Happy New Year to you all from Melbourne, Australia, and thanks to Delilah Devlin for hosting my blog.
What’s your favourite time of year? Is it Christmas? Your birthday?
For me, it’s the beginning of a new year. It starts with the magical build-up to midnight that will farewell the old and greet the new. My lovely husband and I get together with my cousin’s family for a night full of excitement and noise. Our lively conversation during dinner centers around the year that has been and what we hope is to come. It transitions into a games night and our competitive spirits come out to play. The husbands get a little merry, the volume increases and there’s always a side-splitting moment that will become folklore for the years ahead.
Somewhere between ten and eleven, a lull settles over the room. There are yawns and regular clock checking. Then a welcomed snack and refreshment interlude revives us for what is left of the countdown.
During those dozen or so precious minutes, as the celebrations peak, we head outside for the festive, 360-degree fireworks, and it’s then that my reflection time begins. I relish the good that has evolved during the year and let go of the bad. I shed a tear for those I’m leaving behind and feel that glorious tingle for the possibilities that lay ahead.
After the cheers fade and the hugs are distributed, our short drive home is consumed by Christmas lights and a call to more family for New Year’s greetings.
At a more reasonable hour on the first of January, the organized Libran in me gets to work. I pull out the latest purchase that’s going to take control of my world and keep me balanced. It’s amazing to think how much stock we put into the idea of an inanimate object changing our life. What is yours?
Barista hubby would tell you that for him, it’s the coffee machine I gave him as an early Christmas present. After keeping me caffeinated all year, he deserved an upgrade.
But for me, it’s all about my new, glossy day planner. Who doesn’t love a brand-new piece of stationery? With meticulous thought, I write my goals, the steps I need to take and the words of motivation that will keep me focused throughout the year. I fill it with tasks for that all important first month that will set the tone for the year. And I’ve got big plans for 2022.
In 2021 I published my first hot contemporary romance novel on Amazon Kindle. The Cop was mostly written during Melbourne’s sixth lockdown (Yes, that’s right! The most locked down city in the world. Bah!)
The Cop focuses on the chemistry between a sexy as sin cop, Kane Browne and Jess, a woman who is battling self-confidence issues due to an illness. Kane’s selfless nature is put to the test when a possible promotion to Sergeant would see him moving to a rural town, three hours away. There’s also the issue of the three younger brothers, Kane and his next in line sibling had to raise due to the passing of their parents. Just as Kane has everything under control, the unthinkable happens which has him questioning everything he knew about himself.
This novel is not only about love, delicious sex scenes and a happily ever after. It’s also about resilience, overcoming adversities and the importance of family. And for Kane, it’s about the ultimate test of selfless versus selfish.
It is the first in a series featuring the Browne brothers and I‘ve already begun work on the second novel. Although I am prepared for the battle between working twenty-five hours a week at an office job (dealing mostly with figures), writing and maintaining housework and a husband (wink).
Publishing a novel was a dream that was a long time in the making, mostly from a lack of hard work and dedication. Over the past decade, I’d started and stopped so many times, it’s embarrassing. But being open and honest about failures is part and parcel of life. It’s how you grow or so I’ve been led to believe.
So, what changed, I hear you ask. The blunt answer is the passing of my father.
My Dad, Kevin was diagnosed with Leukemia at the start of 2019, after previously beating lymphoma a year or so earlier. As you can imagine, writing was an outlet for expressing my feelings and it served as a distraction from his fight. I told myself that if he’s strong enough for his battle than surely, I could match him with dedication and finally finish something I’d wanted to achieve for the majority of my life. Although, it should be noted the novel I was working on at the time, isn’t quite finished yet. The characters need a little more development. But I’ve promised them they won’t be left on the shelf for too long.
Unfortunately, Dad lost his battle in August 2020, but it fueled my desire and need to write more than ever before. I came up with the idea for The Cop in the middle of 2021, got to work and never looked back. Three beta readers gave me both good and constructive feedback. I tweaked and re-wrote some scenes until here I am, a smile of accomplishment on my face and a self-published novel to show for my efforts.
I like to think my father’s battle and his subsequent passing weren’t in vain. I like to think he gave me the desire. That sink or swim moment I needed to pursue and conquer the dream I’ve had since I was a naive fifteen-year-old who thought writing would be all about the glory and less about the hard work and dedication it requires.
So, now what’s going to drive me? My characters, of course. They’re all in my head, ready to burst out onto a fresh, white blank computer screen. The plotline for the next Browne brother’s chance at love has my fingers itching to hit the keyboard. I’m ready for the challenge of completing a second novel. And then a third. The prospect is exciting.
Whatever it is you’re planning for 2022, I wish you joy, health and happiness. I wish you nothing but success. And I’d love to hear about your plans, your life changing inanimate object or anything else you’d like to share.
The Cop
Kane Browne is a sexy as sin cop who is used to accommodating everyone else’s needs before his own.
Cue Jess Frost, the gorgeous woman with a sharp tongue and eyes like the ocean.
From their first roadside interaction, sparks fly but an illness has robbed Jess of her self-confidence and Kane needs to convince her he’s worth taking a chance on.
This sexy, contemporary romance is a little sweet, a little naughty and comes with a side of handcuffs and a HEA (happily ever after). First book in a series, featuring five very different brothers.
The Cop is now available in paperback and e-book formats on Amazon.
Hello all! My name is Jaiyde Thomas, and I am an indie author of mm romance. I love books with lots of angst, a character-driven plot, and of course, lots and lots of sex or BDSM scenes. My favorite romance tropes are hurt/comfort and first-time gay, and I’m a sucker for happily-ever-afters. What I wish to see more in fiction, whether it be TV or books, are disabled characters.
I have been blind since birth. I was told that because I was born premature (1lb. 6oz.), I was placed into an incubator to help with my growth and development. Too much oxygen to my brain led to my cause of blindness, retinopathy of prematurity, which is an eye disease that causes abnormal blood vessels to grow in the retina in premature babies. I was in the hospital for two months before my mother was allowed to take me home. At some point, I was also diagnosed with glaucoma, which is increased pressure in the eyeball that causes vision loss.
Being blind had its challenges and its advantages. As a young child, I had moments of doubt because of my disability, and I felt I was different when I was around sighted peers or family. I had many passions as a young girl that kept me feeling normal, and one of them was reading. The Library for the Blind would send me stacks of books, and I would sit on the floor and devour all that I could. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even take off my shoes after school, or I’d be late for dinner, my Granny having to call me multiple times before I understood: stop reading and come eat. Then, I was allowed one day to bring a Braillewriter home from school, and that started my writing journey.
I won’t bore you with my entire life story, but I started writing songs and short stories at around age nine. Then, in seventh grade, I decided to write my first story about a teenage pregnancy. When I became bored with that, I wrote a seven-story series based off my own experiences in high school. In one of them, the main character is blind for a few months, but regains her sight soon after. I wanted her to deal with what I was in real life.
In 2020, under my other pen name, Kelanie Black, I created The Red Lair book series. The focus for this was to show that disabled people, such as the blind, could explore BDSM just like sighted people. Each book had one or two blind characters, each dealing with their exploration of the lifestyle and disability in a different way. After the series was completed, I had decided to try my hand at a new genre: mm romance.
A question online made me push forward writing disabled characters. I will address it below:
Why do you always write about blind people?
Firstly, I don’t believe that we as disabled persons get enough recognition. In TV shows and movies, there are some, but they only have a small role where they are seen and forgotten about, or the disabilities are portrayed inaccurately. I haven’t read a book that includes sex and disabled characters, but I’m sure they’re out there.
Secondly, BDSM is stigmatized just like blind people having sex. People think that because we are blind that someone has to help us all the time and watch over us 24/7. That’s far from the truth! I know many blind people who enjoy sex and BDSM and don’t have a sighted person with them to guide them. We are just normal people, we just do things a bit differently, and we may need accommodations to do them, but we still get things done.
Finally, I write about blind people exploring the BDSM lifestyle so that I can educate others. If you aren’t blind, you wouldn’t know what the day-to-day experience of a disabled person is like. I encourage questions, comments, and even feedback regarding blindness, BDSM, accessibility, because how will you learn if you don’t ask?
Thank you so much for having me! I will post my socials below, and please feel free to follow, friend, and PM me with anything of interest that catches your eye from this post or questions.
This post is a duplicate of the one I put up on the Collections website today. I didn’t have a guest here and was feeling a little lazy—plus, I love to introduce new authors to you all. Be sure to welcome Izzy and take advantage of her special offer!
Good things come to those who wait?
I’ve been writing for years—familiar story—without thinking about a next step! They say, write what you want to read. I write stories about love, lust, romance, relationships, and am now just realizing, hey, someone else might enjoy these suckers. Being a fan of Delilah’s racy romances, I’m over-joyed for Izzy’s debut in the Cowboys Behaving Badly Anthology. I hope you love Deacon in “Something to Talk About” as much as I do, and please reach out if you’d like more of my strong, silent, hunky cowboy! My brand-spanking-new website went live today. Come find me!
About Izzy…
Izzy Archer is my pen name… shhhh. She’s badass.
I discovered my love for erotic romance in a writing course: How to Write SEX. I’m currently working on a collection of erotic short stories revised from my old homework assignments.
Paris is my favorite city and will definitely factor into future stories!
I recently moved into an old Victorian in the Boston area, so it’s a good thing I’m handy, own power tools, and can fix things. Although, this place is over my skill level. But what’s more inspiring to a romance writer than crews of interesting workers coming and going? Everyone has a backstory!
I turned into a wine snob from living in California. Reds from boutique vineyards. My favorite kind of day is wine tasting while taking in a view of the mountains.
I believe in true love, soul mates, and the destiny we make. I create strong female characters. Don’t get me wrong, I love an alpha male. But, if there’s rescuing to be done, she’s fully capable.
My stories will always have a happy ending. Otherwise, what’s the point?
I believe good things can come at any time! And if you’re willing to wait until late winter/early spring, I’d love to send you a freebie of my story collection when it’s out! Sign up on my new—as in HITTING-THE-LIVE-BUTTON on 12.30.21 (TODAY!)—website newsletter list. The Mailing List link is on my Contact page. Mention Delilah or Cowboys, and I will send you a book in 2022! Find the link here: Izzyarcher.com
Cafe Paris is for Lovers
SNEAK PEEK from short story, Prêt-à-porter (Ready to Wear) inside Cafe Paris is for Lovers…
Caroline, in Paris for Fashion Week, meets her longtime lover at a café in Le Marais, where he has arranged a special lunch for her…
Caroline wove her way through the outdoor seating of tiny marble-topped tables and caned-back chairs to the inside warmth of the cafe. She inhaled the smell of fresh bread and dark roasted coffee.
“Jean Claude, you waited for me.”
“Caroline, pas du problem. I’d wait a thousand years for you.” Jean Claude stood immediately and discarded the paper on the chair. He kissed her on each cheek, Parisian-style, right-left-right, and then they embraced. Tight at first, like old friends. When his hand lingered around her waist, his lips grazing her neck, Caroline smiled to herself. Only a tourist would think we were just friends.
About the Author
Izzy Archer writes erotic romance with a pen in one hand and a glass of Casamigos Reposado in the other. On the rocks, with a twist of lime. She has a fondness for both cowboys and cowboy boots. Not always in that order. Find out more about Izzy at IzzyArcher.com!
When I started writing The Fourth State of Matter, I intended for it to be a poly relationship between a human and two alien characters. However, as I was coming up with the characters I ran into a problem. I couldn’t decide how to design the aliens.
My writing process is usually to start by drawing the characters first. If I can draw them that means I can envision them clearly enough to write about them. I went through several different designs for the aliens, and eventually whittled it down to three different ones.
Then, as I was debating which of the three designs to discard, a thought occurred to me. Why do I have to choose at all?
And so, my ménage à trois became a ménage à quatre.
The Fourth State of Matter is a story that explores the intricacies of an atypical relationship. These characters proudly rebel against the norm, but that doesn’t mean they are free from conflict. There is plenty of drama to be found, both internally and externally. From personal conflicts of self-worth to government agents trying to split our main characters apart, this story features a little of everything.
Between these pages you’ll also find a great sci-fi story, steamy foursome sex scenes between a human and his three alien lovers, and a psychological exploration of what it means to be human. If any of this sounds like your cup of tea, then check out The Fourth State of Matter.
The Fourth State of Matter
Earth is dead. Humanity survives by selling the only resource available—themselves. 2689 has signed away his rights as a living being and become décor, living artwork that rich aliens use to decorate their homes. It’s a stable existence but a boring one. Until one day his owner plays host to three unexpected guests. Large, loud, and more potent than anything 2689 has ever experienced, this trio of ship-dwellers from the wrong side of the universe awakens a desire he can’t ignore.
However, blissful days of sex and companionship with Brog, Desmodian, and Xavis come to an end when 2689 discovers a plot that could land the trio in jail…or worse. 2689 will have to make a choice—stay silent and allow three innocent lives to be ruined or give up his stable life to protect the ones he loves.
I have an admission to make—I was never a fan of instalove. I mean, how do two people meet and just, like, know? To me, love takes time. Time to get to know the other person. Time to figure out if you’re compatible with them. Time to sort through all the baggage you both are carrying. (Because you don’t get to my age without some serious baggage…)
Maybe I’m showing my age.
When I sit down and put pen to paper, though, logic and common-sense fly right out the window. Of course, my couples are going to meet and know. Of course, everything is going to go right. Of course, there’s going to be a dark moment of the soul when all looks lost. Of course, they’re going to wind up together.
Now, in my mind, these progressions happen gradually. There might be attraction, but the characters have to work through their deep emotional wounds before they can find their happily ever after. And I do love to make my characters suffer. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Make that happen. Think things can’t get worse? They can. But I’m always working toward the happily ever after.
Up until this latest release, all my stories were novellas. Longer than a short story. Shorter than a novel. A nice in-between place. The problem? Between the emotional wounds and the action of the tale, that’s a lot of story to fit into a tight package. Readers have assured me I’ve done it well. Reviewers have decried “instalove”.
Ginger Snapping All the Way was supposed to be different. It’s my first full-length gay romance. The plan was for it to be a novella, but the story quickly got away from me, and writing long was my only option. I don’t regret it. I love this book. I believed since the book was longer, I could avoid some of the instalove criticism. Except, it’s not the length of the story, but the length of the time the characters are together that determines instalove. Yes, Maddox and Ravi are only together three days before they figure it out. They know. And yeah, that makes it instalove.
So, heap on the criticism. Decry that it’s not realistic. I’ll stand by my story. These guys fought hard to be in a place to accept love. Love that is freely given. Love with no expectations. A true happily ever after.
And, of course, a cute dog.
I would love to know what you think about instalove. Drop me a comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon GC.
Ginger Snapping All the Way
Maddox
I’m not a fan of Christmas. I’m happy to stay up in my mountain cabin and let the silly season pass me by. But when a friend asks for a favor, I can’t say no. Now I’m stuck in my cabin during a snowstorm, trapped with the most beautiful man I’ve ever met—who can’t wait to get away. He just might break my heart when he goes.
Ravi
I’m racing to get home for the birth of my goddaughter when mechanical troubles force my plane’s emergency landing. There are no beds at the inn due to a horrendous storm, but a friend says she knows a guy who won’t mind putting me up until the bad weather passes. Now I’m trapped with that man, and I must decide if I stay, hiding from the rest of the world, or go and face my past to earn a shot at my happily ever after.
This is a 72k word, hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.
He grinned. “Take fifteen.” He headed to the bathroom while I detoured to the walk-in closet to snag my terry towel bathrobe, and then I shoved my feet into my faux sheepskin lined leather slippers—a gift from Hillary. I’d be chilly by the time Princess did her job, but Ravi’d warm me up right quick. I opened the door to find my pooch planted at the door, tapping her metaphorical paw.
She’d obviously heard voices and decided she’d been patient long enough.
I ruffled the fur on the top of her heard and she gave me the stink eye. Ah, so all was not forgiven. Hard to say whether the bribery bone was going to get me back into her good books.
She followed me as I headed down the stairs, flipping on lights as I went.
Her nails clacked on the hardwood floor.
Time to trim them again.
One of the few things I didn’t enjoy as her owner. The thought of cutting her to the quick terrified me, but the alternative was going into town to the groomer’s and that was too much peopling for me.
Man, I really had to re-examine my life. If taking care of Sofia meant going into town, I should make the effort. She was probably due for some shots as well. I’d call Dr. Zephyra’s vet clinic and make an appointment for her. I opened the back door and was hit with a blast of frigid air.
Sofia balked.
I nudged her gently with my toe.
She glared.
I pointed.
She shrugged. And finally stepped out.
The nice square I’d cleared yesterday had almost another foot. All while we’d slept. Uh, thank you, universe. This meant I’d get my delicious gorgeous man for another day. Yum. I had plans. So many plans.
My stomach rumbled. I considered. Okay, yeah, dinner’d been about eleven hours ago. But I didn’t want to stop for food. I didn’t want to stop for anything. Princess Sofia finally squatted, and I did an inner cheer. My legs were turning into ice as she deigned to do her business. And with all the snow that’d accumulated against her belly, I now needed to grab a towel. More time. It would take more time to dry her off, and I needed more time with Ravi. Was I allowed to hope the snow never stopped?
Sofia tried to dodge around my legs, but I was quicker. I halted her progress and kept one hand clutching her collar while the other closed and locked the door. I snagged her towel, and she gave me a baleful look. Seriously? If someone offered to rub me down and I was wet, I certainly wouldn’t complain. Especially if that someone had tan skin, deep dark-brown eyes, and a killer smile.
My cock sat up and took notice at that thought. Sighing, I wrapped Sofia in the towel and rubbed vigorously, all the while thinking of other things I’d love to rub. When she was drier, I put her down.
She bolted for her bowl and nosed her very expensive kibble. And gave me that look.
I swear to God, the dog was psychic. Or I’d given in to her demands once too often—I wasn’t sure which. I moved to the cupboard and pulled down the very expensive wet food. And cursed. I hadn’t brushed her teeth the last two nights. After a very expensive dental bill, I’d decided I’d rather brush her teeth every night than lose another thousand bucks. It’d also cost her three teeth. That was really the determining factor.
And she didn’t really fight anymore. She just liked to put on a good show.
Sighing, I dumped the food into a bowl and separated it into Sofia-appropriate sized bites. I barely put the bowl on the floor before she’d scarfed most of it down. No delicacy here—she ate like a starving wolf after a long winter. Or like she hadn’t been fed for a month. Sheesh.
Hot chocolate. And ginger snap cookies.
I pulled the milk from the fridge, then grabbed two mugs. It took entirely too long to prepare two mugs, but in the meantime, I grabbed a sandwich bag and added four cookies. I’d prefer presenting the cookies on a nice plate Hillary had insisted on giving me—because she insisted I would eventually have company—but two mugs and a plate was just too much to carry. I doubted Ravi’d care how I presented the cookies.
I snagged Sofia’s wet-food bowl off the floor and put it into the dishwasher. Then I selected a small frozen soup bone for her.
Her eyes lit with glee—a double treat.
Enjoy it, pooch.
Not going to happen again any time soon.
Unless Ravi stays…
Nope, not going there.
I held out the bone, and she angled her head to grab it with her little teeth.
She made a beeline to her bed in front of the fireplace. She dropped the bone and sniffed it, clearly trying to decide the best way to approach this.
About the Author
Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.
I love this time of year—the music, the colored lights, the tree, the holiday movies, and the excitement. Like most families, we have various traditions that have changed or evolved over the years. But one tradition that never changes is my mother’s fruit cake.
Yes, I said it. Fruit cake. We’re big on this holiday staple in my family and all of us would feel slighted if our mother didn’t make us one of her amazing cakes. Heck, when I was a kid, I used to ask for one for my birthday every year. Mom would make a fruit cake for the family celebration and a chocolate one for the party with my friends. I don’t know what makes hers so special. Maybe it’s the rum, maybe it’s the love. All I know is Christmas wouldn’t be the same without it.
Another tradition is chocolate fudge, but not just any fudge. I use the same recipe my mother used when I was a kid. It’s fast and delicious.
Five Minute Fudge (From the Carnation Milk Cookbook)
2/3 cup of Carnation milk
1 2/3 cups of sugar
~Bring sugar and milk to a boil and boil on low heat for 5 minutes. Stir constantly. Remove from heat.
Add:
1 ½ cups chocolate chips (I use semi-sweet dark chips)
1 ½ cups of plain mini marshmallows (I use Kraft minis)
1 tsp of vanilla flavouring
Stir until smooth and pour into greased 8” X 8” pan.
Cool and cut into squares.
And if you’re looking for a calorie-free treat to help get you through the season, be sure to check out WOLF IN THE WOODS, book 1 of the Salvation Pack: The Next Generation series.
Wolf in the Woods
Salvation Pack: The Next Generation, Book 1
Not wanting to be forced to mate to an eligible male in her pack who won’t take no for an answer, Addie Fuller is on the run.
Billy Gallagher might be human, but he understands werewolf culture all too well after being raised in the Salvation Pack.
When their paths cross, he helps her, even knowing it will likely mean his death. He’s no match for a full-blooded male wolf. A short, brutal fight, leaves him near death and Addie fighting to save his life.
He recovers, but he’s not the same man he was. The one thing he does know for sure—he and Addie are meant to be together. All he has to do is convince her of that and deal with the threat looming over them.
Snippet from Wolf in the Woods…
Spellbound, he watched her morph from tall, gorgeous, brave woman to multihued, sleek, powerful wolf. Her body contorted—bones reshaping, forehead flattening, and jaw elongating.
It was pure magic.
She growled, prepared to fight, but it was an uneven battle, lost before it even began. Two full-blooded werewolf males against a female werewolf and a human? Yeah, the odds weren’t in their favor.
*~*~*
Want to read more? Click on one of the links below.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
It’s all about the giving and not receiving, right? Unfortunately, some people missed the message and transform what should be a fun and caring activity until one of dread, disappointment, and even hostility. I’ll start this post with a story. Let me know in the comment section below if you can relate.
Several years ago, the place where I was employed used to have a Christmas “party.” At this point, I feel that I need to stop and make my first group of disclaimers. First, the reason it was called a Christmas party was because all the workers in the building only celebrated Christmas (a.k.a., no Hannukah, Kwanzaa, etc.), which says something about the diversity of the workplace. No one objected to Christian activities that occurred at this event. If an employee did, indeed, celebrate another holiday or tradition during this time of year, they never discussed or acknowledged it with the majority of the other staff.
Second, when many people think of a holiday work party, many assume an afterhours event that employees bring a spouse or significant other. It would be a time for employees to let their hair down and socialize with dancing, catered food, adult beverages, and party clothes. However, that was not the type of party this was. The “party” that I’m referring to was really nothing more than an hour-long potluck lunch during most employees’ usual lunch break. There were few decorations, no music, and no adult beverages. The party began with everyone gathering for a group prayer over the meal, preparing their plate buffet-style, and then finding a place to eat in the small lunch area, conference room, or their office. During this time, the phones continued to have to be answered and business conducted. Thus, calling it a “party” is really an injustice.
When I first transferred to the building, which was comprised of multiple departments, the Christmas party also included playing Dirty Santa. I had no idea how this game was played and have later learned that there are many names and variation of rules. In a nutshell, the rules were that each employee would purchase a gift with a maximum value of $15.00 (later raised to $25.00). All gifts would be wrapped with no nametag and placed in a pile on a table. Each employee would select a number from a bowl to determine the order of which they would be allowed to pick a present. They would then unwrap the present for everyone to see. The players following had the option to either select a gift from the pile or “steal” (a.k.a., take) a gift that had previously been opened. The same gift could only be “stolen” twice before it was retired. Sounds fun, right? Well, it was—kinda—until Scrooge hit the scene.
Some of the problems were as followed. First, the departments had far more women employees than men employees. Many gifts purchased were gender-specific gifts, meaning usually male staff ended up with a gift they didn’t want or couldn’t use. Second, some employees were too lazy to put effort into purchasing an actual gift. They elected to purchase gift cards, and the game result in being a gift card exchange ceremony. Maybe it would have been slightly exciting if the gift cards had been from a variety of stores, but most were from Walmart. Those who were even too lazy to buy a gift card just put money in an envelope. And while I understand that many people appreciate cash as a gift, what is the point of playing a gift-giving game if it’s just swapping the same amount of cash? Is four fives better than two tens or one twenty? But the worst offense was that people complained about the gifts they selected as being cheap. (Remember, there was a maximum limit set.) They would argue that they had spent the full $15.00, and they only got a $10.00. One worker complained that she knew her Bath & Body Works shower gel, lotion, and body spray would have been worth $25.00 if sold at regular price but had been on sale but only $9.00 plus tax had been spent. They felt shorted because the gift purchaser hadn’t come out of pocket for the maximum amount. Yet, other contested the actual value of the gift that had been purchased, which resulted in hurt feelings from gift buyers. Needless to say, employees slowly began opting out of participating. Others resorted to leaving the price tags on the gifts to prove the value of the gift. This led to complaints of “tackiness.”
When I began writing this article, I couldn’t refrain from contacting a close friend who for many years has suffered from extreme holiday anxiety. At first, it may sound trivial, but anything that leaves a person close to your heart in tears and pacing the floor endlessly is not something that is easily overlooked. Her complaint is finding appropriate gifts for family members. Now, many people encounter this problem, and surely it isn’t something that leads to a trip to a therapist. However, her situation goes beyond this. Like many other people, she has a tight budget for purchasing gifts. To avoid too much holiday debt, she makes purchases throughout the year and sets them aside when she comes across a good deal. And when Black Friday approaches, she hits the sales for the best bargain. She legitimately spends hours considering and planning what to purchase for each person on her list to try in earnest to buy the perfect gift at a price she can afford. Only to, too often, find that her time and effort is met without appreciation.
To make matters worse, she purchases gifts for each person and is given a family gift in return. For example, she purchases individual gifts for her brother, his wife, and all five of their children, making a total of seven gifts. If she spends $20.00 per gift per person, that nearly $150.00 with tax. This can get expensive, especially when she has four brothers, four sisters-in-laws, and seventeen nephew and nieces. In return, she receives one gift from her brother in her family with a value of possible $10.00. Now, the value of her gift has never been a huge concern for her, and she isn’t concerned with quid pro quo. However, what has bothered her greatly is that gifts from her family feels like an afterthought. For example, several years ago, she was gifted stationary. Anyone who knows her is aware that she has not used stationary since high school over twenty years ago. Yet, stationary in and of itself on the surface does not seem like a terrible gift. However, had any of her family ever listened to her, they would have heard her express on multiple occasions of how she desperately was attempting to find ways to use up the stack of stationary she still had in order for it not to go to waste. In fact, she had inquired about places where she could donate it. The stationary they gifted her has yet to be used.
Okay, maybe you’re thinking that the stationary was an unfortunate misfire and that her family members got their wires crossed. The print on the stationary was completely not her aesthetic. Again, anyone who knows her would have recognized that she would dislike the print. It’s the last that indicates that no one considered her as a person when selecting a gift, and she felt like it was purchased out of “obligation.” According to my friend, she indicated that she would rather have been given nothing at all than given something meaningless that would do nothing but collect dust.
Now, what does any of that have to do with today’s topic? In a word: re-gifting and making those not-so-great gifts to you work for others. What? Re-gifting is tacky? Hold before tapping out and hear me out.
Over the years, my friend compiled a stack of gifts that she couldn’t or wouldn’t use. In her closet, she had a box where she would stack these gifts. At first, she would attempt to regift them to coworkers, but her coworkers didn’t want them, either. So, she decided to get creative and regift in a different form.
Never regift a gift the same year it is received. In the case of my friend, she’d label who it was from and when she received it. This would ensure that it would not be given to the original gift giver, and if by the off chance the original gift giver saw it being opened by another, they likely would not have remembered gifting it the first time. (Many of the gifts were pretty forgettable.)
Packaging is everything. When possible, remove the gift from the original packaging and re-box with fancy wrapping. This is when the dollar store can be your friend. Grab some inexpensive bows, ribbon, and wrapping paper and head over to YouTube for a gift-wrapping tutorial. Create an exterior packaging that looks like it could be on a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie. The receiver will be so blown away by the wrapping, the contents will be a less disappointing.
Repurpose the item. My friend with the stationary issue used it to make origami. (She checked out an origami book from the local library.) She then purchased inexpensive frames and matting from the craft store and created tasteful wall décor, which she gifted. Another friend who had been gifted holiday kitchen towels used them to make throw pillows.
Create the illusion of expense. Nearly everyone has someone on their Christmas list that erroneously associates cost with quality. Just because something is inexpensive does not mean that it is poor quality. For those who fail to grasp this concept, there is a solution—give gifts that cannot be easily priced in confusing packaging. An associate told me the following story. She is a makeup enthusiast and often receives free samples with purchases. Some of these samples were small vials of expensive perfumes such as Tom Ford and Dior. For years, she’d disregarded them in an old jewelry box. On a whim, she decorated the jewelry box with deconstructed white craft pearls, shells, and stones as a container for the scents. She found a dollar store plastic tray that she covered with a piece of velvet fabric she had lying around to create an insert to hold the vials. Here is where it becomes interesting. Proud of her project, she decided to share a photo on Instagram. Of course, on The Gram people like to have glam shots. With no mal intentions, she prepared a small display. When she took the photo, however, she ended up unintentionally snapping a portion of a giftbag from an upscaled department store that was sitting nearby. She hadn’t noticed the giftbag in the background when she uploaded. She posted the photo without a caption. Some people assumed that she had purchased the box as a sampler from the upscale store. One of those people was a snooty relative who without fail snuffed any gift that she perceived to be less than $100.00. She assumed the DIY projection was some mega expensive, limited-edition designer perfume set. Well, guess what she got gifted that year?
This is a gift that can go a long way and bring a great many smiles without a huge cost. Break out those recipe books or search the internet for some homemade holiday yummies. Many people go for the traditional sugar cookies, gingerbread, or fruitcake. While these are more than acceptable, if giving as a gift, one may want to be more creative or step their game up a notch. This may mean searching for recipes that aren’t readily available in stores or almost exclusively found in bakeries (e.g., Pfeffernüsse or peppernut cookies, macarons, gingerbread fudge, Millionaire shortbread, or red velvet cheesecake bites). This can easily turn into a family activity and a fun way to spend an afternoon. Tins in all shapes, sizes, and designs are sold in multiple types of stores, or even go all out and gift in a ceramic cookie jar.
So, there are five last-minute holiday ideas that can brighten the day for anyone and/or relieve some stress of decorating or gift-giving. No matter what holiday you’re celebrating, have a very merry and safe time.
What do you think? Do you agree or disagree with these points?Did you find any of this information helpful? Let me know your thoughts and opinions in the comment section. If you like this post, please click the like button and share it. If you’re not following me on Creole Bayou blog, what are you waiting for? There’s always room at the bayou.
Penalty Kill, book #4 in the Locker Room Love sports romance series is now available for purchase. Grab your copy at Amazon or at https://books2read.com/penaltykill for more options. Continue reading for the blurb and more information.
When the scandal of a double homicide threatens to destroy his career, this billionaire hockey player hires an ambitious sports agent to improve his public image. It’s time to let the puckery begin.
Timothée Croneau is that jock—the bad boy superstar with the naughty reputation. He’s handsome, arrogant, and a billionaire. He’s also the number one person-of-interest in a double homicide and recently traded to a losing team who is showing him no love. And wouldn’t it be just his luck that his career splashed in the toilet six months after his long-time agent kicked the bucket? Now, he’s stuck with Ryker Kitsch. An agent is supposed to fix his life, though, not break his heart.
Speaking of breaks, ex-athlete Ryker Kitsch wants his in the sports agency realm. He sees his chance to make a name for himself by helping rebrand his agency’s newly acquired hockey star, Timothée Croneau. The guy needs every lick of positive PR he can get. So, why is the devilishly gorgeous forward fighting him at every step and leaving Ryker to wonder if he’s been hired for a babysitting gig?
The mess Timothée is stirring was never in any contract Ryker was hired to handle. One thing’s for sure. Whether it’s a forecheck or backcheck, collision is inevitable.
For more of my stories, shenanigans, giveaways, and more, check out my blog, Creole Bayou, www.genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com. New posts are made on Wednesdays, and everything is raw and unscathed. Climb on in a pirogue and join me on the bayou.
Being blind had its challenges and its advantages. As a young child, I had moments of doubt because of my disability, and I felt I was different when I was around sighted peers or family. I had many passions as a young girl that kept me feeling normal, and one of them was reading. The Library for the Blind would send me stacks of books, and I would sit on the floor and devour all that I could. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even take off my shoes after school, or I’d be late for dinner, my Granny having to call me multiple times before I understood: stop reading and come eat. Then, I was allowed one day to bring a Braillewriter home from school, and that started my writing journey.
