spread eagle, she moaned for him. As he slowly raked his hand over here exposed ass, he denied her any form of release.

Growing wet between her legs, Amelia realized it had been too long since she’d had a man. Her body strained for more than her simple touch, but since she and her boyfriend had split two months ago, she would have to make do. To heighten her pleasure, she resisted her own needs, merely watching the two on the screen.

Pressing her palm against her jean-covered crotch, she watched as the woman cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure as the man repeatedly spanked her. Moaning aloud with the video, Amelia abandoned her restraint, rocking against her hand. Her eyes drifted shut as she tugged on the button of her jeans, eager to touch herself and work herself toward climax.

A cough sounded behind her, and she froze. “What a great way to start my morning.”

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. No. No. No.

“Please, Sir,” the woman’s voice rang out from the tablet.

Wide-eyed, Amelia scrambled to shut the device off, finally muting the sound and flipping the cover over the screen.

A key in the front door that she would have heard, but another person already in the house? Damn it!

For a humiliating minute, Amelia prayed the floor would open up and swallow her whole. After three long years, this was not how she had envisioned facing him for the first time.

Frankly, she had planned to wear something sexy and elegant, and she wouldn’t have acknowledged his existence either. Instead, this was what Fate had in store.

Fuck my life.

Clutching her tablet to her chest, Amelia gathered what was left of her courage, standing to face him.

Nick Fuller. Her brother’s best friend and the man she’d been miserably in love with for decades.

From behind her makeshift shield, she studied him. He still took her breath away, even after he’d destroyed her fragile heart. With an unwavering stance, he stood with sleep-tousled hair, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, and blocked her escape. His chest was broad, his stomach chiseled, and his arms corded with long, lean muscles. His expression was dark and confused.

She realized he was waiting for an explanation. Rather than provide one, she led with, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He blinked. “I’m here for the holidays, like every year.”

Amelia groaned. “My mom didn’t tell me you were here yet,” she admitted lamely, as though that explained her sinful behavior. Granted, her mother had barely said two words to her when she arrived.

“Three days.”

At a standstill, they simply stared each other down. His gaze was curious as it examined her.

Her cheeks heated.

How long was he standing there watching me?

Rounding the couch, she wondered how many days she could hide in her room before her parents dragged her out forcibly. With a bit of luck, she could avoid him at least for a few days.

But that was the coward’s way out and she knew it. This year’s plan had centered on pride and confidence, no matter how much she had to fake it.

I guess that plan is out the window now.

Aiming to shoulder her way past him so she could get to the stairs, Amelia put on a brave face and stalked toward him. His big body didn’t budge as she tried to maneuver around him.

Attempting to edge by, she mumbled, “Maybe we could just forget about this. You know, pretend I’m just not here yet.” She tried for a bright smile, but it faded when she saw humor light his gaze. Growing up, he and Gabe had teased her endlessly, and now she’d handed him ammunition.

“I don’t think so,” he took a step closer.

She had to tilt her head to keep his gaze. Rascal that he was, he dared to smile at her discomfort. Her body was primed for the orgasm she’d denied herself and his nearness didn’t help matters. Masculinity and dominance rolled off him in waves. People had always taken notice when he entered a room. He wasn’t the broad and bulky type like her brother; he was lean with a natural grace that made women think: stamina.

“I can’t believe it. I would never have thought Gabe’s little sister was such a perv.”

Convinced he was merely trying to get a rise out of her, her eyes narrowed, and her determination to sock him grew. Casual as you please, she shrugged. “It’s just a little kink.”

His smile widened.

She knew better than to trust that smile.

“You’re not going to tell anyone.” She winced when her words sounded more like a plea than an order.

“What’s my silence worth to you?”

This was the Nick she remembered from her childhood. Rebel, tease…scoundrel.

She ground her teeth and insisted, “You won’t tell.”

“Well, that depends on you, sweetheart,” he whispered. And was it her imagination, or had he gotten closer?

Tonight, my story releases! I’m excited. I hope you all love it. It’s as close to me and where I live as a story can be. The characters are fun and quirky—as they should be. Gurdon’s just down the road, and my father’s family has deep roots there.

Anyway, I hope you pick up a copy. If you like my sense of humor, you should enjoy this book. I’m crossing my fingers you love it. 🙂

A tabloid reporter seeks the truth behind an alien abduction claim made by a woman whose husband disappeared, although the truth may destroy his chances to woo her beautiful daughter…

Pre-order your copy!

Excerpt from Little Green Dreams

Here’s when Sandy realizes Joe’s there as a reporter. She’s sitting at his table in the diner where she works, watching him eat pie. Loy and Coy Nolan are locals and enjoy watching Sandy and Joe’s instant attraction…

Joe Franchetti… With her back to the two Nolans, Sandy tried his name out on her lips while Joe’s attention returned to his pie. Joe Franchetti… The name sounded as dark and exotic as the man looked.

Her gaze flicked over his bent head with avid attraction. Perhaps it was pre-programmed in her DNA, but something about his darkness captivated her. Deep, olive complexion. Dreamy, brown eyes. Dark, wavy, close-cropped hair. Even the hairs on his broad, long-fingered hands and arms fascinated her.

Her eyes crept to the collar of his shirt and the black hair that sprang from the open neck, then journeyed up the strong column of his throat to the wide, firm jaw speckled with the shadow of his afternoon beard.

Definitely not from around here. Too bad he was only passing through.

She wondered at her fascination. Perhaps it was the hint of mystery surrounding him, an air of something dangerous and starkly male. Or maybe she was just bored. But right now, looking at him was a joy. She shivered deliciously.

“You comin’ down with somethin’, Sandy?”

“I’m just fine, Coy, but thanks for askin’,” Sandy said, irritation making her voice a little sharp. That nosy man had probably counted the seconds she’d stared shamelessly at Joe.

With a sigh, Joe pushed away his plate. He looked up and seemed surprised to find her staring, then his gaze shifted beyond her shoulder. The two Nolans must have been staring, too.

Sandy cringed. He must think he’s so far back in the sticks that we don’t have a television to watch for entertainment.

“Sandy, did you know Joe here’s a writer?”

A writer? She stiffened, suspicion pushing away all the melty, mushy feelings she’d had. Sandy’s glance whipped to Joe.

His eyes shuttered. “I’m a science writer,” he said a little too quickly for her liking.

“Oh, yeah?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Which publication?”

“Scientific American,” he countered, not missing a beat. He was a slick operator if she ever saw one.

“See there, Sandy? A patriotic boy,” Coy said.

“He’s here to write an article about the Light,” Loy interjected cheerfully.

“And you just happened to stop at Dee’s Diner as soon as you hit town?” Eyes narrowed, she waited to see whether he’d squirm.

“Dee’s pies are famous,” Coy reminded her.

Sandy’s gaze didn’t waver—she was as patient as a cat waiting for a mouse to show itself. Only Joe Franchetti was a larger, more dangerous sort of rodent. “He’d never even heard about them.”

“Really,” Joe said, raising one hand in the air. “The pie was great.”

Sandy couldn’t help thinking God would strike him dead if he went any further with this charade.

He shrugged and gave her a boyishly sheepish grin. “I’ve been assigned to look into the history and folklore surrounding The Gurdon Light.”

She didn’t believe him for a minute. His handsome face and flirty ways had been trained on her ever since he’d stepped into the diner. “And is there one particular theory that you’re more interested in?” she asked, knowing her tone was downright belligerent but not giving a damn.

“Ah, Sandy, give the man a break,” the younger Loy chided. “Aren’t you bein’ a little hyper-sensitive?”

She shot him a scowl. “Hyper-what? You shouldn’t use such big words, Loy. You’ll get a headache.”

Coy gave a suspicious cough. “Sandy, maybe it’s fate—kismet.”

She looked over her shoulder to glare at Coy. “Kismet, my a—”

“Now, now,” Coy said. “Don’t go losin’ that temper of yours.”

Joe removed a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the table. “Keep the change. Look, I can see you aren’t happy with my being here.” He scooted across the vinyl bench, preparing to leave. “If I could get those directions to the bed and breakfast, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Find your own damn bed,” she said, glaring. Reporters didn’t deserve civility.

Joe raised an eyebrow, but the corners of his sexy mouth quirked. The man was amused by her rage. Grrr.

“Now, hush up, Sandy,” Coy said, his words clipped. “Or I’ll tell your mother how rude you’ve been to a stranger to our town.” He smiled at Joe. “I better draw you a map, Joe. I’ll walk out with you.”

Sandy kept her face averted as Coy slid from his seat. A knot of tension built in her belly. She hated acting like a bitch with anyone. That Coy had felt the need to dress her down made her ashamed.

“I appreciate it, Coy,” Joe said. “Well, it was nice meeting you folks.”

She snorted.

Then, the slithering snake had the gall to include her in the smile he flashed.

Sandy jutted her chin higher and bristled when he chuckled.

“Nice meetin’ you, Joe,” Loy chimed in. “I’ll be seein’ you around. I can point you to the folks you need to talk to about that Light.”

“That’s very kind of you, Loy. I’ll see you soon, Sandy,” Joe said the last softly and then walked away.

Damn, if his voice saying her name didn’t make her toes curl.

“Ooo-wee!” Loy howled once the two men exited the restaurant. “I can see the steam risin’ from your ears. I’m thinkin’ you have an admirer, Sandy-girl.”

Sandy swatted him on the shoulder. “Do us both a favor—don’t think!”

Loy laughed. “I’m outta here. Say goodbye to Dee.”

Sandy stood, starch in her backbone, and began to clear the dishes from the two tables. She refused to give Joe Franchetti the benefit of a single glance as he left the parking lot. Strange, but she knew he was staring at her through the glass. Why else would her clothes suddenly feel tight and her skin flushed?

Of all the rotten luck. Sandy knew just about every man around Clark County, and not a single one had ever left her breathless with just a smile.

Sandy had been pleased when Joe’s gaze had lingered as she’d waited on his table. Her gullibility angered her. At least now, she understood the danger in the air. She just wished she’d used a little more caution and paid attention to the niggling suspicion at the back of her mind.

She’d have to give Joe Franchetti a wide berth, however handsome and fascinating he was—and that was going to be nigh on impossible to do now.

She could just kick herself for suggesting Oralia’s place. All he’d done was smile, and she’d looked into those doe-brown eyes and melted into a puddle of goo. When he’d mentioned needing a hotel, her first instinct had been to blurt out Oralia’s Bed and Breakfast.

The thought raised her temper another notch as she stomped over to the sink with the dishes. That reporter had seduced her with his shiny hair and shiny teeth.

He’d even felt her up when she’d brought him Dee’s special pie—gliding his big, hairy fingers along her arm, making her think how delicious it would feel for his hand to glide along her skin…well, elsewhere. And he’d done it right there in front of God and the two Nolans!

In a heartbeat, Sandra’s anger turned to panic. Sending Joe Franchetti to Oralia’s was a big mistake because her mother was at home—right next door. She had to keep a distance between the two of them. There was no telling what her mother might say.

The last time she’d spoken to a reporter, he’d made her look like a nut. And worse, he’d cast suspicion on her over Bobby’s disappearance.

Pushing through the kitchen door, she spied Dee glossing the tops of a batch of fried pies with a stick of butter.

“Dee, I have to leave early.” Sandra reached for her purse hanging on a hook beside the bathroom. “Something’s come up.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that young man who was just here, would it?” Dee’s eyes teased. “I saw him. Had to get myself a look at whatever had your cheeks glowin’ like ripe peaches. Don’t say as I blame you; he’s a mighty handsome man.”

“I didn’t notice.” Never good at lying, she felt her cheeks burn. “I need to check on Mama,” Sandy said, pretending disinterest while searching her purse for her keys.

“Of course you do.” Dee grinned. “Say hello to Amelia for me.”

“I will. Thanks, Dee. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sandy hurried to her car, muttering to herself. “Great. Why couldn’t I have a normal mother? Why couldn’t she just be waiting for the Lord to call her home? No, not my mama. She’s waitin’ for a phone call from E.T.”

I write young adult clean and wholesome romances and love cute movies that give you a cozy feeling. There’s no better way to take the edge off a rough day than escaping into a sweet holiday setting with a feel-good vibe. Some of these have romance and one is laugh out loud funny. Hope you enjoy my picks. Would love to hear your favorites in the comments.

Christmas Flow: If you liked my pop star romance Cecily Taylor Series, you might enjoy this one with a rapper and writer who embark on a fake relationship after a mishap. They’re complete opposites with him getting in trouble for misogynist lyrics and her working for a feminist blog. It’s a unique take on the opposites attract trope. The lead actress in this was great.

Muppet Christmas Carol: I will forever love this one and watch it every single year. I’m also incapable of saying the word, “mittens,” without singing the line from the movie. Every single song in it is a banger and Rizzo is a national treasure. I like the Dickens story, but this version is the best.

All I Want for Christmas: This one is from the 90s and has Lauren Bacall as the grandmother. Ethan Embry is the lead character who is a kid wishing his divorced parents would get back together. If you love Christmas movies set in the city, then you’ll love this one. It’s set in New York City and has a magical feel.

Christmas in the Wild: Kristen Davis is amazing in this sweet romance about a divorced woman going to Africa on what should have been a trip with her husband only to rediscover herself and her love for animals. Davis does a great job of making you root for her happiness and want to adopt an elephant. Seriously, I was afraid of elephants before this movie and now I’d lay down my life for a baby elephant.

A Castle for Christmas: Brooke Shields is a well-known author who winds up in Scotland after a meltdown during a TV interview. She finds a castle her grandfather used to work in and wants to buy it and there’s a cute enemies- to- lovers trope with the castle owner. This one is worth watching for the cute inn she stays in and overall cozy feel. This one appeals to the romance writer in me. It’s the perfect movie to watch with a hot chocolate and blankie.

A Heavenly Christmas: Kristin Davis again, but this time she’s in limbo (literally) after an accident and she has to work with an angel to bring happiness to a man who is raising his niece after his sister dies. You just want these two to get together so badly and living happily ever after.

Here’s a Christmas party scene from my young adult novel, Cecily in the City, where my main character, Cecily, goes to her pop star boyfriend’s wealthy family’s Christmas party where she feels like a fish out of water and encounters his exes. Cecily in the City won the 2023 Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal Award for Young Adult Romance:

On the day of the party, I was a nervous wreck. I went downstairs and asked my parents if they’d let me take the car to the party.

“I’ll drive you. Partly because I’m nosy and want to see their house up close.” Dad rubbed his hands together.

We headed over to Andrew’s parents’ house. My dad drove me up the circular driveway and I gasped. Andrew’s parents hadn’t just decorated a few trees in the yard—every single evergreen on their lot was lit up and there was a display of cartoon carolers that looked to be six feet tall standing in front of the house.

“Wow, no inflatable snowmen for these guys.” Dad peered out the window. “Cecily, look! Santa is answering the candy door.”

“They have a doorman?”

“No, I mean over in the life-sized gingerbread house. There’s an actual guy over there opening a candy door. It looked like he’s serving hot chocolate. Should I get a to-go cup?” he asked squinting.

“Please don’t. I’m already afraid that security guard over there will ask if I’m lost.”

Dad laughed and told me to call him when I needed a ride home. “And see if they provide doggie bags with tiny quiches and those weird pointy toast things,” he said as I got out of the car.

I took a deep breath as I walked up to the door and said a prayer before ringing the doorbell. A woman answered the door and offered to take my coat. I handed it to her and immediately wanted to grab it back to cover myself because all the women were dressed identically. They all had long turtleneck sweaters that were made of some material way fancier than mine. Meanwhile I was standing there in a V-neck I bought on the clearance rack and that was after I borrowed cash from my mom. And forget regular pants—there were all in velvet or something with tall boots that looked like something out of a horse-riding movie. Oh crap. They all shopped at the same place. My dad’s car payment wasn’t as much as those boots. Actually, our house payment wasn’t either. How did some people have that kind of money to spend on boots?

“Cecily, love, you’re here,” his grandmother said coming over in a wave of perfume. “Now our party is complete. And you brought a gift for the kids. How thoughtful.”

She took the package from me and I explained it was an art set that would be good for a kid between eight to ten.

“It is so important to support the arts,” she said as she placed the box under the world’s biggest Christmas tree. I followed her into the main room expecting to see another big eight-foot tree. Nope, it was even bigger and it was aqua. Where did they even find an aqua colored tree? I was overwhelmed by the expensive leather couches and larger mahogany armoire placed next to a huge stone fireplace.

“Hey Cecily.” Andrew came up and hugged me. “Sorry I didn’t see you come in. One of the little kids spilled their milk and was crying, so I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

So thoughtful. No wonder those girls online attacked me out of jealousy in comments section for being his soulmate in his video. Well, that and the fact he looked like a cologne ad model.

“I feel a bit underdressed,” I said smoothing my hair back.

“Why? You’re wearing the same thing as everyone else,” he said.

Yes, except my outfit was the bargain-basement version. Sort of like how magazines did those stories where they showed two similar outfits and had you guess which one cost twenty-five dollars, and which cost two-thousand dollars and it was always obvious which was which.

“I just feel a bit…out of place.”

“You look amazing as always,” he said and from the way he was smiling at me, I almost believed it. His mother walked over and he introduced me.

“Cecily, what would you like to drink?” she asked. “We have hot chocolate, spiced cider, and—what on earth is she wearing?”

I jumped, but then realized she was staring at someone walking in. Following her gaze, I saw Jeff’s girlfriend, Isla King, walk in wearing a short white leather miniskirt with a tight sparkly red off the shoulder sweater and a Santa hat. She had matching white leather high heeled boots on and you could see the butterfly tattoo on her stomach.

Mrs. Holiday gave a tight smile and smoothed her hair with her hands. “Forgive me, I’m not used to the way you kids dress today.”

“Andrew, be a love and make sure she doesn’t end up in the center when we take a group photo,” she said. She looked over at me. “Was I offering you punch or something? The last few minutes have been a blur.”

I giggled. “I’d love a hot chocolate.”

“There’s my future granddaughter-in-law,” Rev. Holiday said in his booming voice as he walked over to me with Andrew’s father.

Mr. Holiday shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. So happy you could join us, Cecily. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

The way he focused on me when he said it made me feel like he meant it.

“And now you get to meet the girl he’s always talking about,” his grandpa said.

“Grandpa, you’re embarrassing her,” Andrew said.

“Well, Andy, I want to get this locked down because think of how adorable she’d look on the family Christmas card.” Rev. Holiday laughed. “Cecily, we all wear matching sweaters on it each year, and you’d fit right into the family photo.”

“Oh, am I included in that?” Isla asked coming over with her sister, Danielle, who was always trying to Andrew’s attention.

Mr. Holiday’s smile dimmed a few watts. “Hello Isla. Merry Christmas.”

“Cecily’s still around? Wow, good thing I didn’t take bets on that. I would have lost big time,” Danielle said quietly to Isla as if I wasn’t there. Isla’s eyes widened and she mouthed, “Sorry,” at me.

His dad got called away and I was starting to feel more relaxed as Andrew led me into the den. There was a girl sitting in the corner with perfect bouncy brown hair and luminous skin.

Andrew whispered that was his ex, Suki, and I felt my adrenaline spike. She smiled as we walked in, but her eyes didn’t reflect it. The worst part was that she was sitting there like she belonged and I was the outsider. Andrew introduced us and she nodded as she gave me the once-over.

“Andrew, didn’t you get Cecily anything to drink?” Suki asked in a way that implied he didn’t care enough to make sure I didn’t dehydrate and die.

“My mom’s getting her something.”

“Always passing the responsibility—as usual,” she said kicking him lightly with her expensive looking high-heeled boot.

I knew the, “as usual,” part was to show she had known him longer than me. Being around someone’s ex is always an uncomfortable situation, but it was extra cringe-y now that I knew how close they had been. Mrs. Holiday came in with my hot chocolate, and I wanted to ask her how she could expect me to stay in the same room as his ex, but of course, I just thanked her and sipped at it while trying not to get whipped cream all over my face.

“What did Andrew get you for Christmas, Cecily?” Suki asked.

Way to get right to it.

“We haven’t exchanged gifts yet, nosy,” he said.

“Just wanted to see if you recycle gift ideas,” she said smirking. “Last year he got me an initial necklace.”

I gave a disinterested nod and pretended my hot chocolate cup was the most fascinating thing in the room.

“With his initial on it,” she said with big smile.

It took everything in me not to toss my hot chocolate on her blue-gray cashmere sweater that perfectly matched her eyes. She probably put that necklace around a tiny Andrew doll at her house with candles around it and a bunch of photos of him tacked to the wall like a creepy stalker.

Find the book here. It’s free in Kindle Unlimited:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon CAN: https://www.amazon.ca/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK
Amazon AUS: https://www.amazon.com.au/Cecily-City-Taylor-Book-ebook/dp/B0B35LSJRK

About the Author

Krysten Lindsay Hager is a bestselling author of YA romances that make you laugh, cry, and swoon.

Website: https://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@krystenlindsay

I’ve always loved Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s bold minimalism style since I was a teenager, and I love how it’s become popular on TikTok and YouTube. In fact, there’s even a new book out about her style. Back in the day, Carolyn Bessette Kennedy was talked about in every major fashion magazine. Notice I don’t say, “interviewed,” or even, “on the cover.” That’s because she didn’t do interviews, cover shoots, or editorials. She worked in fashion and was also a fashion muse and inspiration, and what’s great about her style is how timeless yet modern it is, even though the photos are from the nineties.

Carolyn wasn’t plastered all over the media due to her seeking attention, but rather the fact people couldn’t help but to pay attention to her. It was refreshing then and even more so now as you see people hiring companies that generate articles about up-and-coming celebrities just to get them more attention.

I liked Carolyn’s modern, streamlined style, but I also admired how she conducted herself in public even more. There was a mystery to her that has become even more intriguing in the last few years as there’s very little mystery left to celebrities in the modern world. So, it makes sense that she inspired me years ago when I wrote a short story for my creative writing class in college. I wrote a story called “True Grit Need Not Apply,” about a teen girl dating the son of a popular senator and how they were opposites. I imagined a girl named Emme Trybus who had a bit more of a boho streak than Carolyn (although in the scene below I do reference the exact lip color she used to wear because I tracked it down back in the day—haha), but is thrust into a high-profile lifestyle due to who she was dating.

I wondered how Carolyn dealt with that high-profile life that came with photographers, gossip, and constant judgment. I found it fascinating how she was able to navigate through such a chaotic life. However, in my story, I made the couple teens and gave them different issues (trying to figure out what they want to do after high school, finding their path, and they both have grandparents dealing with health issues.)

My professor gave me great feedback and said it had vibes of Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger, which I hadn’t read at the time but was thrilled to hear. After the semester ended, one of my critique group members, David, told me it was his favorite story of mine, and I should develop it into a novel. I began working on it, but it sat for quite some time due to the fact that I ended up working as a freelance journalist while going to grad school, then getting married, moving overseas, etc. When I came back to it years later, I felt like no time had passes as I was instantly drawn back into Emme and Brendon’s world where they’re falling in love despite being from different backgrounds. I titled it, Dating the It Guy. and was fortunate to get a publishing contract for it.

Last year, I rereleased Dating the It Guy with updates and a new epilogue to show you what happened to the two high schoolers after they graduate from college. I guess I wanted to give them the happily ever after I only wish Carolyn and John could have had.

Excerpt from Dating the It Guy

The next day, I woke with this weird feeling my laptop was going to act up. In fact, when I checked my e-mail in the morning, I was kind of surprised it switched on at all. I figured I was just being paranoid about not getting my rough draft done, or maybe it was because the planet Mercury was in retrograde, but I tried to ignore my feelings. We had the day off from class, so I didn’t start working on my paper until later in the evening. I had just started typing when my screen froze. Feeling panicked, I hit Control-Alt-Delete and restarted the laptop, but the screen went blue and started flickering. What was it doing, and why was there a little gray box on my computer telling me I had sixty seconds until it shut down? Fifty-nine…fifty-eight…fifty-seven… This was just like the episode of As My Children Wept where Samson had to stop the bomb hidden in Sierra and Aristotle’s wedding cake. Did it mean the laptop was going to blow? On the show, the cake blew up, and everybody thought Aristotle was dead…well, until he showed up at Sierra’s next wedding, and was Sierra’s new husband mad…probably just as mad as Mrs. Rae would be when I didn’t turn in my assignment.

“Mo-om! My laptop’s possessed. Fix it!”

“Why don’t you just ask me to get out my fairy princess wand and throw pixie dust on it,” she shot back. “I’d have better luck with that.”

Sarcasm was not cute when you were having a crisis. I tried calling Zach, but his mom said he was working late. I was desperate, so I asked his mom if she knew anything about computers.

“There’s a guy at Mary’s Little RAMs who works on mine. I could give you his number, but they closed at five tonight.”

I hung up defeated. I didn’t know anybody who knew a thing about computers. Oh crap. I did know somebody who knew about computers. Brendon. He had mentioned he took a computer class last semester, but could I call him? Usually, I’d have no problem calling a guy for something, but this wasn’t a normal guy. He was what Margaux would call a “Hottie McHotHot.” Okay, what was wrong with me? He was just a regular person like everybody else. He put his pants on one leg at a time and went to the toilet like everybody else…but I bet his bathroom was super clean and everything in it matched. I pictured the whole room done in some manly, rich-person color like “hunter green” or “maroon.” And there would be lots of dark mahogany—

“Emme? Do you want to use my laptop to work on your paper?” Mom yelled up the stairs.

“It won’t help,” I replied. “I saved it on the hard drive because I’m a loser.”

Freaking Mercury retrograde. I should have known better than to expect a computer to work right. I should have backed up my work or e-mailed it to myself, but no, I was too worried about ordering new lip gloss from Lickity Lips. Now I had no paper, no gloss, and probably after I called Brendon begging him for help, no pride. I called and left a message on Brendon’s phone saying I had a computer questions. He was probably out with some amazing prelaw, premed student who donated blood to anemic puppies and did puppet shows for the elderly while knitting booties for—

My phone buzzed, and Brendon’s name popped up on the screen.

Brendon: Hey, what’s up?

I wrote back and explained about my computer, and he started giving me suggestions, which would have been helpful if I had known what he was talking about. It was like he was typing in Aramaic. He offered to come over, and I went to fix my hair the second I put down the phone. Normally I didn’t do much with my hair. It was long and always seemed messy no matter what I did with it. Kylie always said it was tousled like something out of a magazine, and yeah, sometimes I agreed with her and even loved my hair…and other times I feel like strangers on the street were going to walk up and hand me a hairbrush. My hair had been in a ponytail all night, so I couldn’t wear it down because it had a ponytail holder crease. I wound it into a loose bun and put on my ruby lip stain. I was digging through my hamper for my cutest top when the doorbell rang. I threw it on and ran down the stairs.

“Hey, thanks for coming over,” I said as I answered the door. I told him my laptop was upstairs, and I felt weird, like I was trying to lure him into my bedroom or something. He followed me, and I realized I should have made sure my dirty underpants weren’t half hanging out of my hamper when I shut it. Of course, it wasn’t a cute pair, but the big momma pants. Why didn’t I just wear Little Bo Peep pantaloons?

“See, it does this weird countdown thing when I turn it on,” I said. He sat at my desk and started messing with my laptop while I sat on the bed. I wondered if he washed his hands or used some hand sanitizer because I had this strict “clean hands” policy about my keyboard. I mean, I heard on the news those keyboards were playgrounds for bacteria.

“It’s probably because Mercury is in retrograde,” I said. He stared at me as if I had said, “I was sacrificing a goat in here before you came in, please excuse the stains on my ceremonial robe.” I tried to explain. “It’s the planet that rules communication—never mind. Do you think you can fix it?”

“Not sure yet,” he said. “I think I can retrieve your paper though. Do you have someplace else to finish it if I can’t get this computer to work?”

I started to answer when he said he had brought his laptop over for me to use while he worked on my computer. So I could either go downstairs and type on my mother’s boring laptop and leave Mr. Hotness alone in my bedroom, or I could stay here and work on it while we were in my room. Together. Alone. In my room. I loved the planet Mercury.

Find Dating the It Guy here. It’s free in Kindle Unlimited:
https://www.amazon.com/Dating-Guy-Krysten-Lindsay-Hager-ebook/dp/B09Y2RFRM7

About ​Krysten Lindsay Hager

Who knew all those embarrassing, cringe-y moments in middle school and high school could turn into a career? And who would have thought that daydreaming in math class would pay off down the road?

​Krysten Lindsay Hager writes for teens and tweens about friendship, self-esteem, fitting in, frenemies, crushes, fame, first loves, and values. She is the author of Cecily Taylor Series, the Star Series, and the Landry’s True Colors Series.

Website: https://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
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