To Santa, from an Author
By Laura Kaye
A few days ago, I helped my daughters, who are seven and five, write letters to Santa. In them, they detailed all their hopes and dreams for the holidays, the gifts they most wished for, and the things that, for them, would make this Christmas the best. And, I got to thinking, why can’t grown-ups do that? Why can’t we put our hopes and wishes to paper and believe that maybe, just maybe, something will make them come true. So, in the spirit of the magic and belief that is a part of my recently released contemporary fantasy romance, North of Need, I’m picking up a long-lost correspondence with an old friend:
December 14, 2011
Dear Santa ~
I’m thinking you remember me, because you’ve got your lists and all. I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while, but I was thinking of you after my girls wrote you letters, so I thought I’d drop you a line.
I know you probably don’t get letters like this very often from people my age, but I figured it’s the season of belief, right? So what could it hurt?
If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, these are the things I’d like this Christmas:
~ I’d love a new laptop. Mine sometimes makes a weird noise inside like a helicopter rotor, and that can’t be good, can it? Plus, sometimes it’s really slow. My laptop is pretty much my entire office – have laptop, will travel! So I think I better not push it until the one I have conks out and just dies.
~ A visit from my mom. I know this one is asking a lot, since my mom is gone and all. But I figure the North Pole is probably closer to where she is than I am, so if you see her and she’s not too busy, please ask her to pop in sometime. I miss her, and I’d love for her to see my girls.
~ The ability to write full-time. Okay, maybe this is one only I can really give myself, by continuing to write more and better books, but if there’s anything you can do to bring this dream to life, I’d really appreciate it.
Well, maybe I should stop there. That already seems like a lot to want all at once. Though, if the elves find any spare time and want to take on my laundry room, I’d be ever so grateful. It turns out that trying to write books and keep up with doing laundry doesn’t really work, at least not in my house, and I’m a bit worried that I might ultimately lose my dog or five-year-old if one of them wanders in there. So, okay, that’s it then.
Thanks so much for considering my list, Santa, and I hope this message finds you well!
Now, you’ve read mine—what would be on your letter to Santa? Comment with your email address and be entered to win a signed 11x17” North of Need poster! Open to U.S. and Canada. Giveaway ends 12/31.
Thanks for reading!
About North of Need:
Desperate to escape agonizing memories of Christmas past, twenty-nine-year-old widow Megan Snow builds a snow family outside the mountain cabin she once shared with her husband, realizing too late that she's recreated the very thing she'll never have.
Called to life by Megan's tears, snow god Owen Winters appears unconscious on her doorstep in the midst of a raging blizzard. As she nurses him to health, Owen finds unexpected solace in her company and unimagined pleasure in the warmth of her body, and vows to win her heart for a chance at humanity.
Megan is drawn to Owen's mismatched eyes, otherworldly masculinity, and enthusiasm for the littlest things. But this Christmas miracle comes with an expiration--before the snow melts and the temperature rises, Megan must let go of her widow's grief and learn to trust love again, or she'll lose Owen forever.
Chair Lift 3 took them where they needed to the top of the mountain, and Owen loved how Megan snuggled into the side of his body, their thighs pressed tight together. He gazed down at her. “Beautiful up here,” he murmured as the unnoticed resort glided by beneath them.
“Yeah.” She turned away from his chest and took in the view, then glanced up to see him staring at her. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, discernible even under her ski goggles and beanie. She leaned back against him. He squeezed her in with his arm around her shoulders. At the end of the lift ride, they jumped off together and she guided them to the trail she wanted to try.
“Okay, promise me you won’t cheat.”
“Cheat? What do you mean?”
“None of that snow god voodoo,” she said.
Owen’s whole body shook with amusement.
“I mean it,” Megan said, humor coloring her voice.
He steadied himself using his poles. “No voodoo. Got it.”
“Good. Okay, then. Wait here a second, I want to show you something.”
He nodded. “All right.”
Megan slowly skied away from him. “Stay right there, now,” she called over her shoulder. Just as he started to frown at how far she’d gone, she threw him a mischievous look, dug her poles in, and shoved off. “Catch me if you can!”
Owen gaped. “That little…And she told me not to cheat.” He didn’t think on it long, though, because he was after her in a flash. He knew why she made him promise not to use his powers. She was good. Surefooted and centered. Handled the turns with ease and zigzagged on the straightaways to pick up speed. Gods, her competence on the snow had him hardening in his pants.
He whooped out a cheer of pure exhilaration. The cold air whipped at his hair—he wore neither hat nor goggles, not needing them. He filled his lungs with the wind, fed off it. Tightening his stance, he gained on her, but never caught up. Man, was he going to make her pay.
At the bottom, they twisted to a stop, their downhill skis carving into the snow and sending up sprays of powder. Owen glided toward her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled out with a hand over her mouth.
Owen grabbed it and pulled it away, wrapped it around his back.
“I told you, never hide your smiles from me.” He kissed her cold lips. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
She nodded. “Yep. Ready to go again?”
About Laura Kaye: