I have several books with hot cocoa in them and I spent some time going through all of them. I think this is my favorite scene with it… And I’d forgotten how much I love this story
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Why? You don’t like cocoa?”
“Of course, but I…” Tessa shook her head at the out of the blue request. “Yes, we do have a place. Prim’s Cafe. It’s a couple doors down.”
“Do you mind if we stop and get some?”
“Not at all.”
The couple of doors they passed were the County Courthouse and Linda’s Candles and Gifts.
The old courthouse was a red brick building with a wide stairway leading up to the four imposing columns at the top. It was narrow along the front but extended deeper beyond the street.
Linda’s Candles and Gifts was a small storefront that looked like the outside of a cottage. In fact, most all the storefronts had that same aesthetic, They weren’t connected, each having a small alley between them opening up to streets behind. They were independent, standalone buildings, some built of brick and others of concrete. Many were big enough that their owners lived either upstairs or in apartments hidden behind doors that never opened to the customers.
Tessa loved the quaintness of downtown Silver Falls. It looked unlike any other downtown main street in a small town she’d ever been to or driven through. That was part of the appeal. It looked like a Christmas village.
Prim’s Cafe was lit up and full of people. One look at Dash told her it was more than he’d expected.
The rich aromas of coffee and cinnamon filled the air. A hush did too, when she and Dash walked in. Not a sound, not even a whisper as everyone stared.
Dash started to ease his hand away, but she tightened her fingers. She wasn’t about to let him go.
“Oh, come on!” she exclaimed to the room at large. “You all act like you’ve never seen a stranger before.”
“We’ve just never seen you with a stranger.”
“Or holding hands.”
“Or kissing.” Gasps could be heard from the front of the room to the back. “That’s right. They were deep into it back at Chuck’s, if you know what I mean. And right out where anyone could see them, too.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Really Beth? What are you people? Twelve?” she asked, looking around. “This is Dash. He’s a business associate of Daddy’s and if you have any issues with my behavior, well tough. I’m an adult and can do what I want. With whoever I want. Got it? Harold? Marge? Beth? Are we good?”
Murmurs of agreement along with a few whispers of ‘Wait ‘til I call her mother’ swept through the café.
Tessa looked up at Dash. At least he seemed bemused rather than like a deer in headlights. “You okay?” she asked softly.
“I am. I’ve never caused a stir before.”
“Really? You’ve never caused a stir among the elves?”
“No. I’m more of a loner. I do my job and I go home. I occasionally hang out, but mostly I just go home.”
Something about his words tugged at her. He didn’t sound sad, but he sounded lonely. Oh, it wasn’t overt, more like an undertone.
“You two are causing a rumbling among the locals,” Prim quipped from behind the cafe counter.
“You know me,” Tessa said. “I’m all about that town gossip. Prim, this is Dash. Dash, this is the owner, Prim. She can make you anything your heart desires.”
He arched a dark brow. “Anything?”
“Within reason.”
Tessa gave a short bark of laughter. “She’s being modest. Whatever you want, just ask. She can whip it up.”
“Hot cocoa? With dark chocolate and mint, whipped cream and sprinkles?”
“Mmm… That sounds delicious,” Prim said. “Let’s see what I can do.”
“It doesn’t sound so difficult.”
“It’s all about the taste, the correct ratio of chocolate to mint.”
“Really?” Tessa’s surprise had to show on her face with her scrunched forehead and narrowed eyes. “You seem pretty heavy into this cocoa thing.”
“It’s my favorite drink.”
“Well, Prim has this thing… A customer asks for any drink at all and she makes it. Or tries. If it’s close to what the customer wants, she’ll charge regular price. But if it’s not close at all, she won’t charge for it.”
“How often has she had to give a drink away for free?” Dash asked. His gaze was trained on Prim as she worked behind the counter with cocoa powder, milk, and several candy canes.
Tessa loved his intensity, his focus, his curiosity.
“I think she’s got maybe three wrong in as many years.”
“That’s all? That’s impressive.”
“Of course, most people ask for outrageous coffee drinks, but I have no doubt she can do a hot chocolate to your liking. Where did you come up with that one, anyway? You said it’s your favorite?”
Dash leaned down, putting his lips to the edge of her ear. His warm breath gave her goose bumps in the overly warm shop. “Mrs. Claus,” he whispered. “It’s one of her things. At a very young age, on one’s first visit to Claus Manor, she brings out a tray of different ciders and cocoas. Whichever one you drink all of, that’s the one she makes you the rest of your life.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Did I hear you say Mrs. Claus?”
Tessa and Dash turned to look at the woman standing behind them. Dash blushed and Tessa took his hand again. She wanted him to know he didn’t have to face anyone in her hometown alone. “I did, yes,” Dash answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“As in Santa Claus’ Mrs. Claus?”
“Yes. She runs a café much like this one where I come from and that’s what we call her. Mrs. Claus. She dresses the part, too.”
He looked and sounded so serious that even if Tessa didn’t know the real truth, she’d have believed him.
“Oh. You spoke with such openness, you see, that I thought you were trying to say Santa and Mrs. Claus were real people.”
“Would that be so bad?” Dash asked, a note of surprise in his voice. “A little belief in magic at the holidays?”
“No. Just… it’s not real and we shouldn’t fill people’s heads with things that aren’t real like that.”
“There’s so much real,” Dash said. “The holidays are supposed to light and joyful and full of whimsy. There’s no harm in believing in Santa Claus or his wife. It’s the enchantment of the season that gives the real parts of life hope.”
“I believe in Santa,” Tessa added with a grin.
“I did, too, as a kid.”
“Why did you stop?”
“I grew up.”
“So? That’s when belief is most important. It’s why I never stopped, and he’s never stopped delivering.”
“What did you ask for this year?” Beth asked.
“Dash.”
Beth eyed Dash up and down. “Then I’d say you must’ve been a very good girl this year.”
Amen to that, Tessa thought. “Oh, I was.”
A quick look at Dash and Tessa saw his blush had deepened.
But the point I think Dash was trying to make and it goes along with mine… Don’t stop believing. Whatever you do because you never know when Santa will drop your heart’s desire right into your lap. Or, as in my case, the driveway.”
Laughter filtered around them and she felt Dash relax in the way he’d held her hand.
She liked it, holding hands with him. She liked being connected to him in this way, physically touching him, feeling his energy and strength flowing from him through to her.
“Okay boys and girls, here we go,” Prim announced, making her way toward them. “Let’s see if I got Dash’s drink right.”
Prim presented him with a cup, and he took it, but only hesitantly. He pulled his hand from Tessa’s and turned the cup around slowly, gazing at it.
“Is everything all right?” Everyone watched them, and Tessa wasn’t sure if he was aware of it or not.
“This cup… It’s very similar to the ones Mrs. Claus uses. Hers are pewter, but the scroll work and engravings are near identical. He glanced at Tessa, then at Prim, and shrugged.
He took a whiff and ended up with a dot of whipped cream on the tip of his nose.
“You, ah…” Tessa started to point it out, but he winked and took a sip before she could. The whipped cream mustache when he lowered the mug was a priceless look for him. She did tell him that.
“Well?” Prim prompted, eagerness spilling over in her words.
Dash held up a hand while he took another, longer sip. He moaned. “It’s perfect,” he said, almost more to himself than to anyone else. He licked his lips and took another swallow. “It’s exactly what I was thinking of.”
Prim grinned and clapped her hands. “Fantastic. I’ll go ring it up for you.”
“I’ve got this one,” Tessa said. She followed Prim to the counter while Dash drank more of the hot cocoa, marveling at the taste. “What did you put in that drink? He seems mesmerized by it.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Prim looked away and fiddled with the tablet, moving it this way, then that way.
“You’re fibbing, Primrose Noelle.”
Prim tightened her lips at the use of her first and middle names and shook her head, walking away.
Tessa joined Dash again and their small crowd had dispersed, leaving them alone. Well, as alone as they could be in a crowded café. “It’s good?”
“It’s incredible. Would you like a sip?”
“Just a small one.” She took the cup and their hands connected over the heated copper. It was unique, one she’d never seen Prim use before. Something was up in the little café, especially given what Dash had said about the cup and Mrs. Claus.
Tessa gave an involuntary groan when the cocoa hit her tongue.
“Well?” Dash’s voice was nearly as eager as Prim’s had been while waiting for his reaction.
“Oh my God… That’s delicious.”
“It is. But…”
“But what?” She took another drink from the cup. Hot cocoa wasn’t really her thing, but if she had this to drink every day, she could make it her thing. Though, an espresso shot or two would make it even better.
“If I didn’t know your friend had Prim made it, I would swear Mrs. Claus did.”
“It is just like hers or similar?”
“Just like it. I’ve been drinking it my whole life and I’d know the difference if there was one.”
“Hmm… That is odd,” Tessa agreed. “You didn’t give her a recipe and she said she’d never made one before, so for her to get it exactly right? That tells me I was right.”
“About what? Are you going to give me the mug back?
Tessa laughed and held it out to him. “Sorry. It’s really good. And I’m right about something going on with Prim. She’s got a secret and I think we need to ask some questions.”
Are you a hot cocoa fan? Do you have a special recipe? And if you are a fan, are you in Camp Marshmallow or Camp Whipped Cream? Inquiring author wants to know…
I have been working on and thinking about this series for the last few years. I have written and re-written the first book. I have started and re-started the second book. I also realized there will be a fourth book (which I need to contact Bookin’ It Designs for that cover). I have second, third, and fourth guessed the books and the whole series. I have spent countless hours and sleepless nights watching races and researching. I wanted to get it right. As right as I possible could.
One of the things that has plagued me about the series is how much racing do I add because understanding endurance racing is not as easy as understanding other types of racing. How much information about the type of cars and the type of racing and the rules do I include?
I saw an author say that she planned to write an F1 romance even though she’d never seen a race or knew anything about it.
I saw another author say that her hockey romance simply had the mention of the hero being a hockey player once upon a time and that there’s no actual hockey in the book.
I’ve read books with the sports being very well detailed, on the ice or the field, with research, and others with the sports being fluffed off and secondary or even deeper in the background.
So, how much do readers want? I think it varies, honestly.
It’s a fine line to walk for me. I don’t want the racing to be in the background, but I also don’t want to bore readers with it. I want the characters affected by it. It’s a risky profession and I want that noted in this series and in all racing series I write. Part of the overarching theme is the aftermath and fallout from a terrible wreck involving best friends and how it touches everyone and everything around them.
One of the best reviews I got for the first book in the Stick Shift Motorsports (when the first book was titled Stick Shift), was when someone said ‘The author seems to know what she’s talking about. I think she’s actually been to a race‘. I had been to many races by that point. It’s been important to me from the start to make sure I’m as authentic as possible while also taking a few liberties because after all, I do write romantic fiction. There’s always going to be exaggeration in how characters act or interact, but I try not to downplay what happens on a track. The locations of race shops will also be at liberty, too, but they had to be to fit the stories and how the characters interact.
Now… This series is going to be handled a little differently than others. Endurance racing doesn’t happen every single week the way Nascar does. The tracks and race dates are still all over. There are different endurance racing series (IMSA (International Motor Sports Association), FIA WEC (Federation Internationale de l’Automobile World Endurance Championship), European Le Mans series, Asian Le Mans series, and others…)
I’m basing my Endurance series on IMSA… The season starts in January at Daytona with the first race being the Rolex 24 at Daytona and then travels through the year to 11 tracks across the country. Unlike Nascar, endurance cars are broken into classes and there will be a winning team in each class. There’s also driver categorization and this covers all drivers in all racing series… Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. Moving from one to the other is based on race results, series participation, career progression, experience, and consistency. They are then reviewed by the governing body, generally the FIA, and upgraded. Making a move, say from Bronze to Gold would mean the driver is transitioning from amateur to professional with podium finishes.
Teams have multiple drivers for one car, as well. Per the IMSA website “A minimum of two drivers are required for every race – with up to three to five drivers used’ in the…longer endurance races at Daytona, Sebring, Watkins Glen, and Road Atlanta. Those races are respectively 24 hours at Daytona, 12 hours of Sebring, 6 hours at Watkins Glen, and 10 hours at Road Atlanta.
So, these are the things that I try to understand and keep in mind. How much do I include? How much is relevant to the story I am trying to tell?
All That Glitters happens at the start of the season, before Daytona. I don’t actually show any racing in this book, but there’s plenty of drama and angst about racing fueling it. It also ends on a cliffhanger and it won’t be resolved until book four. There will also be snippets of internal monologue from the MMC in book one peppered here and there in book 2, All That Burns and in book 3, All That Echoes. It’ll be important but how I’m going to do it, I don’t know.
All the books will be released on race weekends and I’m still working out the finer details. All That Burns will likely be the 12 Hours of Sebring which is in mid-March, but All That Echoes will likely be in mid-June, with All That Endures in mid-October.
I really want to put these books in print and create a bundle when they’re all finished. They will be a wide release because KU doesn’t do well for me.
All That Glitters ties in Checkered Curves, Stick Shift Motorsports book 3, which still needs some serious help, but I’m determined to work out all those kinks. I don’t have a release date for it, yet, but it’ll be soon because yeah…
I didn’t answer all the questions. I didn’t give as many details here as I could have, maybe should have. But I gave what I felt needed to be given…
Releases throughout the year.
Cliffhanger at the end of All That Glitters because it had to be done…
Four books.
Angst on and off the track.
All That Glitters connection to Stick Shift Motorsports series.
Work on this series has been so different. It’s been a labor of love as well as just a labor of craft. I have questioned myself, up one side and down the other, about whether I have the skills to make it work. This is truly something I’ve been so excited and terrified to write and give to you.
When I’m working through revisions and edits on books, the music I listen to generally has nothing at all to do with the book. It’s a playlist of songs I grew up listening to. It’s an album on repeat that I know every part of right down to the millisecond. And I’m one of those people that when music is on, I have to sing along if I know the words. If I don’t know the words, I have to listen intently so whomever I’m with is going to be ignored for a bit.
The album I get listen to mostly is Duran Duran’s Arena. I was such a fan in the early-mid 80’s. Every inch of my walls were covered in posters, I had albums and cassettes. They were the first band I ever spent my own money on. I saw them in 1984 and that started a 5 year concert adventure full of 80’s pop and 80’s metal. Duran Duran saved my life… Music saved my life.
Anyway… Arena is something that has no ties to what I’m writing and I can let it play on repeat while I work. It’s words and inflection I know by heart and in my sleep. I can sing along, but be 100% focused on the changes needed for book in front of me.
When I went searching for what I wanted for this today, I found the trailer for Arena…
What’s an album that brings back memories and that you know by heart without even thinking about it?
Welcome to Snippet Saturday! Each Saturday, I’ll pick a theme and then pick a part from one of my books or one of my works-in-progress that I think fits. I hope that once I get back into the swing of this (I’d forgotten how long it takes to find just the right snippet) that I’ll be able to find some authors to participate on their blogs, too.
I don’t know about you, but I find myself thinking of years gone by when the holidays come around sometimes more than any other time of year. Maybe because there’s so much emphasis put on family and friends and time together and making memories that will last forever. I have some of those around the holidays, but not as many.
Today’s snippet is from The Billionaire of Gumdrop Valley. (And yes, I know billionaires are kinda on the naughty list, so forgive me for using this one)…
The way she looked at him, an adult version of the adoring teenage girl she used to be… “Are you okay?”
“I am.” He wasn’t sure that was the truth. He wasn’t sure he was okay or anything resembling it.
“It must be strange being back here after so long.”
He looked around. They’d made it to the town square, the twin of the one located in Gingerbread Hollow. His family had helped build them long before he was born when the towns were founded. He felt like a stranger and a familiar all at the same time.
“My parents would spend Saturday evenings sitting on the bench at the edge of the square.” He started walking toward it, crossing the deserted street, his heart heavy, his gaze taking in the Christmas tree set just to the side of the gazebo, both of which were light brightly. “They’d have dinner at the diner. My father would order cherry pie the entire month of December. He said it was Christmas and the red sweetness was appropriate. My mother would take hot chocolate around town for everyone, at work or at home, and double batches to the relief centers here and in Gingerbread Hollow.”
“I know. She would ask my grandmother to make it for her.”
“Your grandmother? I didn’t know that. I thought it was Pearl’s recipe.” He sat on the bench his parents used to sit on. Snow still fell in steady flakes and while his mind knew how cold it was, his body no longer registered it. He was lost in the memories he hadn’t let himself remember. “Do you remember my parents? It used to be hard for me to think about them or to remember.”
“I do. Your mom always bought every cookie or chocolate bar or tube of wrapping paper from all the fundraisers we had in school. She was the biggest reason we met our goals every year. And your dad… I remember the cherry pie fixation he had. I worked part-time at the diner during the festival.”
“Were you sculpting snow then, too?”
“No. I wasn’t interested until just a few years ago. Another ex.”
He didn’t like that she had ex’s. That wasn’t a fair thought, and he knew it. She’d gone on with her life, the same as he’d gone about rebuilding his, but he still didn’t like it.
And he didn’t want to be an ex.
She hadn’t sat beside him on the bench, and he hadn’t invited her to. He had a feeling she knew it was a sacred moment for him, a sort of private one. “I wasn’t sure how I would feel sitting in the place they sat. It was a Saturday night the last time I saw them. They were right here. I was off to a Christmas party with friends, and they were laughing and talking to people that walked by.”
“They loved each other very much, didn’t they?”
“Yes. They loved me just as much.”
“I can’t imagine what that was like, what it must’ve felt like to have your whole world fall apart. At Christmas. I remember that party you’re talking about. You were with a girl. I can’t remember her name.”
“What did you think of me?”
“I didn’t really know you except through my brother and through gossip at school.”
“But you had an opinion of your own, didn’t you? I was at your house a lot.” He didn’t know why he was pressing her for an answer, but he wanted it. He wanted to know what this woman, the one who ran an inn and served his father cherry pie, the one who liked to build things in the snow thought about him.
And he wanted to know it, right then and there, in the middle of downtown Gumdrop Valley, their hometown, with snow blowing all around them, and being the only two crazy people out in it.
“The truth?” She fidgeted and shifted her weight and looked everywhere except at him, but then she got still and stared at him. “I had the biggest crush. I was always secretly excited when you’d spend time at our house with Frankie or would come over for dinner. I tried not to get in the way, but just like every other girl in school, I liked you.”
“But…?”
“Then you changed.” Her words hit him right in the gut. He’d already known but hearing the words didn’t make it easier.
“And what did you see then?”
“What everyone saw, I guess. Sadness.”
“Is that all?” Still, he pushed, and her uncertainty and discomfort could be felt across the few feet separating them.
“I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to answer, to tell you what you want to hear.” After a few seconds… “Would you like to walk back?”
“No. I think I’m going to stay here for a while longer.”
“Would you like me to stay with you?”
“No.”
“We didn’t bring the hot cocoa. Would you like me to go get you some so you can stay warm?”
“Thank you, Ginger, but no. You should head back to the inn so you can get warm.”
“Are you sure? Cane, I…”
“I’m sure.”
He’d closed her out and he didn’t know why he’d done that any more than he knew why he’d been seeking answers that she didn’t have. He watched her walk away until the snow swallowed her behind its white veil, leaving him alone the way he had been for years and the way he didn’t want to be any longer.
It’s been a long time since I’ve come to the blog with some thoughts and ideas and just ramblings. I used to love blogging, well, to a point. I never learned the ins and outs of SEO or how to make it look more polished and professional like some other authors did and have and still do. I never learned to do that with my newsletters either. The thing that I wanted most out of blogging and sending newsletters was some way to connect with those who chose to read them, to make it an extension of my relationship with readers outside the books I wrote.
There were blog parties and blog hops and theme posts on certain days. I look back now with nostalgia for how it used to be and while I can say that part of me enjoyed it, I can also admit that part of me didn’t. Much like things with social media, if there isn’t a strategy or a plan or a system in place for blogging, it’s going to feel like it’s nothing short of a pasta tossing party to see what sticks to the wall. My only strategy or plan or goal with blogging was to connect with readers. That’s always been the thing I wanted. To connect. To reach out. To write books people wanted to read. To have a place they could visit, look around, read words not in books, see things and maybe interact with posts about crafts or food or coffee or sports or music or…other books.
As I’ve taken stock of where I am in my career (in many ways, worse off than when I first began with my very first novella, Educating Rose), I’ve had to come to some realizations and I’ve had to acknowledge some truths.
I don’t like social media. I never have. I didn’t put all my eggs in that basket, but then I didn’t put any eggs in any other baskets, either.
My writing suffered, the writing income I was making suffered (multiple reasons, but a lack of writing books was a big one), and my mental health suffered. I didn’t pivot or shift or change. I stagnated. I missed out on what’s good and what’s bad, what’s in and what’s out, what the current trends are and what needs to be chucked into the nearest dumpster. I felt and still feel like I didn’t belong or fit anywhere anymore. Though, to be honest, I didn’t ever really fit. I wrote the books I couldn’t find, but now they’re everywhere. I wrote the characters no one else was writing, but now everyone is. Information was everywhere all at once on social media, especially Facebook, but broken up in to this group and that group, this clique and that clique. Do this, don’t do that. Pay for this, don’t pay for that. But so was all the drama.
It was never where I was meant to be, not wholly, anyway. Social media should’ve been a place to be social, connect in different ways, make friends. My type of personality was overwhelmed with all the other noise and I felt lost, again, especially on Facebook. I should’ve moved and changed in directions that felt better for me, that opened me up to all that was possible for me in a way that social media wasn’t.
But what does any of this have to do with anything? Well, everything.
So, the first thing I’m going to do is blog more. I’m going to figure out a schedule and I’m going to start blogging again and I’ll mention it in my newsletters when they go out. I’ll be working a schedule for those, too.
There will be Music Mondays. I’ve always liked doing that and I just stopped for no good reason.
I think I’m going to start Snippet Saturday again, too. It was fun with multiple authors and blogs linked, but I can do it on my own, too, until I can find some others to join in on their blogs.
And finally, maybe a Wednesday post of just what I’m up to, what I’m baking or making or reading or watching. Just kind of a way to connect.
My blogs have never been about teaching anyone anything or giving advice or… They’ve been about connecting with readers and sometimes with authors. I remember authors would interview other authors on blogs from time to time and it was fun and those were interesting and informative.
So, these are the things I’d like to do again. I want to get out of comparison and wasting time scrolling and reduce the noise to a barely there hum. Some days I want to reduce the noise completely, to remove the overwhelm because real life outside this site and books, whether writing or reading them, is overwhelming enough.
I think my first Snippet Saturday will be this coming Saturday, provided we have power through the winter storm this weekend.
“Seriously?”
I have been working on and thinking about this series for the last few years. I have written and re-written the first book. I have started and re-started the second book. I also realized there will be a fourth book (which I need to contact Bookin’ It Designs for that cover). I have second, third, and fourth guessed the books and the whole series. I have spent countless hours and sleepless nights watching races and researching. I wanted to get it right. As right as I possible could.
All That Glitters happens at the start of the season, before Daytona. I don’t actually show any racing in this book, but there’s plenty of drama and angst about racing fueling it. It also ends on a cliffhanger and it won’t be resolved until book four. There will also be snippets of internal monologue from the MMC in book one peppered here and there in book 2, All That Burns and in book 3, All That Echoes. It’ll be important but how I’m going to do it, I don’t know.
It’s been a long time since I’ve come to the blog with some thoughts and ideas and just ramblings. I used to love blogging, well, to a point. I never learned the ins and outs of SEO or how to make it look more polished and professional like some other authors did and have and still do. I never learned to do that with my newsletters either. The thing that I wanted most out of blogging and sending newsletters was some way to connect with those who chose to read them, to make it an extension of my relationship with readers outside the books I wrote.
