Killarney Traynor's Blog

Jerusalem, circa 33 AD:

Dinah has long struggled to make peace with the violent loss of her only child during Herod's purge of Bethlehem. But the pain, sorrow, and anger remains.

So when the man claiming to be Christ arrives with fanfare in Jerusalem and rumors swirl that He is the child Herod sought, Dinah has a choice. Remain aloof and protect her already battered heart? Or face the Man who changed everything?

A story of enduring love, unspeakable loss, and abiding forgiveness, Rachel Weeps tells the tale of one mother finding the courage to face the past. A short book with a big heart. Pre-Order Now On Amazon.com

Once upon a time in a small American town called Twisted Tree, a serial killer called Father Silence was caught in a house of horrors. 19 bodies were discovered and there was only one survivor: a boy now locked away in an asylum for the criminally insane. Now, two decades later, Father Silence has been executed, setting off a chain of events that no one could have foreseen. Children have been disappearing, bodies are turning up, and a new cult as emerged. Detective Tess Claibourne has a history with Fr. Silence. When her child goes missing, it's up to her and her tight knit group of friends to find her - before the worst happens.

Sleep Tight is a twisty, rapid-fire thriller. At the core is damaged detective Tess Claibourne, who battles inner demons and submerged traumatic memories with pills and alcohol all while watching her marriage go to shambles. When her parents are murdered and her daughter goes missing, she's forced to work with her ex-husband to solve the case before her child is hurt. The core cast - Tess, her husband Justin, their married friends the Gomeses - are solid characters with depth and vulnerability and, despite the many, many, MANY horrors and traumas in this book, there is a strong line of hope and decency throughout that surprised me.

That said, this book is... a lot. There are lots of characters, multiple back stories that twist and turn, and when I say trauma, I mean there is a LOT of trauma - child abuse, kidnapping, murder, torture, mutilation, drug abuse, rape, insanity, multiple houses of horror - you name it, this book has it. One character suffers from multiple personalities and Tess herself deals with submerged memories, an amnesia that protects from the horror of her past (she's initially a very unsympathetic character, which was off-putting.). It's a lot, maybe too much - there are too many characters and so many psycho murderers that someone should really look into the water supply of Twisted Tree. I was exhausted reading this and feel that it should have either been longer or about one third of the plot could have been excised to allow other plot points to be expanded upon and made digestible.

Can I recommend this book? If you like thrillers that border on horror, with a core of true decency running through it and an ending that is complete (if almost too neat), then yes, Sleep Tight is for you. But if you're like me and start to get annoyed after about the fifteen horrible discovery of immeasurable misery (usually enacted on a small child), then stick with Simone St James or Riley Sagar.

Viktor Giles and Angelika Aldrich have been rivals since high school. Over-achievers with razor-sharp wits, they seem to have it all - but each harbors deep feelings of insecurity and both are losers in love. Not that either would ever admit it. So when an old friend goads them in a race to romance (the first one engaged gets a honey moon cruise paid for by the loser!), Angelika and Viktor find themselves in over their heads. But when their rivalry turns into a new kind of chemistry, will either have the courage to admit it?

Lia London's romantic comedy is story about two people who stand in the shadows of familial expectations and their own need to win. Angelika works with the needy and cannot compete with her siblings' more showy talents. Viktor is crushed by his narcissistic father's need for perfection. And both struggle with their own self-images and memories of high school jealousies and torments. 

That's not to say that this book is heavy - quite the contrary. It's light and fun, with laugh-out-loud witty banter and some intense chemistry. (In my opinion, one of the side characters, the snarky and fantasy obsessed roommate deserves her own book.) Although part of a series, the story is self-contained. Clean and quick, quippy and romantic, it delivers the perfect kind of light escapism for a work-day lunch break. Highly recommended for anyone, like me, who just wants a little old-fashioned, classic-screwball-comedy romance.

Synopsis: The Enterprise is in the middle of a month-long study of an anomaly when they are called to what Captain Kirk considers a milk run: escort a convicted killer to rehabilitation. However, this is no ordinary murderer. The convict is Dr. George Moureaux, one of Spock's mentors and a quirky but brilliant scientist who wastes no time in escaping to kill Captain Kirk and some members of the Enterprise crew. Now, Spock and McCoy race against time to catch a killer... BEFORE he strikes.

The Entropy Effect is written by ever capable Vonda N McIntyre and its clear that she has a real love for science and the Enterprise's enigmatic Mr. Spock. When Kirk is killed, he takes the lead, roping McCoy into acting as captain (a hilarious bit that quickly shows how the short-tempered medic is NOT best suited for the captain's chair). Technically, this is a locked-room mystery, but in an universe where light speed, teleporters, holograms, and time-travel exist, it's not too much of a mind-bender. The time travel aspect is handled better, though in a workmanlike manner. All of the team are present, though, of course, not everyone gets equal page time - Scotty and Sulu get the lion's share of the secondary spotlight and, as I mentioned, McCoy as Captain made me laugh out loud.
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This story is an adventure and a murder mystery, but where it really separates itself from the usual Star Trek novel is in the various romantic subplots. There are a LOT of these here, some hinted at, others full-blown subplots. In one, Sulu is torn between his budding relationship with the new head of security and a career-minded transfer off of the Enterprise. (He does get the girl a mild but not entirely closed-door scene.) In the wackiest plot point and a distinct nod to the 1960s mindset, Kirk considers joining a polycule, a sentence that I NEVER thought I'd write. There are, in total, at least 5 different romantic relations alluded to or entertained in an otherwise tightly written book that clocks in at 220 pages long.  Frankly, Jane Austen was less interested in romance than this book is.

That is not to say that I disliked the book - to the contrary, this is a short and fun adventure written by someone who knows and likes the characters and has a good sense of pacing. The balance between romance and danger, humor and ethical dilemmas is perfect. Even though Kirk is down for the count for most of it and there's more romances than an episode of Dynasty, I highly recommend.

Check it out!

Today, I have the honor of interviewing a writer who is not only a big sci-fi, fantasy fan, but is also an adjunct professor of archeology and anthropology. Kurt D Springs writes about the world of the Dreamscape, 1000 years into our future, where a scrappy warrior named Liam discovers his nascent true abilities, his calling to save the world – and the timeless truths about the importance of honor, mercy, and family. (You can read a sneak-peek of Price of Vengeance here!)
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Our Five Questions focus on Kurt’s inspirations, but really, I wanted to know how this modern- day Indiana Jones became a writer! Find out below! 1. You teach anthropology and archeology, with a focus on Neolithic and Bronze Age Ireland. What drew you to this field and how does it inspire your writing? The relaunched version, produced by Black Rose Writing! Ah, therein lies a story.

I was between jobs when I went on an archaeological excavation in Belmont, New Hampshire. I’ve always liked mythology and folklore and had gravitated to Irish mythology. I decided to go to the Harvard Extension School and get a Master of Liberal Arts in Anthropology and Archaeology. While there I took a course in Old Irish, which was spoken in Ireland between A. D. 700 and 900. I got a chance to go on a dig in Ireland and was hooked.

​I decided to go to National University of Ireland in Galway. I earned a Master of Literature in Archaeology. Fun fact: I thought of the initial idea for Price of Vengeance walking back to my apartment toward the end of my stay. I didn’t know whether it should be science fiction or fantasy at the time.

I decided to get my PhD. at the State University of New York at Buffalo. The summer before I started, I began the process of outlining Price of Vengeance. Once I started, I had little time for fiction writing. After I graduated in 2010, I found few opportunities for work. I picked up the outline and started to flesh it out. Over time, I slowly built up a career as an adjunct.

My archaeology is just under the surface of my writing. Underlying my world building are ancient civilizations that disappeared before the current spacefaring species arose, including humanity. 2. Your Dreamscape world is extraordinarily detailed – what inspired you to create it?  My two major inspirations were the late Andre Norton’s Forerunner series and the Halo video games.

Andre Norton’s science fiction often featured ESP powers.

​Halo inspired the military end of things. I also took inspiration from the first F.E.A.R. video game. The protagonist had an ability similar to stepping out of time. People have compared the Dreamscape Warriors series to Star Wars. If it did provide inspiration, then it was subconscious. 3. Family – both blood and found families – form the foundation for a lot of what you’ve written here. How does your family inspire and/or support your work? The second book in the series. This is the original cover (the reissue is coming soon!) and is still available in limited quantities. Family is important to me. My parents have always supported me. Mom helped with a great deal of editing. My brother and sister-in-law did some beta reading. Even my younger niece caught a mistake or two. In one book, my father, a military historian, also provided some advice.

​My father died August 17, 2021, after battling age related illnesses. Mother and I had to take care of him for nine months as his mobility deteriorated. Age has caught up to Mother as well. I live at home so I can take care of her. My brother spots me if I have to teach on a really bad day. 4. There are so many characters in your books, from a wide variety of walks of life. Which is your favorite and why? The original cover - limited copies are still available! That’s a hard one. There is a bit of myself in each character, which is true for any author.

If I may be indulged in being allowed two, it would be Liam and Kergan. This protagonist/antagonist pairing is interesting because they’ve both been shaped by similar events. Liam lost his birth parents and foster parents, ultimately on a traitor’s orders. Kergan lost his parents, siblings, and friends when alliance warships launched an incendiary bombardment on his home planet. He watched friends and family burn to death. They are both men with wounded souls. Liam quickly turned from the path of vengeance. For Kergan, the pain of loss inspires him to allow vengeance to drive him. 5. You’re working on re-releasing your first two books, Price of Vengeance and Promise of Mercy now. What’s next for you? Do you have a new book in the pipeline? I’m also releasing Legacy of Valor this year as well. After reading Price of Vengeance and Promise of Mercy. Mom said, “Kurt, there is a story in between these two.” Legacy of Valor has become the second book in the series. Liam is forced into the role of division commander when the higher ranks are taken out be a hidden explosive. He’s lost his orbital support, and Kergan’s forces out number his six-to-one.

The next two books are Gift of Peace (that title may change) and Mark of Integrity. The first has Liam’s son Aidan trying to get information Kergan’s after to Finnian Military Intelligence. The second is a prequel, taking place 600 years before the events of Price of Vengeance. Bonus: Okay, now the big question: Star Trek or Star Wars? Another complicated one. If you are talking about Star Trek before the J. J. Abrams film and Star Wars before Disney, it’s a hard choice. I liked both equally. I grew up on the Original Series. The Next Generation and DS 9 were intriguing. I never really got invested in Voyager and Enterprise.

Star Wars Legends continuity, as it is now called, was always intriguing, especially the expanded universe. I used to play Jedi Academy all the time. When both “updated” they lost the magic of both.

I did draw technical inspiration from Star Trek. Star Wars lightsaber combat inspired me to research actually fencing moves for plasma blade combat. EVENT! You can meet Kurt in person at the re-launch party of his first book at the Bookery in Manchester on February 3rd, 12:30-2:30pm! Check out their events page for more info! Check out Kurt's website here and 
follow him on social media!

If you're anything like me, you're starting 2024 with some pretty big writing goals in mind. You're ready and eager to get started and I applaud you! To get you started (and to keep you going!) below are three of my favorite books on the art and business of writing. And as always, comment below with recommendations of your own!
Stephen King: On Writing Okay, so full disclosure: I haven't actually read many of King's novels. But this book is one of the best books I've ever read on the art and practicality of writing.  

King starts with his personal success/failure/success story in the first section, giving you a really good idea of how unglamorous the life of one of the world's most successful novelists can be.  It's absolutely fascinating and gives you a real sense of where his much-acclaimed realism comes from. 

For me, though, the real gems are in the second section, where King outlines his best tips and tricks to starting, surviving, and thriving as a writer. It's helpful, frank, and surprisingly uplifting. If you don't have this book, seriously, you need it! Susan Shapiro: The Byline Bible Susan Shapiro is a novelist, writer, and professor whose highly success writing classes spawned two books, The Byline Bible and The Book Bible. In these two books, she distills her years of experience as a magazine contributor and an author and offers practical and oft-times hilarious insights into the industries.

I picked The Byline Bible over The Book Bible for this review only because this book stunned me: not only does she offer clear, easy to follow advice on how to compose, package, and sell your magazine piece, she's had astonishing success with her method. The book is packed with examples of published pieces from her students, who, by now, number in the thousands. (She offers classes on Zoom now - I highly recommend!) If you're looking for some hands-on advice on what to do to get your words out there, look no further: The Byline Bible is your best bet.
William Kenower: Fearless Writing This book is not a "how-to" book. It's a "how-to-be" book. Look, writing is awesome, the best thing ever, but living in your own head is fraught with peril as everyone knows. It's easy enough to discourage yourself, let alone hearing "helpful" advice from people who love to tell you how impossible this field is.

Kenower's book walks through each of your fears and doubts about your ability as a writer and explains how to manage and thrive despite them - sometimes, even using them as fuel for your art. From finding time to write to learning how and when to take critiques, Kenower is knowing, kind, and encouraging. My advice? Don't read this book all in one setting. Take it a chapter at a time on your worst days and let Kenower encourage you to reach for the stars.

Just wanted to wish you all a very merry Christmas and the happiest of happy new years.

​God bless you all, everyone!

    Today, I’m interviewing the big man of the month himself – yes, indeed, it is the one and only George McTyre, opera singer, professor, actor, and professional Santa Claus!
    I met George a few years ago, when he auditioned for my first feature film, Michael Lawrence (Narrow Street Films). Although he was auditioning for a somewhat villainous role (did he do it? I’ll never tell!), George’s good nature, and rich, deep voice shone through and we became friends. 
    Hailing from Texas, George had performed and taught opera and has become an accomplished actor who infuses his characters with depth, complexity, and warmth. But perhaps his best, most beloved role is that of Santa Claus. George has played Santa in a variety of movies, and has performed at Radio City Music Hall, Six Flags New England, and Essex Steam Train and Riverboat, among many other places. I got him to answer 5 questions (plus a bonus one!) – so here we ho-ho-go! (Sorry, couldn’t resist!) 1. You’ve had a wide-ranging and interesting career! Can you tell us more about what you’ve done and where you’ve been?      I always find it strange when colleagues with whom I’ve worked say “Wow, you work so much.” Do I?

   I’ve been extremely lucky to have been able to perform wherever we’ve lived. My wife and I met at Southern Methodist University in Dallas and have lived in Chapel Hill, NC, Waco, TX, Iowa City, IA and most recently New Haven, CT. This has been due to my wife’s rock star career as a university music librarian. (And I am not making this up, she is a rock star music librarian.) Because of her, I have had a chance to perform for a wide range of venues. I was able to sing professionally in Texas while still at university, and expand into musical theatre, theatre, and concert work.

    When we moved to North Carolina, I was able to continue performing and “upped my game” by touring with the sadly now-defunct National Opera Company out of Raleigh, NC. It was a true ‘dog and pony show” company that traveled with 9-10 singers, a tech director and a music director. The singers were double cast, in charge of set-ups and break-downs and we performed an opera almost everyday. It also was a fairly long annual contract of 9 months, with 4-5 operas in repertoire each season, a rarity in the opera world. Years later, I was pleased to learn that I was considered a “team player,” because of my willingness to do anything that was required for the daily running of the organization. It was a great learning experience for singing technique because we were singing an entire opera almost everyday.

    Later we moved to Waco, were I did my masters degree for a ridiculously low figure (faculty spouse tuition remission!) and the day I graduated I wa offered two teaching positions. This also was a milestone, because nothing cements your vocal technique as having to teach university students. I was still able to perform and when we moved to Iowa, again I serendipitously fell into fabulous teaching opportunities and started work on a PhD in vocal literature at the University of Iowa will teaching full-time in the state. (Sleep? What’s that?)

    In 2013, my wife was recruited to be the Director of the Irving S .Gilmore Music Library at Yale University. We moved in the late summer and there were NO teaching positions open anywhere in Connecticut for me. What to do? So I happened upon an actors studio in New Haven, and it was the start of a new career direction. I took all the class offerings and began to find work as an actor, doing some work in films, commercials, theatre, and bit of voice over work. Amazingly fun and not opera, with which I had become increasingly bored. The opera repertoire is extremely limited and one winds up performing the same roles. I simply couldn’t bring myself to do another “Marriage of Figaro,” “Barber of Saville,” or any Gilbert and Sullivan. Acting had become much more varied as a performance medium for me.

​    At this same time, I was cast as Santa Claus in an local production of an original musical and was contacted by a local man who was a Santa Claus, inviting me to have coffee with several local Santas, because they has seen the ads for the show, and didn’t know who I was. I began getting work per their recommendations and one man became my “Santa agent” which led me to Santa work in New England. In addition, I found that there is almost always a Christmas movie being filmed in Connecticut at any time of the year. That led to some background and small roles, and I was able to use my film and commercial training to book some commercial, print and modeling work. It has been a wild ride and it has been amazing the places I’ve gone and an amazingly diverse group of people with whom I’ve met and worked. ​ 2. ​What first gave you the idea that Santa Claus might be a good fit for you?    I’ve always been on the large size (although I’ve lost 140 pounds over the last ten years!) and was blessed with a mostly white beard in my 50s. I also has studied improv with the Actors Gym in Hamden which turned out to be extremely useful when performing Santa. My vocal range also helped. I often get a response when I show up for professional work on a film, a concert, or a commercial of “Oh! You’re a real singer/musician/actor, not just a guy in a Santa suit.”
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   I also think you have to be able to tap into you inner-child and remember what Christmas was like for you when you believed in Santa. I always try to be the one having the most fun in the room at any Santa job. 3. Does your opera background help you with your performance as Santa? (Also: There seem to be a LOT of Santa performers. Do you have a whole Santa crew that you work with?)    Yes, “opera voice” or the ability to project one’s voice is a great asset when doing Santa jobs. Loudness helps. Also the training for opera and theatre helps to project a large personality. Improv and an ability to “read the room” helps to know when to tone things down and not frighten kids who may be a little timid or afraid. It’s not easy meeting Santa Claus for some children!

   I don’t work with any set group of people, but you start running into people with whom you’ve worked before. 90% percent of the time, Santa is a solo act, so when you get that chance to work with elves, reindeer, Mrs. Claus, or any Disney princess, it is a treat! ​ 4. You must have so many amazing and heartfelt stories from your time as Santa – can you share one of your favorites with us? I was coming back to New Haven on MetroNorth from Radio City where I was not the Santa on stage, but the photo Santa in-between shows. I was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, a black coat, black jeans, no Santa glasses. I sat down on the train, and a little girl's face popped up from the seat in front on me. I said hi, and asked her what she was doing on the train. She turned around, and pulled a photograph of the two of us from Radio City! She had recognized Santa!

    Another great moment was one year when I saw the same family at five different events where I was Santa and the little boy in this family yelled, “You are the real Santa! I’ve seen you everywhere!”

    The most difficult Santa moments were on Christmas Day at the Yale Children’s Hospital where I broke down in tears in the hallways after entering hospital rooms and various wards.

​    The most heart-wrenching moment came on the Essex Steam Train one year. The train employees pulled me aside before I entered a train car and told me the last family on that car had a terminally ill baby and to spend extra time with them. They didn’t speak English, I don’t speak very much Spanish, but they wanted photos of Santa holding this child. They cried, I cried, all the elves cried. It was the toughest moment because it lasted longer than many Santa interactions with younger children.  5. ​Alas, this year’s Christmas season is almost at it’s end. What is next for you? Do you have any big plans in the works?     I don’t have any performance jobs lined up for 2024 yet! Why won’t you write me a movie script, Killarney? I keep waiting! I’ll put you on the nice list forever! ​ BONUS QUESTION! Besides yourself, who is the best on-screen Santa and why?     Oh wow! This is a difficult question. I’ll give you my top three. Of course, Edmund Gwenn in “Miracle on 34th Street,” is amazing, and I would have to say might be my favorite. Although I didn’t particularly care for either of “The Christmas Chronicles” movies, I loved Kurt Russel, who looked awesome, gave a different take on the character, and sang Elvis Presley’s “Santa Claus is Back in Town.” A truly amazing performance. For a grumpier version of Santa, Ed Asner in “Elf.” ​ Thank you, George! Carry on with the good work!

Normally on the second Monday of the month, I try to have a book review ready. But this month, I didn't have any Christmas books ready to review (and it seemed like the wrong time of year to review The Exorcist, which I recently finished), so in the absence of a book review, I thought it'd be fun to give you a sneak peek at my December writing challenge: a Hallmark movie-style book featuring Christmas, romance, small towns, and shenanigans - in short, all the sugary good stuff!

Behold, chapter one!  I hope you enjoy - let me know your thoughts!

(Note: this is a work in progress, and has not been professionally edited yet. I try to be pretty thorough in my edits, but apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors.) Chapter One: “Are you sure we don't need another Christmas tree?”

Maggie Roberts walked briskly down the bustling streets, expertly avoiding fellow pedestrians while managing to hold a tray with four different lattes, her over-sized messenger bag on one shoulder, a gaily beribboned-wreath under the other arm, and her cell phone pressed against her ear. She was four blocks from her office and ten minutes late, but as she was the boss, timeliness wasn't an issue. What was an issue was trying to talk into a cell phone while streets fairly screamed with holiday shoppers and Thursday morning traffic.

Perhaps this wasn't the best place to have this conversation. But when you feel as strongly as Maggie did about Christmas trees, you didn't always wait for a better time.

Her question was met with a grunt.

“We have eight already, Maggie,” came Joan Elizondo's dry response. “Even if we could fit more, which I don't see how we could, why would we need another?”

“Because-" Maggie came to a street and stopped just in time to avoid the traffic signal change. “Because it's only eight and there are nine letters in the word Christmas and I think…”

The ‘Don't Walk’ sign changed and pedestrian traffic surged forth. She was pulled along in the wake, jostled left right and center as seasoned city-dwellers mingled with – or tripped over - star-struck tourists, awed by the lights, the towering buildings, the glittering store windows offering everything from delicate French pastries and sturdy German-made wooden toys to the latest American fashions and Asian technology. Underfoot, the pavement was wet and lumps of tired, melting, dirty snow lined the streets. But overhead, lights and decorations filled the sky between the buildings. When night fell, as it would early this time of year, the whole city would light up into a twinkling magical space where, for a moment, the rat race would be forgotten and childhood memories revived.

But that would happen later. That gray and chilly Thursday morning, all Maggie wanted to do was get into her office without spilling her lattes on the outfit that was supposed to take her through the working day into the dinner meeting with a potential client that evening. The coat – long, red, and wool with a princess waistline – wasn't new and was now a little mud-spattered around the hem line. But it was her favorite and, more to the point, went perfectly with her shiny black boots and the brand-new, pine-green sweater dress she'd found only yesterday. It set off her curly blonde hair and green eyes perfectly and when she tried it on that morning, she knew exactly what her boyfriend Felix would say when he saw her in it: “Perfection!”

And then he'd beam in that kind, endearing way he had and she would feel, again, that yes, she'd managed to look the part of the successful business woman that she was.

So she wore the dress and decided that she would also wear it on their next date, which would be tomorrow night.

Now, overdressed, overloaded, and overcrowded, she began to wish she hadn't been so generous that morning.

But she didn’t really regret it. Her team had worked hard that year, pulling miracle after miracle and the occasional latte treat was a small way of thanking them. As for the over-sized wreath… well, she didn't have one for the office and the children from the Boys and Girls Club had been so cute trying to sell them…

She was dragged back into her phone discussion when Joan burst into ringing laughter. “Oh my goodness! Maggie, sometimes I swear, you are a Christmas elf!”

“You think I'm overboard?”

“Oh, honey, you were never even on the ship!”

“I'll have you know, people pay good money for my expert and impersonal decorating expertise!”

But Maggie couldn't help but smile. Joan's laugh, even at long distance, was infectious and before she knew it, she was laughing, too. She had turned a corner, off the main street into a quieter one, with fewer shops and more cafes. Here, despite the weather, benches and outdoor seating areas lined the walkways in front of the eateries. Maggie found a table in front of a restaurant that had yet to open and collapsed into a seat. She dropped her bag and her wreath and carefully placed the lattes on the table.

Joan, on the other end, drew in a long, shuddering breath and sighed happily. “Oh my gosh, I miss you and your insane devotion to the holidays. No one else in River Run even comes close.”

The very thought of Christmas in her hometown conjured a painful lump in Maggie’s throat. She forced her words past it: “What, has my mom gone all normal and minimalist?”

“Oh, heavens, not on your life! She's into Quirky now, so everything she has is a little… odd? I guess? I don't know, like, cute, but in a weird way. She dragged my dad to the Christmas tree lot with her this year and wouldn't let him leave until she found something that was a cross between a Charlie Brown tree and something the Whos would put in their town square.”

“That sounds perfectly like my mom.”

Maggie reached out and traced a heart in the snow on the tabletop. The flakes were soft, already melting away. Snow rarely stayed long in the city. What wasn't removed overnight by an army of dirty city tractors was often bested by the warmth of the buildings and activity. When Maggie felt melancholy, something she seldom allowed, she would think longingly of the long, cold, white winters in River Run, the small mountain town where she'd grown up.

I'll go back someday, she thought. I'll spend a white Christmas there.

The lump in her throat hardened.

“Are you okay, Mags?”

Joan's question caught her off guard. She shook off the melancholy and saw her receptionist, Ally Conley, coming down the street in the opposite direction. She lifted an arm and waved, relieved to have something to distract her.

“I'm great!” she said brightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Mmm hmmm.”

Joan did not sound convinced. Maggie repressed a sigh. Joan knew her as well as any sister would have, almost better than Maggie's own mother did. They had met in kindergarten and quickly became inseparable. They often joked that they were psychically connected, although in truth, they were so familiar with each other that it often took little more than an oddly worded text message for one to know that the other was upset.

It was a connection that Maggie treasured most days. Not today, though, when she was feeling somewhat at odds with the world, although she did not know why.

Ally Conley, her face bright and pink with cold beneath the hoodie, trotted up to Maggie. Maggie handed her the lattes and the wreath and said, “I'll be inside in a minute.”

“Almond or oat?” Ally asked.

“Oat, of course.”

“You're the best boss ever!”

Maggie laughed and waved her off. “Did you hear that, Joanie? I'm the best boss ever!”

“I'm not surprised,” was the dry response. “So, what's wrong, oh great bossy one?”

Maggie waited until Ally was a few steps away before answering.

“Nothing's wrong, really. I'm just…” she struggled for a word.

Sad? But she wasn't sad, not really. How could anyone be sad with a growing business, a tightknit group of workmates, a handsome and thoughtful boyfriend, and Christmas only two weeks away?

Melancholy? Christmas in the city was wonderful, a whirl-wind of parties and decorations and noisy, happy crowds. It was also one of her busiest times at work. Most of the physical decorating and planning for the holidays was already done – shop windows were always planned months in advance and executed Thanksgiving week, usually at night – but there were the odd upscale parties that needed doing and next year's planning to be done. And this year they had taken over the prestigious Forsyth New Years Eve Ball account, a feather in the agency's cap and a potential game-changer career-wise. Frankly, Maggie didn't have time to be melancholy.

Lonely? Oddly enough, that word struck a chord, one she immediately dismissed. How could she be lonely? She was in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world, her calendar was full of invitations from friends, clients, associates, and networkers, as well as her church events. And then, there was Felix, always ready with a dinner invitation or a romantic, impeccably planned date. She couldn't possibly be lonely.

Could she?

“I'm just feeling… nostalgic,” she said at last.

Nostalgic was good. It was truthful, if not fully, and it was a safe word. A sentimental word, but a distant one. Everyone felt nostalgic. But hardly anyone did anything about it.

She went on, “You know – the holidays, the decorations, the food. It makes me think of Mom and you and the way holidays used to be.”

Okay, that admission was unexpectedly hard. Even as she spoke, the lump in her throat grew to an almost painful size.

Ten years in, she thought ruefully, and I'm still homesick.

She found herself wishing that she hadn't put on make-up that morning, so that she could rub her suddenly burning face with snow. Instead, she tilted her head up to the sky, where a few flakes fell like kisses on her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Words that her mother had said, back when Maggie first told her of her desire to move to the city.

“You're making your dreams come true,” she'd said, holding both of Maggie's hands in her own as she spoke. “There's nothing more important than that.”

In the moment, it had seemed truthful. Now, on the brink of those dreams and years of work coming to fruition, Maggie found herself wondering.

Joan didn't answer right away. A long beat of silence stretched until Maggie couldn't stand the silence anymore.

“What, did I stun you?” she asked, lightly.

She pushed herself off the chair and started walking towards her office. Around her, the relatively quiet street was starting to wake up. The first restaurant workers were unlocking their doors or brushing off tables. A few children raced down the street towards the bus stop. And, right on time (if by on-time, one meant fifteen minutes late), Colin Taylor, Maggie’s chief assistant, was striding down the street towards their office building, his narrow face bent low over his iPhone.

“Well…”

Joan was hardly ever shy with her opinion and this hesitation made Maggie dread the next sentence.

“You can always come home, you know,” Joan said at last. “River Run hasn’t gone anywhere. We’re still here and, if the tourists are to be believed, we are actually a pretty nice bunch. Just sayin’. You can come home.”

Each word was like a brand in Maggie’s heart.

It isn’t that simple, she wanted to cry. It just isn’t that easy!

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t even reassure Joan that she did, honestly, want to see her best friend again, that she missed Joan every bit as much as Joan missed her.
But Christmas in River Run?

No.

Impossible.

Because River Run, in her mind, didn't only mean home and her mother and her best friend. It meant memories – it meant James.

Her eyes stung.

Stop it! You're over him!

She drew a breath. “I’d love to, Joanie, but…”

“But Felix finally proposed?”

“What?” That shocked Maggie and her answer was aggressive and quick: “No!”

"No?” Joan sounded surprised. “Really? Why is he dragging his feet?”

I'm not ready…

The answer was almost out of her mouth before she stopped it. Because if she said that, Joan's next question would be “Why?” and Maggie didn't have an answer to that. Felix was perfect. So why did the idea of a ring fill her with trepidation?

Once again, she went with the safe answer: “We haven’t been going out long, Joan and-”

And once again, Joan countered: “Two years? Long enough at your age.”

“My age…?”

“Anyway,” Joan said airily, “if you aren’t even engaged to him, why not come home to your family for Christmas for once?”

“Joan! Come on, you know…!”

Joan cut in - “Yes, yes, yes, I know. ‘It’s my busiest season of the year, Joanie, and, anyway, I’ll see you on New Years!’ But I would like to tactfully point out that New Years is not Christmas and anyway, isn’t it about time that you dragged your fancy-pants lawyer boyfriend down here to see what the fuss is all about?”

“Felix? In River Run?”

Maggie couldn’t help but laugh. Joan, who had only met Felix once, when she came into the city for a girl’s weekend, naturally took this the wrong way.

“We aren’t that terrible, you know!” she said defensively. “He might actually like the hicks, once he got to know us.”

Maggie shook her head helplessly, then realized that Joan could not see it. “Oh, no, Joan, it’s not River Run! It’s Felix! Oh, he wouldn’t be able to stand a week of it.”

“What kind of a snob-?!”

“He is not a snob!” Now Maggie was on the defensive. How did one explain a man like Felix? Who was kind and sensitive and a cracker-jack lawyer with a steel trap for a mind and yet could not handle an overflowing toilet without running out to throw-up? Who was an excellent cook allergic to almost everything? Who had moved out of his apartment because he saw a mouse. Who couldn’t help but be right about most things, having read the encyclopedia as a child – twice. He wore expensive suits and, despite being a decent athlete, had been stunned and shocked when Maggie, in a fit of childish excitement, clocked him with a fluffy snowball.

He wouldn’t know what to do in River Run – and they wouldn’t know what to do with him.

“He’s… delicate,” she said finally, lamely.

“Melts in the snow?”

“He’s a city-man, through and through,” she returned. “I doubt he’s ever driven on an unpaved road, let alone shoveled one.”

“We do have paved roads here now. And electricity.”

“He’s allergic to horses.”

“Um, horses stay in their paddocks. They don’t exactly jump you in the alley ways that, by the way, we don’t have here.”

Maggie sighed. “Joanie…”

“Just invite him to the dance! There’s still plenty of tickets left and he’d only have to stay the one night. Heck, no one is using my Airbnb, I’ll give it to him, free of charge!”

“Joanie…”

“It’s completely horse and nut free and I promise he’ll have Wi-Fi so he won’t miss out on any zoom conferences with the Big City Judges. He’ll love it, we’ll love it, it’ll be great. Come on, Maggie, come home, please. I know she doesn’t say it, but your mother misses you.”

“My mother knows I’ll be home for New Years. And we talk almost every day.”

Joan groaned.  “That’s not the same and you know it.”

Maggie growled, “I know, Joanie, but I can’t.”

“We all miss you – I miss you. It just isn’t the same since you left and, anyway, I don’t know how you can expect me to do the dance floor decorations without you.”

“You’ll be fine!” Maggie protested, but Joanie went right on as though she hadn’t heard:

“And we’ve gotten the biggest tree for the town square and you should see what the high school kids have done with the decorations! They bested anything we ever did. And we’ve expanded the coffee shop, Dad and me, and we are doing a caroling night with Rick on the piano and you should be here! I know Christmas is hard on you, but it’s been, what, twelve years and surely you can-”

“I can’t.”

Maggie’s voice was sharp, brittle, almost angry. She was standing in front of her office now, pacing as Joan had rambled on and on, fighting herself, fighting her memories, fighting her own desires, but that last comment was too much. Joan was one word away from talking about James.

Joan immediately stopped talking and in the silence that followed, Maggie heard her own rampaging heart and realized that she’d sounded far angrier than she’d meant to. She had sounded worse than angry. She’d sounded cold.

All this time, she thought, and I still can’t talk about it. What kind of person does that make me?

The silence stretched out. Neither hung up. Both knew that they wouldn’t. Many years ago, when it became apparent that their vocational choices were going to put them into different colleges, the high-school-aged ‘sisters’ had made rules:

One: Call each other at least once a week.

Two: Never end a conversation on bad terms.

Three: Tell each other everything.

As far as Maggie knew, she’d never broken them. Until… well, whenever coming home for Christmas came up.

Two out of three, Maggie thought. I can at least do two out of three.

“I’m sorry, Joanie,” she said softly. “I really am.”

A beat. Then, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just…” a break in her voice “I really do miss you, Mags. It’s like… a part of me is missing when you aren’t here for Christmas.”

“I miss you, too. Really. I just…”

Can’t. I can’t go home again. I can’t go back and get hurt again. Not even for Mom. Not even for you. Loneliness is better than that.

“You have to look after you,” Joan interrupted her thoughts. “You have to do what’s best for you. I know that. I want you to, you know, live your life. But I want you to know, too, that whenever you’re ready, we are here. You can always come home.”

Maggie’s heart warmed.

“I love you, sis,” she said.

“I love you more.”

Maggie’s phone buzzed. When she pulled it away from her cheek, she saw a text from Ally: “Conference call with Audra Forsyth in ten minutes.”

Comfort washed over her like a wave. This was work – work was something familiar, something safe, something tangible and controllable. She was at her best when she was at work. Which, perhaps, said more than she cared to acknowledge about the rest of her life. But then again, not everyone was lucky enough to make a living doing what they loved and Maggie prided herself on never forgetting how blessed she really was.

She put the phone back to her ear in time to hear Joan say, “Work calls?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a big meeting today about that big society event on New Year's Eve. Which reminds me: I know exactly where to put the 9th tree, thank you very much – I’ll alter the layout and send it to you by noon.”

Joan laughed and in her laughter was the reassurance that all was, truly, well between them.

“Go and slay the day, kid,” she said.

Maggie smiled.

“Go and make the world a better place,” she responded as she always did.

The two chosen sisters hung up and Maggie put her shoulders back, her head up, and pasted on a big smile.

​It was time to go and conquer the city and make her dreams come true. ​