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Just who is Santa Claus? Join Joe as he discovers his life isn't as useless and empty as he thought it had become. When Charlie, the little girl with the big heart, teams up with him, they discover the true magic of Christmas. A peek inside: "Part of what I got, when I became a 'Nicholas," is the ability to be with certain people. What they know about a child, we know. In turn, their ability to relate to children, is magnified, so they can help them. We can't reach every child who needs it, because there are not nearly enough who can do the work. We can't tell you how you'll know, but you will know when a certain child needs extra 'attention.' When you touch them to let them on your lap or say hello, they'll feel the unconditional love that is the Spirit of Christmas."
Cupcakes, Paws, and Bad Santa Claus - A Novella includes REAL Recipes! Annie Graceland's a baker with a pinch of psychic ability. She's a midwestern girl who's surviving a divorce while navigating the mean clean streets of L.A. When stressed, Annie's psychic gift/curse kicks into high gear. She's empathic; feels other people's lusts, urges and desires in her own body. Usually it's simple -- someone's craving chocolate, or lusting after the wrong guy. But since Annie discovered she could see and talk with ghosts, her life became a little more complicated. It's Christmas season but Annie's not feeling the holiday spirit. The ghost of Dr. Derrick Fuller, the pompous self-help author, is still nagging her to help him pass to the Afterlife. Annie's soon to be ex-husband is pushing for joint custody of her beloved cat. Her BFF takes her shopping at the mall to cheer her up. Instead they get felt up by Santa Claus and harassed by mall employees. When Annie spots the Sweet Paws table--the animal charity where she met her cat. She flees there for support--only to be guilted into baking hundreds of cupcakes for their holiday fundraiser party--the Furball. The Event Organizer convinces Annie to play sexy Mrs. Claus at the swanky event. When the same Bad Santa from the mall is murdered at the party, Derrick pesters Annie to track down his killer so he and Santa can pass to the Afterlife. Can Annie find Bad Santa's killer before she and others are whacked at the Furball? Can she resolve her latest debacle before her boyfriend, hottie Detective Raphael Campillio, finds it odd she keeps showing up at murder scenes? Can Annie find the light that Bad Santa and Derrick need to go to in order to pass to the Afterlife? And what about that little dog... **Includes a Gingerbread cupcake recipe donated by baker Laura DeVries from the award winning Cupcakes-A-Go-Go Cafe in Madison, Wisconsin!**
Even though Santa gets all the acclaim, behind the scenes, it's Mrs. Claus who keeps everything running smoothly through the busiest time of year at the North Pole.
It's Christmas! Things are going well in Rabbit Creek. Elizabeth has taken her duties as the Alpha's Mate to heart and as the story opens, that heart is breaking for the loneliness and isolation of one of her pack. It's Christmas Eve and no one should be lonely at Christmas. Lindy doesn't feel like she has much to celebrate. After two years of widowhood, she can barely make ends meet without the aid of her pack and while her inner wolf is ready to move on, Lindy isn't sure she can let go of the past. New to the pack, Travis had party plans for the Holidays, but he ends up playing Santa to a pretty little widow and her pup. She's not what he was looking for, but she's exactly what he wants and his inner wolf agrees. Now all he has to do is convince Lindy that Christmas gifts aren't always the ones you find under the tree.
Mr. William B. Aikins, alias "Softy" Hubbard, alias Billy The Hopper, paused for breath behind a hedge that bordered a quiet lane and peered out into the highway at a roadster whose tail light advertised its presence to his felonious gaze. It was Christmas Eve, and after a day of unseasonable warmth a slow, drizzling rain was whimsically changing to snow.The Hopper was blowing from two hours' hard travel over rough country. He had stumbled through woodlands, flattened himself in fence corners to avoid the eyes of curious motorists speeding homeward or flying about distributing Christmas gifts, and he was now bent upon committing himself to an inter-urban trolley line that would afford comfortable transportation for the remainder of his journey. Twenty miles, he estimated, still lay between him and his domicile.
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