Pre-order Comet’s First Christmas!

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I’m so excited to finally share Comet with you! This lesbian low-angst Christmas novella was exactly what I needed during this brutal year.

Will a bad Santa ruin the holiday before the reindeer go hooves-up on Christmas Eve?

Claudia
I’ve dreamed of this day for years, and now it’s reality. I’ve been called up for the Big Show. Official Pole phone and email, Naughty-or-Nice login, and upgraded I.D. with my new job title—Comet. In three weeks, I’ll be part of the team flying Santa around the world.

In an instant my life goes from peaceful, if boring, to a blizzard of last-minute flight preparations, route planning, and anxiety-triggering stress.

The moment I meet my P.A., Jillian, her beautiful smile and sparkling blue eyes are an oasis of calm. But I’ve barely got enough time to wonder if her plump lips taste as sugarplum sweet as they look. Disturbing news has popped up on Santa’s radar.

Someone is turning Santa’s most fervent believers into non-believers overnight. If we can’t find and stop this hacker, there won’t be enough reindeer cutout cookies and hot chocolate in the world to restore balance to Santa’s Naughty-or-Nice list in time for Christmas Eve.

Note to reader: What sweet Christmas romance would be complete without reindeer, The Nutcracker, ice skating at Rockefeller Center, and New York pizza?

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Comet’s First Christmas

I’ve been hard at work on Comet’s First Christmas. We’re halfway through edits and I can’t wait for you to read this and see the cover. I’m planning a cover reveal for when I can’t take it anymore because I’m so excited.

Here’s a sneak peek at the opening

Pulling Santa’s sleigh is as prestigious as it gets. When I trained as a potential team member, I knew the odds of ever actually pulling the sleigh were low. But I did let myself fantasize about how one day there would be a knock at my door, and Rudolph would be there to activate me.

Never once did I picture it happening in December.

That would be insane.

I was studying in human form when the doorbell to my home rang. It was probably my mom, trying to get me to date some friend’s daughter. I went to the door, expecting a guilt trip and “the perfect woman” for me to date and eventually produce little calves with for my mother to spoil. I nabbed a handful of hay and took a big mouthful before I nudged the door open with my foot.

It wasn’t my mother.

The reindeer who’d pawed at my door was Rudolph. Rudolph! She wasn’t wearing any regalia, but I’d been a huge fan for years. She used to be Prancer, but became Rudolph when the previous Rudolph retired—job names were permanent, the people filling those positions were not.

I realized I was (a) staring and (b) had a mouth full of hay.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled through the hay, and I hastily ate it. I wished I was in my reindeer form—my human face was burning with humiliation.

“Claudia?”

I forced down the last gulp of hay, feeling the less well-chewed bits scrape my throat as the unpleasant bite made its way down my gullet.

“Y—yes? Am I in trouble?”

Had I posted something online that was in poor taste? Had I done something to disqualify myself as a potential? My brain seized up with anxiety, and I couldn’t find a clear thought.

Rudolph laughed. “No, that was my first thought when I was called up, too, though.”

Wait, what? Called up?

“Excuse me?” I was so confused.

“Claudia, you’re being called up. You’re being asked to help guide the sleigh. Comet can’t fly this year,” Rudolph said.

The world both turned to static. It made my brain pulse.

“Calling me up?” My voice sounded far away, and the world had suddenly gone from static into stark relief. Nothing made sense. Nothing.

Rudolph whuffed in irritation. “Yes, calling you up. Report to the barn in an hour. Unless you’re not interested…” Her voice trailed off, and she tossed her antlers.

“I am! I am interested!” I had to get it out before the opportunity was taken away from me. “I want to!”

Rudolph snorted with amusement. “Okay, you want to do it. Good. Report to the barn in an hour,” she repeated and left. Before she got too far from my door, she turned back. “You’re going to want to hurry up. Only twenty-three days left until the Big Show.” She leapt in the air and bounded away.