Christmas Confession by Joan Reeves

If you’ve ever watched a Hallmark Christmas movie, you know what to expect in the background—a snowy winter wonderland. The camera pans out, and you see the exterior of a beautifully decorated home—almost covered with twinkling colored lights—with fluffy white snow falling softly to the ground.

Who wouldn’t love that? Well…me.

Seriously, I do love snow—as long as I’m looking at it in pictures, on television, or in movies like the aforementioned Hallmark Christmas offerings. I attribute my distaste for the real life cold white stuff to the year I lived in South Dakota. Ah, yes. That was an eye-opening experience for this southern girl who longed for a White Christmas every time I heard Bing, Elvis, or any of the dozens of other singers who crooned that holiday song. Instead of snow boots, a heavy parka, a ski mask, thick leather gloves, and long Johns (or Janes), I had high heel fashion boots, a beautiful red wool coat, leather driving gloves, and sexy lingerie.

When I arrived in South Dakota in April, and it was snowing. Of course, this was spring snow which I was foolish enough to believe was what winter would be like.

 I worked in finance at the air force base and had a brand new Mazda rotary engine car we’d shipped from Japan. (Rotary engine vehicles? Yes, that was a thing. Sadly, my car was as unsuitable for the climate as its owner.) I was ready to enjoy being back in the States and in a state that had four distinct seasons.

In South Dakota, nights were cool to cold. Even in August, I wore a jacket to work every day. The temperature began dropping in September, but it wasn’t bad. I decided reports of horrible winters in the Dakotas were greatly exaggerated.

In early November, a winter storm blew in. The temperature dropped, and snow began falling on a Sunday. It was beautiful. I stared out the window and marveled at how it transformed the landscape. The next morning, I discovered the questionable joy of shoveling a driveway in order to get the car out of the garage and onto the street to drive to work. The snow kept falling and falling and falling. I spent a small fortune on the necessary clothes and boots to survive life in what seemed like the Arctic Circle. I also developed skills essential to survival like knocking down the frozen barrier across the end of my driveway created each time a snowplow came down the street and learning which tow truck to call when my car wouldn’t start at five o’clock when I left work. Ah, yes, the good old frozen days.

That November, the temperature continued dropping. In fact, there was a two-week period when the temperature was so far below zero that when it warmed up to zero, everyone went outside in shirt sleeves. From Thanksgiving until the following spring, not a week went by that it didn’t snow—some days very light, some days excruciatingly heavy. When we moved away the following April—surprise!—it was snowing.

In conclusion, let me say I do love snow at Christmas—in movies and photos, but never in real life.

Wishing you all delightful holidays with the weather you love best—whether that’s ice and snow or palm trees and a beach. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Joan also loves Christmas songs by popular rock groups like Last Christmas by Wham with George Michael on vocals. That song inspired her Christmas Romance of the same name.

“Last Christmas is such a sweet story that takes place in a small town. And, how could you resist a book with a dog named Friday that saves the day? Really enjoyable read from beginning to end.” —Denise Reviews

Love at first sight, heartbreak, revenge, redemption, and second chances—Last Christmas has all that plus a dash of humor and a pinch of mystery.

Annabelle gave Rick her heart last Christmas. He stomped on it. This Christmas, Rick’s going to pay!

Last Christmas is a Kindle Unlimited selection.

Joan Reeves—Writing Romance...One Sexy Book at a Time—is a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author of Contemporary Romance. All of her books have the same underlying theme that it’s never too late to live happily ever after.

Joan lives her Happily Ever After with her hero, her husband. They divide their time between a book-cluttered home in Houston and a small house at the foot of the Texas Hill Country where they sit on the porch at night, gaze at the star-studded sky, and listen to the coyotes howl.

Joan Reeves