Susan Welcomes Guest Blogger Christie Ridgway

You know how there are certain authors whose books you rush to purchase the minute they hit the shelves? Christie is one of those for me. I LUV her stuff and can hardly wait for each new release.

This is clearly my lucky month. MUST LOVE MISTLETOE is in bookstores as we speak.(I found mine on the New Books tower at B&N) And then the day after Christmas? Fuggedibout fighting the crowds in search of a bargain that's probably only on sale in the first place because no one else wanted it. If you simply must subject yourself to that stress, at least treat yourself to a copy of NOT ANOTHER NEW YEAR'S while you're out and about.

Until then , please welcome today's guest blogger.

Hit, it, Christie!

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Thanks for letting me visit here, everyone! I’m a fan of the blog and a big fan of the authors, so it’s like an early Christmas present for me to be at Running With Quills. Thanks so much.

As Susan mentioned I have a book out this month and next month too, which would put me in a tizzy anyhow, and then it’s the holiday season as well. But face it, can Christmas ever go smoothly? I have an added complication in that my older son was born on December 22nd. So I shop, shop, shop and never stop, it seems. And still, there are things left undone or ways in which I wished I’d done better. You too, right?

So in the spirit of giving, here are my Christmas confessions that I hope might make you feel less alone about being less-than-perfect this holiday season.

I threw away the stickers that belonged on the Mega-Motor Mountain one year. It was this cool, gigantic contraption that we'd bought. Hot Wheels cars roar down its tracks, through the mountain and out the other side in a loop-de-loop. We put the two boys to bed, finally got them to sleep, and dragged out from hiding those “Santa gifts” that we were going to leave under the tree. (In our family tradition, they are unwrapped.) My husband went about putting together a tricycle and some other items, while I discovered that the Mega Mountain needed assembly as well. A lot of assembly. Santa’s helper was tearing her hair out when she finally got to the six sheets of stickers that put “Yield” and “Stop” on all the little signs I’d stuck all around as well as black-and-yellow markings on the miles of guard rail. Santa’s helper tossed them in the dying fire and never told a soul…until now.

The following year, I did the same thing with the Jurassic Park Adventure Set.

The four-foot tall, tacky plastic Santa that my mom gave us sat for year after year on our front porch until—oops!—it somehow got mislaid in the trash bin and was taken away before I could, um, save it. Luckily, no one recalled the incident when the very same thing happened at Halloween this year to the Frankenstein decoration that I unaffectionately named “The Head.”

I don’t like the cranberry frappe that is a holiday staple in my husband’s family and one year when they weren’t joining us I assured my mother-in-law that I made the stuff and it was enjoyed by all.

The robe, slippers, and pretty sweater that were under the tree last year with my name on the tag? I bought them and wrapped them myself. Nobody in my family (all guys, natch) noticed or asked who they were from.

This year I’ve already bought myself a gift card from Starbucks and am looking for a lovely gold necklace. I hid in the garage the box of ugly ornaments that no one really likes but feels obliged to hang on the tree anyway. And on eBay, I paid too much for a Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer train (and I’m afraid it may be as tacky as the long-gone Santa and The Head).

Hmm…gifts for myself, the loss of some sad decorations, and more plastic tackiness. It may be the perfect Ridgway Christmas after all!

And the truth is, I do love the season. I poured some of that holiday spirit into MUST LOVE MISTLETOE, which is all about a woman who considers herself a Ms. Scrooge but is forced to face her real feelings about the holiday as well as her ongoing feelings for the Bad Boy Ghost of her Christmases past. NOT ANOTHER NEW YEAR’S is about a woman who impulsively lets a brooding good-looker take her to bed on New Year's Eve--only to find out the next day that her life is now more complicated than ever before. I hope you’ll look for them!

In the meantime, do you have any confessions to share? C’mon, surely I’m not the only one who has hidden the box of candy given to the entire family so that only I can eat the delicious chocolates? (And think about it, I’m just protecting their teeth!)