What we all love at Christmas: A heart-warming contemporary romance. And today we have a brand new release from Extasy Books that promises to fulfil all our Christmas wishes:
THE LAST CHRISTMAS by SEELIE KAY
First, a few questions for Seelie:
Q.
Why do you write romance?
Because
I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting
relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the
falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.
Q.
Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
I adore
smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a
bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just
hooks me! However, I they have to be paired with strong, independent women who
aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.
Q.
Why did you write “The Last Christmas?”
My father is 94-years-old and as you might expect,
has had a number of serious medical, age-related events. Each time, we were
told to prepare for his death. Each time, he survived. The fact was, my Dad
wasn’t ready to die. And his children and his grandchildren weren’t ready to
let him go either. So I started thinking about terminal diagnoses and how they
are really a best guess, not a guarantee. That, of course, led to thoughts how
a terminal diagnosis often causes people to give up and prematurely mourn the
death of the person who is ill. I wondered how that impacted the outcome. And
because I was preparing to write a holiday book, I also started thinking about
the power of family, and how, time after time, families are capable of creating
miracles.
That led me to “The Last Christmas.” Christmas truly
is a time for miracles, and thought it important that everyone be able to
experience one through the tale of the Wright Family.
Blurb:When the doctors say
there’s no hope, Santa begs to differ. After all, he claims, miracles are love
combined with action to get the desired result. And at Christmas time, everyone
deserves a miracle!
David Wright is dying from cancer.
He is not expected to see another Christmas. At least that’s what the medical
professionals say. Fortunately, Santa begs to differ. After all, modern
medicine is nothing more than a best guess. Santa believes anything is possible
until you give up. When Santa tells David’s wife, Joan, that heaven is full and
she has to keep her husband alive, she is beside herself. She has no medical
skills. How can she save anyone’s life? Set your skepticism aside as Santa
embraces a family already mourning their father’s terminal diagnosis and
teaches them that a Christmas miracle doesn’t always require heavenly
intervention. Sometimes, all it takes is a family with enough love to create
their own. As Santa says, a true miracle is when love combines with action to
get the desired results. And only humans are capable of that. Will Santa’s
words fall on deaf ears? Or will Team Wright find a way to save their father’s
life?
Excerpt:
“It’s
not about you, it’s about him, Joan,” a grumbly voice said. “You’re looking at
this all wrong.”
Joan
turned so fast she almost lost her balance. She glared at the old man who had
spoken. He was around seventy, with ruddy cheeks and twinkling blue eyes. And
thick white hair. Lots of white hair. Flowing over his shoulders,
winding up in a very lush beard. On top of his head was perched a brightly
colored red knit hat. She frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re Santa Claus. Without
the red suit, but clearly, you’re him. I’d know you anywhere.”
The man
bowed and with a smile, said, “At your service.” He gestured toward a park
across the street. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Oh,
no. I’m not going anywhere with you.” Joan shook her head. “I didn’t mean you
actually were Santa Claus. Everyone knows he doesn’t exist. I just meant
you looked like him. You’re just a man who looks like him. I don’t know you.
Why would I…” She glared at him. “You’re not even wearing a red suit. And since
when has Santa taken up armchair psychiatry?”
She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “I must be hallucinating.”
Despite her objections, she followed him across the street.
Santa
laughed. “My dear, I have been dispensing advice since I was old enough to talk
and make people listen. God chose my role a long time ago and I have gotten
very good at it.” He looked toward the heavens. “Sorry, old boy. Still working
on that humility!” He chuckled. “Man never stops reminding me.” He smiled at
Joan. “Do you sense any ill-intentions from me? Of course not. I’m Santa.
All I want to do is talk.”
Joan
reached out and touched his shoulder.
He
laughed again. A laugh that came directly from his belly. “Yes, I’m real. Well,
as real as a centuries-old spirit gets. I even eat all those cookies children
leave me each year. And let me tell you, that’s a heavenly feat.” Again, he
looked skyward. “Yes, sir, I am well aware that borders on gluttony. A sin. You
know darn well it has nothing to do with gluttony and everything to do with the
magic of Christmas, an affirmation that Santa is real. I do it for the
children.” He smiled at Joan. “Sometimes, He gets a little overbearing
with his angels.”
He
smirked. “Even God has his faults. He is by no means perfect.” A strong wind
swirled through the plaza, nearly catching his knitted cap. He clapped his hand
on his head to hold it down. He whispered, “And he doesn’t take criticism too
well, either.”
Joan
stared at the man. Surely, she was losing it. Santa a spirit, an angel? He and
God didn’t even travel in the same circles. She shook her head, trying to make
the hallucination go away.
Santa
sighed. “I know, I know. You’ve been taught that I’m not real. That I’m a myth.
That’s a rumor started by Satan himself, the old devil. He can’t stand the fact
that people embrace the goodness in the world. And that I spread good cheer. He
would much rather unleash a plague and make people miserable. He hates
Christmas. He hates that the birth of Christ is celebrated, and his birth,
well, is not. He really can’t stand the fact that love binds people so tightly
during the holidays.” Santa shook his fist toward the ground. “The fool pouts
all through the holidays.” He then sat up straight and gazed at Joan.
“Christmas is really about love, you know. All kinds of love. The type of love
he’ll never have. Love of family, love of children, love of—”
“What
the heck do you want?” Joan blurted. “People are starting to stare.”
Buy
links:
“The Last Christmas” is scheduled for
release on December 11, 2020 and will be available from all major booksellers,
including--
Extasy Books: Preorder Link Available November 27, 2020
About Seelie Kay:
Seelie
Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years
of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she
writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to
happen! In possession of a wicked pen
and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of 18 works of fiction,
including the Kinky Briefs series, the Feisty Lawyers series, The
Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s
Wife, The White House Wedding, and The President’s Daughter.
When
not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and
other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she
shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet
cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Ms. Kay is an MS
warrior and ruthlessly battles the
disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not
define you!
Author Links:
Keelie's Website
Keelie's Blog
Twitter: @SeelieKay
Facebook
Instagram
Amazonauthor page
Prior Books:
Kinky Briefs
Kinky Briefs, Too
Kinky Briefs, Thrice
Kinky Briefs, Quatro
Kinky Briefs, Cinque
The Garage Dweller
A Touchdown to Remember
The President’s Wife
Snatching Dianna
The President’s Daughter
Infamy
Seizing Hope
Cult
Hope
The White House Wedding
Martimus
