After a Christmas Eve catastrophe that left her heart encased in ice, Sierra Goodwin detests anything to do with winter and the holiday season. To take her mind off her troubles, her best friend talks her into a weekend spa getaway to a town she’s never heard of. Her bestie’s boyfriend tags along like a bumpy third wheel, and things go from bad to worse when they arrive in town to find a winter fest in full swing. Then Sierra runs into a handsome stranger, a man everyone calls Mr. Snowman, and discovers her heart might not be a frozen fortress after all.
Kylan Snow loves his life, his Christmas tree farm, and the town of Pinehill where he was raised. There’s nothing he enjoys more than a beautiful winter afternoon spent outside in the crisp, fresh air, or time spent with friends and family. When he unexpectedly encounters a dimple-cheeked woman in need of a little hope, he has no idea one weekend with her with completely alter his world.
Will their winter wishes for a forever sweetheart come true? Find out in this sweet romance brimming with laughter, snowmen, small-town charm, and love.
The basis for my soon-to-release sweet winter romance The Snowman’s Sweetheart started in an unexpected weekend adventure Captain Cavedweller and I had a few years ago. He had a rare weekend free that January and suggested we head out of town for a romantic getaway.
Sounded great to me, so I giddily packed my suitcase and made a hotel reservation in the mountain town several hours away that promised a weekend of winter festivities and plenty of fun. I had grand visions of being snuggled up by a cozy fire in our room, watching snow fall outside the window, or maybe taking a sleigh ride.
The drive to get to the town was harrowing on slick roads, leaving us both a little on edge before we ever arrived at our destination mid-afternoon.
The weather had warmed just enough to turn the snow that had been falling that morning into rain. The streets and sidewalks were covered in inches-deep icy slush. Piles of snow made driving anywhere nearly impossible, and we arrived at the hotel to discover they’d somehow misplaced our reservation. We ended up in a cramped little room, no fireplace, next to the elevator that sounded like it was hauling mining equipment instead of humans as it groaned and squawked with each trip up and down. The parking lot at the hotel was like an ice rink, and we glanced out the window of our room just in time to watch a car sliding straight for our pickup. Thankfully, the driver got it stopped before it hit us, but the near-miss added to our anxiety.
Because walking was easier than driving and trying to find a parking place (which was akin stumbling across a rainbow with a pot of gold), we bundled up and headed out for dinner. We both had insulated, waterproof boots, but when you are trudging through slush that comes up over your ankles, that cold still bites right through you. There were soooo many people there (it was a festival weekend, after all), that people were literally elbow to elbow on the sidewalk. There were lunatics running around in shorts and flip flops with lips turning blue from the cold, and even a few crazy parents trying to shove strollers through the mucky mess, splashing their children and making the babies scream.
We finally made it to a restaurant that had one open table – close to both the door (so we got all the frigid drafts) and the restroom (which smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks). It took forever to get our meals, the orders weren’t right, and someone who’d had a little too much to drink spilled beer all over me on their way past our table.
Any visions I’d entertained of the weekend being romantic and wonderful were long gone, flattened somewhere in the nasty slush covering the sidewalks.
We finally made it back to our room where I changed out of my smelly clothes and hovered near the heater, wishing we’d never left home. CC and I decided to stick it out and make the best of it. He cracked a joke, and I laughed, and things suddenly seemed a little better.
And that’s when I tucked that experience into my “this would be great in a book” file. I couldn’t stop thinking about a girl coming to the town, just wanting a peaceful, relaxing weekend and having some of the same experiences we’d endured.
So, that’s where the idea for Sierra Goodwin’s rather unpleasant first day in the fictional town of Pinehill came from!
And like Sierra in the story, the next morning when we left the hotel to explore, the sun was shining, snow coated the world in a fresh blanket of white, and the weekend once again held the promise of adventure and fun.
He pulled back onto Main Street and drove past the edge of town. At a huge, hard-to-miss bright red sign with white lettering that read Snow Acres Trees and Reindeer, he turned right onto a plowed road.
“No way,” she said, tossing him an excited glance as he drove around a slight curve and they came upon a fenced enclosure, where half a dozen reindeer nibbled on hay. “You have reindeer!”
He chuckled as he backed the truck up to a sprawling barn. “I do have reindeer. Want to meet them?”
“Yes!” she said, barreling out of the vehicle the moment he stopped. She wanted to race over to the fence but instead walked around to the back of the pickup where Ky moved the bags of feed onto the tailgate. “Is that for the reindeer?”
“Yep. I mix up my own blend of food for them with oats, herbs, and other nutrients they need. Just give me a minute to unload these bags, and then we’ll visit the reindeer.”
Before he could hop out of the pickup, two young men appeared and started helping him carry the heavy sacks of feed.
“Some of my hired hands,” Ky said, introducing her to the boys. “They’ll be here all day, keeping an eye on the reindeer and greeting any visitors.”
When the feed was unloaded and stored in the barn, Ky walked over to an old refrigerator and pulled out a handful of carrots. “If you feed them, they’ll be your friends for life.”
Sierra forgot all about how much she despised anything to do with Christmas as she leaned over the fence, feeding the reindeer carrots and patting them on the neck.
“What are their names?” She cast a glimpse at Ky, then returned her attention to the reindeer.
“Doc, Sleepy, Bashful, Grumpy, Happy, and Sneezy.”
“Seriously?” she asked, giving him a disbelieving glance.
“Seriously. I let the pastor’s kids name them.”
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interesting
ReplyDeleteI love the cover art. Sounds fantastic!
ReplyDeleteSounds like a great book :)
ReplyDeleteThis book sounds wonderful, love a good wintertime romance!
ReplyDelete