A Touch of History

I'm a Georgette Heyer fan from way back.  You can tell this by the fact that I use the word Odious in my everyday speech.  I also read Roberta Gellis and quite a few 'bodice rippers' in my teens.  I also love Ellis Peters Cadfael mysteries with those sweet little romances in each one.



This is my first Jeannie Lin historical and a great introduction to a very different era and culture. The setting of the Tang Dynasty in 800AD is beautifully rendered in a simple and unobtrusive manner. The heroine Yan Ling is the lowest of the low, a foundling working in a tea-house where Fei Long is seeking his runaway sister. When he realises Pearl's flight is to some extent his fault, having ignored her early pleas for help, Fei Long lets her go with her lover.

A combination of his absorption in his problem and Yan Ling's fiery temper results in the tea-house girl being cut loose and a man in need of a Princess to save his family honour is not too proud to pick up a stray servant to train her to take his sister's place as a treaty bride with a far off kingdom.

Of course in a romance it never works out quite so easily. Yan Ling is so much more than a mere servant and as he gets to know her, Fei Long finds that what she is inside becomes more important to him than what she can do for his family honour.

Yan Ling is intrigued from the start by this rather cool, controlled former soldier. As he teaches her the skills she needs, her feelings start to go astray. She finds herself not as practical as Fei Long insists.

Ms Lin introduces an interesting cast of characters, in particular the servant girl Dao, and the theatrical artist, Bai Shen who takes on training Yan Ling in the art of womanhood. A nice touch of irony from a male actor.

The romance between Yan Ling and Fei Long fairly sizzles even though we don't see any intimacy through most of the book. Yan Ling is the perfect foil for the buttoned up Fei Long, encouraging him to look beyond the rules and regulations and see Honour and Duty as tied up with the Heart rather than appearance and social acceptance.

I thoroughly enjoyed this story and even though the solution to the problem was fairly clear only halfway through the story, the culmination of the story was very satisfying. Ms Lin has a nice strain of humour that runs through the book and the ending leaves you with a smile from the humour as well as the romance.

When Emily Got Married

I've just finished reading When Honey Got Married.  I enjoyed it thoroughly, perhaps because I've just been through a family wedding at Easter.  And it was that kind of wedding.  Honey and Emily could be besties because the attention to detail, the craving for perfection, it was all there.  Absolutely beautiful but terrifying in the execution. I include photos of my daughters wedding in lieu of Honey's.

This is my review. ***** 5 Stars because it made me cry.

This was an amazing read. Four novella's centred around not the bride but the sister, the best friend, the wedding planner and the potential 'other woman'.

Honey has organised a humdinger of a wedding. As over the top as you could get with hummingbirds and honeysuckle galore. While she's having bridal jitters and flipping from Bridezilla to the Runaway Bride, the women around her are having their own dramas.

Because among the wedding guests and organisers are some seriously hot men. Like Beau, the chef at Belle Fleur, the wedding venue, who is an old acquaintance of Grace the Wedding planner. 

Cousin Rainer, who would do anything for Brent and Honey, including heading off Eve, Brent's work colleague who had a 'moment' with him just before he got engaged. 
Then there is British Alex, Nina's best friend at the Circus who comes with her as her plus one.

Finally there is Griffin, Brent's brother, who was always around when Pippa was Brent's girlfriend back in the day and somehow made her more aware of him than ever Brent could.

Over the four stories, we get to see these romances develop, but we also see how each of these women help or influence Honey in getting through the biggest day of her life.

This is such a feel good read. What more can you ask for but not one but FIVE happy endings. And if you get a little teary and emotional on the way. Well that's even better.

The Bride and her mother getting ready

The whole hair thing with two of the brides sisters

The Brides Best Friend

The magic moment when Emily married Ashley

The MOTB with Anne Hathaway lookalike daughter

The Youngest Bridesmaid

The Brides Brother and 2nd youngest sister

A romantic moment

Pensive Bridesmaids

The Bride and the Matron of Honour

Cutting the Cake

Check the hair out.

I cleaned.  Semi-willingly.  Well under the whipcracking orders of my 12 year old daughter...

This weekend I cleaned some old software off this bookshelf to make way for my current TBR pile.  I was only going to clean off one shelf but No.7 who has Cleaning OCD (not genetic) cleared the whole bookshelf and the desk underneath. It's brown.  Who knew.

Since then I've been stacking books on the shelves.  On the top I've put my medical authors.  The next shelf is Urgent TBR's this includes quite a lot of books I've been given as well as some I've bought.  The third shelf is  my current keeper shelf.  Authors that don't belong in my vintage collection though I notice Kate Walker has some books being released in the eBook Vintage Collection.  Also on that shelf are my 'research' Sweet Romances and a selection of recent books by authors not yet on my keeper shelf but trending.

This is a gif so it you watch the pic will change.  Yeah I just learned how to do gifs so I'm likely to be boring

I'm a Maisey Yates Fangirl

This means that I nag her constantly for new books,  stalk her on Twitter and Facebook and anywhere else I can find her. I rejoice when I hear she's signed a 12 book contract because I will have more to read.  When I remember how very young she is I am confident that I shall never run out of new books before I die like I did with Georgette Heyer, Agatha Christie and Ellis Peters.

Heir to a Desert Legacy

Once again Maisey Yates puts together a tale full of angst and passion to keep you engaged. As the surrogate mother of her half sisters child, Chloe thought she would do her duty by her sister and then step back into the safe anonymity of her academic world. There she could avoid the danger of passion that made her childhood a nightmare.

Sayid, brother of the sheikh, was brought up to be an emotionless machine, designed to fight for his country at all costs. Unfortunately he couldn’t protect his brother and his wife from dying in a car accident on the way to collect their child from Chloe. When he discovers the existence of the child he will do anything to protect the future king.

Drawn into Sayid’s world because of baby Aden, Chloe finds her commitment to a passionless existence threatened by the close proximity of this dark and damaged man. When they marry, to secure Chloe’s place as Aden’s mother it becomes even harder.

I loved this story and the dance of denial the hero and heroine are involved in. They have both pushed any thought of emotional involvement from their lives but for Chloe, baby Aden has breached the barrier, leaving her vulnerable.

What happens when these two start to open up to each other is amazing. There is one wow moment that made me fall for Sayid so hard. I just loved the book and the stress on the importance of love and hope for the future.

Heir to a Dark Inheritance.

Alik is a bad bad man. His only redeeming feature is his loyalty to his friend Sayid, from the companion book Heir to a Desert Legacy. He's not anyone's idea of good husband and father material. But he is, reluctantly, a father.

Widowed Jada has been caring for his child since the death of the mother. All she wants is to be Leena's mother. She's already been a wife and being Alik's wife would only be bearable because of baby Leena.
Watching these two make a convenient marriage is like watching gunpowder in a candle shop. It is a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster full of sizzle and sark.
Somehow Maisey makes it work through the darkest depths to a HEA that is believable at the last.

Being a Fangirl also means you do ridiculous things like find naked dolls in thrift shops and immediately realise that they look just like the hero and heroine in the latest release.  Then you take photos and turn them into a gif simply because you can.

Alik makes the moves on Jada

Finally you become so obsessed with the characters that you write fanfiction where your characters meet their characters.

Alik Fanfic

The nurse was giggling again.  Ruslan quivered with anticipation.  He knew what that meant.  Squirming against the pillows, he craned his neck to try and see the door of the pan room.  The other boys in the ward slept on, the drugs doled out at bedtime doing their job.

Ruslan probed under his pillows for the tissue wrapped parcel.  Seven of the little blue sleeping pills,  fourteen of the white ones they gave out for bad pain.  Alik would be pleased.

The noises were reaching a crescendo, the gasps and little squeaks from the nurse followed by a masculine grunt and then silence.  A whisper and a rustle.

The nurse shot back into the ward, smoothing down her skirt.   She always boasted about being engaged to the other staff, but when Alik came around she tucked her engagement ring in the pocket of her coat that hung at the nurse’s station.   She settled at the desk, carefully not looking towards Ruslan’s bed.  He wondered exactly what was so special about Alik that she would break hospital rules to let him in after visiting hours.

Finally Alik sauntered into the room, his dark hair ruffled, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his fatigues.  He looked older than sixteen, bulky in the heavy jacket and taller than anyone.  Ruslan wriggled to try and straighten in the bed.  One day.  When he’d had his operation.  He would be just like Alik.

‘Hey Ruslan.’

‘Hello Alik.’

‘What do you have for me?’

Carefully, Ruslan held out the tissue.  ‘Seven and fourteen, this time.  I’m getting good at it.  That trick you showed me works every time.’

The older boy counted the pills and slipped them into his pocket.  ‘You did okay kid.’

The hand came out again with a paper bag.  Grinning up at his idol, Ruslan took the bag.  ‘Chocolate?’

‘Da.’  Alik looked across at the nurse.  ‘Three this time.  You’ll need to make them last.’

Reaching across, Ruslan put the bag on the cupboard.  ‘Are you going away again?’

‘ Maybe.’   That cool, blue-grey gaze sparked with some emotion.  ‘Can you keep a secret kid?’

‘Of course.   You know that.’  He winced as a sharp pain stabbed at his spine.  He shouldn’t have twisted when he’d moved.

Straight away Alik bent over, studying his face with those piercing eyes.  ‘Are you sure you should be giving me the painkillers?’

‘It’s alright.  I just moved wrong.  I have my operation soon.  Then I can come and work with you.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘But they promised.’  Ruslan’s heart jumped into his throat.  ‘They said I’d be able to walk after the operation.’

‘Sure you will.  But you won’t be working with me.’

‘Why not?   You said I was smart.  Just as smart as you.’

‘I’m not going to be around after tonight.’

‘Are you in trouble?’

‘No.  Not yet.  But if I hang around…’

‘Where will you go?’

‘That’s a secret.   I don’t want you to have to lie.  They don’t like liars.’

Ruslan blinked hard.  Alik never cried so he wouldn’t cry.  Crying’s for babies.  He was nearly a man, like Alik.

‘Will I see you again?’

‘I’m leaving the country.  It won’t be safe for me to come back.’

‘Never?’

‘I don’t know.  I’ll be following the money.  That could take me anywhere.’

‘You could write to me.  I could write back and tell you what’s happening here.’  Alik’s face hardened.  Sometimes it was easy to believe the rumours.   Ruslan didn’t want to believe them, but somehow he just did. 

 ‘Look kid, this was business.  It’s not like we’re friends.  What makes you think I’d be interested in hearing your problems?’

‘Not friends?’

‘You’re eleven years old and stuck in a hospital.  I’ve got better things to do than write letters to some kid I’m never going to see again.’

It was a different pain this time.  Ruslan preferred the other one.  It  didn’t make it hard to breath.

‘I’m sorry.  I didn’t understand.’

Alik shrugged, avoiding his eyes. ‘I’m sorry too, kid.  But it was just business.’

Ruslan watched him leave, not sauntering this time.  Striding past the nurse with a brisk nod of dismissal.

Are you an Issues Writer? - Sarah M Anderson

Indigenous Issues and their portrayal.

A look at vintage cinema and the modern romance.  A totally random holiday post.

I'm an American Indian fan from way back though sadly disadvantaged being an Australian.  I'm old enough to remember all those movies from the sixties and seventies with John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Glenn Ford, Audie Murphy and so on.  I saw all those Spaghetti Westerns with Clint Eastwood and Terrence Hill.  I saw The Magnificent Seven and fell in love with James Coburn.

I also saw A Man Called Horse and Little Big Man. Along with a relatively unknown school library book "Comanche", a book that was quite graphic despite being targeted at young teens.  They made a big impact on me. (I have Googled for the book and all I find is one by Fabio)

American Indians are perceived as much more romantic than our own indigenous people here in Australia.  The most well known movie about an Australian Aborigine made in the seventies was "The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith."  It is about a part indigenous young man who struggles to cope with his place in the world. Jimmy murdered everyone in such a violent and bloodthirsty manner that half the people in the cinema in Cunnamulla walked out.  It probably did nothing for race relations in a town that was 50% indigenous.

Even "Jedda," a more sympathetic portrayal of a young indigenous woman brought up in a white world, made by Australian film maker Charles Chauvel in 1955, ends badly for the young woman, torn between her attraction to a tradition male and a half-breed who would keep her in the white world. Recently we have  movies like Samson and Delilah dealing with the alienation of indigenous young people and  "Rabbit Proof Fence" is about the stolen generations, when indigenous children were taken from their families to be brought up in white homes and on mission stations.

So what does all this have to do with Sarah M Anderson.  It is probably about a year ago I first read a Sarah M Anderson book.  She writes about Cowboys and Indians with emphasis on the Indians.  It is because of this that I would class her as an issues writer.  She doesn't beat you over the head with it.  The books are primarily about the romance.   But you can't help learning a little along the way.

All of the books I've read by Sarah have American Indians in strong lead roles.  Women and men who are dealing with the conflict that comes when one group in society is disadvantaged.  That disadvantage can be manifested in many ways, economically, educationally and in most cases, a disparity of power.   They also deal with the dichotomy between fitting into the broader society in order to work with the powers that be and maintaining the links to tribe and culture.

The first book in her new Bolton Brothers series has just been released (what's not to love about men on motorbikes.) This is a totally gratuitous link to a blog that features hot men & bikes & cars.

Straddling the Line by Sarah M Anderson   *****

Sarah M. Anderson has written another of her amazing stories about conflict between cultures and the struggle to find who you are when you are literally 'Straddling the Line'.  I love it when the title of the book can have multiple meanings and this is one of those.

Josey White-Plume doesn't know which side of the line she really belongs.  She's tried living in the white man's world in New York and it didn't work out. So she's come home to the Reservation to try living in her Lakota world.  She is desperate to be accepted as one of the Tribe and is working her darnedest to be the person she thinks will be welcomed.  The last thing she needs is to be attracted to Ben Bolton, a numbers cruncher white guy.

Ben is also struggling to find his place in his own tribe, the Bolton family.  He doesn't quite fit, trying to walk the line between his father's old fashioned obsessions and making their motor cycle business viable in the modern world.  When Josey walks into his life, wanting help for the school she is helping build on the Reservation she opens his eyes to so much more.

How these two interact, the relationship they build is just beautiful to see. Josey and Ben are two very different people but they compliment each other in their strengths and weaknesses.  They have a lot to teach each other and a lot to learn.  Together they are amazing. Together they can straddle the line between two worlds and make it work for both of them.

Romance Novels - Trash or Treasure.

How many times have you heard Romance Novels dismissed as fluff, lightweight and unrealistic?  How many times have you heard the art of Romance writing denigrated as lacking in originality, plot and not real literature?  And what about Romance writers.  Critics can't seem to make up their mind.  They could be wizened spinsters creating unrealistic fantasies or bored housewives trying to inject spice into an otherwise unfulfilled life.  On the other hand, critics suggest they could write one of these romance novels in a weekend.  After all how hard is it to past a couple of cardboard cut out protagonists into whatever is the current trope and turn out something that will sell?   I'd like to see the results of that exercise.

Just today on Twitter, word got around that a library in the U.S planned an Un-Valentine's Day party where romance covers would be "vandalised" in their words, to decorate the lounge.  A library thinks it is a fun thing to vandalise books because they are only Romance novels.  I can hardly wait until Halloween when truckloads of Stephen King novels will be similarly trashed.  Yeah, I believe that's going to happen.

There are a lot of things I could say about the general denigration of a genre that accounts for 50-55% of book sales depending on sources.  First of all is the implied sneer at all those foolish readers, the majority of whom are women.  You must wonder why we were given the vote.

As for the writers.  They range from professional women with careers in the medical profession, academia, accountancy, military, film industry, education, publishing and a whole range of other interesting and challenging jobs.  And yes some of them are wives and mothers.   Some are single, many are married or with partners, some are divorced and widowed.  In other words they come from all walks of life with a vast array of life experiences to bring to their writing.

Now for the books.  Lightweight fluff.  I was joking on Twitter the other day that this year seems to be the Year of Endometriosis in Romance.  I've read several romances in the last few months that have heroine's dealing with the results of this often debilitating disease.  It causes pain, excessive bleeding and can lead to infertility.  Not the stuff of happy endings.

Last year I would have designated as the year of the mastectomy.  A whole batch of books that dealt with cancer survivors and the struggle to make a new life and find love after a blow that strikes at the heart of being womanly.

Other serious issues in books I've read this past year include rape, child abuse, miscarriage, marital abuse, infidelity, loss of a child, loss of a spouse, abandonment, divorce, unexpected pregnancy, surrogacy.  The list goes on.

And we haven't even touched on the men in our heroine's lives.  In the current climate with war coming so close to home we have heroes with PTSD and serious injuries.  And the ever present Alpha male who is an affliction in himself until brought to his knees by the love of a good woman.  Nice to read about but how many really want to live with these guys.

Whatever you think about romance novels, they do not skim over the realities of life.  They deal with the things that real women are facing every day in a world that doesn't guarantee a happy ending.  But in these books women can find hope and courage and inspiration that no matter how dark things may seem...and on page 143 things can be very dark indeed...it is possible to find a happy ending.  And love can mend even the most broken of hearts.

Tis the Season

It's that time of year again.

In our house that means checking all the bunks have fresh sheets for the influx of family.  This year we will have all seven children in the house plus a ring-in attached to No. 5.  No.2's fiancé is missing in action, spending Christmas with his family as his parents are just back from touring the country.   Seriously you don't need an occasion when the whole family is together to have a party, but these days with No.1 in Berlin more often than not, and Nos. 2, 3 and 5 living in Brisbane, it isn't that common to have everyone in one place.

I will probably dig out some favourite Christmas movies, "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Love Actually" and this year I'm thinking of watching "The Holiday" for a little romance with a seasonal touch.  Speaking of Jude Law...  No.7 and I went to see "Rise of the Guardians" at the cinema in the neighbouring town of Warwick.  Jude Law is the voice of Pitch Black aka The Boogyman.  Is there a reason why a British voice does evil villain so very well?  No. 7 thought it was the best Christmas movie she'd seen. It had humour, pathos and lots of good will and a hot Australian bunny voiced by Hugh Jackman.  What more could you ask for?

Still on the subject of Hugh Jackman, I hope to see Les Miserables in the New Year.  I've managed to avoid reading the book and the 'serious' movies for years.  Surely with music and singing it wont be depressing. Nos. 4, 6 & 7 are coming with me to see The Hobbit in 3D at a Vmax cinema in Brisbane on Boxing Day as a special treat.

Christmas reading.  So far I've read Christmas Wishes by Rhian Cahill, a spicy little short set in Australia.  Another Australian Writer with a historical in an English setting is Anna Campbell with The Winter Wife which is a nice little reunion Novella.  I also read and enjoyed Newborn Baby for Christmas by Fiona Lowe,  set in Australia too.  On my Christmas TBR I have a duet by Sarah Morgan Wish Upon a Star and a trilogy of linked stories, A Christmas Letter by authors Fiona Harper, Donna Alward and Shirley Jump.  Intriguing because each of the authors comes from a different country so I'm looking forward to seeing if there are any notable differences considering they are all snowy northern hemisphere stories.

I am in big trouble because I forgot the Baby It's Cold Outside Anthology which I read a while ago.  It's a terrific read from four of my favourite sizzling hot Harlequin Mills & Boon authors, Amy Andrews, Heidi Rice, Aimee Carson and Kate Hardy.  Sorry girls.  Don't know how I could forget those totally Hot guys.  Maybe it was jealousy, maybe I was blocking them from my mind.  Maybe I drank too much Bailey's...

Seasons Greetings

This is the picture we used on our Christmas Card this year created by No.6

DH and myself as Mr and Mrs Claus and the elves from left to right are as follows.

No. 4, No. 6, No. 1, No. 5, No.2, No. 3 and on the floor is baby elf No.7


To finish off, I'll include the 1k short I wrote for the latest Seasonal Themed Writers Challenge on the Harlequin boards. It's a matched set with my other reunion short. It didn't win so by all means finish reading here. 

A big thank you to all those people who have read my blog over the year.

Tis the Season 

The ice clinked and settled, melting slowly in the heat of a late December evening.  Dipping one finger into the glass, Jess swirled the frozen lumps into a whirlpool.  Her mother always said drinking alone was a bad sign.  As usual she was right.  Annoying woman.  She’d been right about everything even til the end.

‘This is my time, Jessica.’

‘That’s just stupid Mum.  You’re only fifty-four.’

Not that she looked it.  Years of fighting for her life, the chemo, the surgeries, the pain.  She looked old.  And tired. 

‘They’ve been fifty-four good years, in spite of losing your father so young.  Don’t hold on Jessica.  You’ve your own life to live.’

Maybe mum hadn’t known everything.  Not that it was her fault.  Oliver still turned up to visit the hospice regularly.  Pretended all was well between them.  He’d moved out a couple of months before the funeral.  That beautiful spring day at the cemetery was the last time she’d seen him.  Doing his duty, standing beside her through the Church Service and at the interment.  His grave expression suited his long patrician good looks.  Cool grey eyes mocked her gently when she had to beg a handkerchief.  She never could remember to bring her own.  Right to the end he did everything expected.  Holding her hand, his long elegant fingers threaded through her small slender ones.  Even letting her bury her face in his shoulder to dampen his dark, well cut suit with her tears.

Right until the end when everyone had gone home and just the two of them remained.  Embarrassed by the memory of how she clung during the service, she’d withdrawn from him, uncertain about his mood.  He stood silent, watchful, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his trousers.  At some point he’d loosened his tie and run his fingers through the pale blond hair giving him a faintly disreputable air.

‘Thank you for all your support, Oliver.  I appreciated you being here.’  He didn’t answer, just stood there expectantly.  ‘Well, I suppose this is goodbye.’

‘Is it, Jess?’

‘You won’t need to come around any more now Mum’s gone.’  That tell tale nerve in his jaw pulsed.  He probably couldn’t wait to get away.

‘True.  I suppose there’s no other reason for us to see each other.’

That hurt.  Hearing him say it finally.  Cautiously, Jess extended her hand.  ‘Friends?’

A strange silver glint showed in his eyes.  ‘Friends?  I don’t think so, Jess.’

Scrubbing her face,  Jess frowned at a brightly clad Santa on a Christmas card.  ‘There’s no need to stare, haven’t you seen anyone drunk before?’

He didn’t respond, his jolly red-flushed face indicated he’d probably been into the Bailey’s too.  Bailey’s on ice.  She giggled.  Bailey’s on a snow cone at the North Pole.  Not sweltering in the heat of an Australian summer.

She could hear bells ringing.  Santa’s sleigh no doubt.  He’d have a hard time getting down the narrow flu of this fireplace.

A figure swam into view.  Not dressed in red.  Not Santa then.  ‘What happened?  Couldn’t Santa make it?  Fancy sending Frosty the Snowman instead.’

‘You’ve been drinking.’

‘Clever, clever Snowman.  Do you think your icicle heart will melt in the heat?’

‘I don’t have a heart remember.  You told me I came fully formed in solid marble.’

‘Marble.  Cold hard marble.  I remember now.’

The tears came, trickling beside her nose.  He’d liked her nose once upon a time.  Liked the freckles,  the ginger curls, even the muddy hazel brown eyes.  Liked the fact she was only as tall as his heart. 

‘I’d forgotten what a maudlin drunk you were.’

‘I’m not mor…maudlin.  I’m just tired.  I’ve been working right up til this evening.’

‘Saving the world from silence at the music store.’

‘Music is very shmoozing.   Soothing.’

‘I think it’s time for bed, Jess.’

‘Didn’t you bring me a Christmas present?’

‘I did, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to receive it.’

The world spun as strong arms scooped her up.  ‘Marble, cold hard marble.’

Daylight illumined the sleeping figure, the milky skin with the smattering of freckles on shoulder and nose.   The kissable lips, the lush curve of… 

‘Oliver?  What are you doing here?’  She pulled the sheet up, hiding the tantalising curves.

 

‘Sleeping.  What one usually does in bed.’

‘Not this bed.’

‘Why not?   This is the marital bed and we are married.’

‘You left.’

His chest tightened painfully at the memories.  ‘You threw me out.’

‘No I didn’t.  Did I?’  Her forehead creased in a frown.  ‘Did I?’

‘I certainly understood “Get out and stay out” to have that meaning.’

‘I didn’t mean it.  I was upset.’  She struggled into a sitting position holding the sheet across her chest.

‘Not surprising.  It is upsetting when your exceedingly heartless husband demands sex of you now and then.  But I think you did mean it.’

‘My mother was dying.’

‘And in my purely selfish male way I thought I was offering you comfort.  I was wrong apparently.’  He could see her eyes studying him.  So much hinged on her response.

‘No you weren’t wrong, Oliver.  I just wasn’t prepared to see it.’

‘You could have just told me you weren’t in the mood.’

‘You said I was immature and needed to grow up.’

‘I cared about your mother too.  You never gave me credit for that, Jess.  You were hurting but so was I.   You were slipping away from me.   Every day you seemed more distant.  It’s hard to be shut out.’

‘I didn’t know I was doing it.’

‘I know.  And every time I pushed, you just retreated more.  So when you told me to go, I went.’

‘Why are you back?’

‘Christmas is the Season for Peace and Goodwill to all men.  I was hoping for a little of that to come my way.’

‘You want to come home?’

‘I would very much like to come home.’

Her hand reached out and her fingers intertwined with his.

‘Tis the Season.’