Spotlight & Giveaway: Dear Santa by Nancy Naigle

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Nancy Naigle to HJ!

Hi Nancy and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Dear Santa!

 
Thank you so much for having me back. This has turned out to be such an exciting year and I can’t wait for readers to see their old favorite Christmas books on Hallmark, and snuggle up with my latest release too.
 

Tell us about the book with this fun little challenge using the title of the book:

Dear Santa is a retelling of “You’ve Got Mail” except instead of bookstores in the big city we have a precious Christmas store on the Outer Banks of North Carolina in the town of Pleasant Sands. This store has been in Angela Carson’s family for generations. Her great-great grandmother and grandfather had been the lighthouse keepers up until it was decommissioned. That’s when the family bought the building at auction. Angela’s great-great grandmother was widowed and hanging on to history she bought the old lighthouse at auction and ended up making Christmas ornaments from all of the leftover wicks and materials left in the lighthouse so that she could raise money for her children’s Christmas gifts. Heart of Christmas in the lighthouse is a cornerstone of the town. Now the big bad Christmas Galore has moved into town and Angela’s business is suffering. An innocent letter to Santa to appease Angela’s niece gets the ball rolling when what she expects will be an auto-generated response begins getting real answers. Although their public relationship is quite rocky, there is a connection through the letters that breaks through the exterior conflict between these two.

What’s your favorite line(s) from the book?:

The only thing Geoff liked about Christmas was that it made money roll into his bank account like a tsunami.

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

Angela Carson was raised by her grandmother and she is walking in her shoes. I love how much family and tradition mean to Angela. Now, Geoff Paisley is a smart businessman. He’s a bit too much all business and part of that is his partnership with his mother who is hiding from her own past relationship scars. Geoff is broken, but we see him grow and I just love how he comes clean with Angela.

Angela is first attracted to Geoff when she sees him in The Crabby Coffee Pot just across the way from her store. She’s taken by how together he is, well-dressed and handsome. She can’t get her mind off of him. Here’s the snippet:

Her eyes followed the line of the man’s sharply creased dress pants to his leather loafers. Nice shoes said a lot about a man. So many of the beach guys around here opted for sneakers or flip-flops year-round. That drove her nuts. Didn’t they know grown-ups were supposed to wear real shoes?
She lifted her gaze, to see him looking directly at her. Their eyes locked. Even from here she could tell his were blue. As blue as the starched button-down dress shirt he wore. And for a moment she felt unable to look away.

He on the other hand is definitely taken by her, but he’s kind of fighting it. He’s been moving from town to town and not getting serious and pretty happy with that lifestyle. Here’s where we see him flustered:

Finally Chandler stopped and waved a hand in front of Geoff’s face. “What’s up with you today?”
“What?” Geoff asked.
“My point exactly. Did you hear a thing I just said?”
“Yes. I was listening. Sales are good.”
“The last thing I said was we’ve sold a thousand units of pickled peppers.”
“Do we sell pickled peppers?”
“Exactly my point.”
“Oh. Maybe I wasn’t clinging to your every word.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Fine. I was just thinking about something I saw this morning.”
“In the paper? I thought our ad looked great.”
“More like something I saw while I was looking around the paper.” He leaned forward, feeling that same rush as at the cafe. “I was in the coffee shop and as I turned the page I caught sight of this woman.”
“A woman, huh.” Chandler’s lips curled into a smirk. “As long as I’ve known you I’ve never seen you sidetracked by a woman. Look at that grin. This one must be special?”
“Don’t know her, but she’s . . . different.”
“And you could tell that across a crowded room?”
Geoff punched Chandler in the arm. “Funny. But yes. I could tell.”
“She must be pretty?” Chandler said.
“Oh, very pretty with this big smile . . . and her eyes. Even across the room her eyes were as dark as chocolate. Melted chocolate, the way they sparkled.” He licked his lips. She probably tasted sweet too.
“Okay, don’t you ever say something like that again. You sound like a romance novel.”
“Stop it.”
“You’re smitten,” Chandler teased.
“Smitten? Now who’s talking like a romance novel?”
“Yep. You’re eat up with it.” Chandler slapped his shoulder. “About time you did something for yourself. What’s her name?”
“Didn’t talk to her.”
“What? You didn’t talk to her?” Chandler took a step back. “You’re this distracted by someone you didn’t even talk to?”
“I know.” Geoff inadvertently hunched his shoulders as he put a slice of pie on his plate. It had made a lot more sense before he said it out loud. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. “Crazy, isn’t it? But there was something about her. Something that kept my attention. I’ve never had that happen before.” And even right now he could picture her clear as day.
“You should have invited her over for dinner.” Chandler grabbed a plate and heaped a large wedge of pumpkin pie onto it, then squirted a dollop of whipped cream on top. “Or at least dessert.”
Should have, Geoff thought. “She’s probably married with children.”
“Was she wearing a ring?”
“No.”
Chandler tossed his head back with a hearty laugh. “So you looked.”
“Stop it.” Geoff pushed past him. “Yes. I noticed. Now give me those numbers again.”
An hour later Geoff had finished running through the numbers at all of the stores, and sent Chandler to communicate a couple of red-light-special sale items in two of the lagging locations to help boost their figures. All in all, they were on track to beat today’s goal already. Best of all, he’d been able to finish that meeting and get away from Chandler without any more talk about the woman in the coffee shop.
He didn’t even know her name, and she was already causing unpleasant moments.

When you sat down to start this book, what was the biggest challenge you faced? What were you most excited about?

I’m love the movie “You’ve Got Mail” so it was exciting to feed off of it, but I knew there’d be a challenge. I couldn’t make the story too similar, but I didn’t want to risk missing that sweet spot that makes the banter between the adversaries so good. It’s a romantic comedy, and that was a new focus for me. I was excited about the cover. I got the design much earlier than usual and it just seemed so perfect.

What, in your mind, makes this book stand out?

Dear Santa is a standalone novel…for now. I’d LOVE to write their wedding. It may just be a little freebie I toss out next year to satisfy myself and curious readers. Stay tuned. I’m not ready to let go of Geoff and Angela. Their relationship may have started off rocky, but it’s rock solid in the end.

The First Kiss…

He touched his hand to her cheek. “We both fell in love in Pleasant Sands.”
“You mean with Pleasant Sands,” she corrected him.
“No, Angela. I mean I fell in love here.”
Her brown eyes sparkled. Her head slightly tilted.
“With you.”
Angela said, “I so wanted to believe that. I was afraid . . .” The words seemed to catch in her throat.
“I want to jog on the beach with you—” He had almost forgotten. “Hang on.” He ran to the trunk of his car and came back with a bucket in hand. “To collect shells along the shore together. I want to buy you flowers just because it’s Tuesday, wake up to your smile and go to sleep knowing you’re nearby. I look forward to every tiny piece of trivia you tell me.”
She slapped his arm playfully.
“I’m not kidding.” He took her hands into his. “You light up when you talk about this town. The new job . . . it suits you, and that makes me happy. Your eyes dance, and you get this little dimple right there on the right side of your chin when you’re really excited. It’s cute. I want to be the reason for those smiles.”
“You are.”
He pulled her into an embrace, a bit awkwardly at first. “Angela Carson, will you spend Christmas with me?”
“Yes.”
“And can I be your Santa every Christmas to come?”
She looked up at the hat, clearly recognizing the holly. “Dear Santa. Most definitely.”

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

Not yet. Fingers crossed! I’d pick this scene because I think it showcases the banter and the hurdles these two are going to have to get over even though their initial chemistry is so strong.

“It’s crystal clear now,” Angela said. “You had a perfect view of Heart of Christmas from your seat at The Crabby Coffee Pot, didn’t you? Oh yeah, you gave me that handsome blue-eyed gaze like it was an unexpected meeting.”
“But we haven’t met.” Geoff had a weird look on his face, like he was confused or thought she was crazy.
Every fiber in her body warned her. That smooth act wasn’t going to work with her.
“We may not have been introduced officially, but that didn’t keep you from stealing my idea.” She leaned in toward him, her words cutting as her jaw tightened along with every muscle in her body. “The billboard one block from my shop?” She flung her arms in the air. “Then this one day after I opened Snow Valley?”
“This?” His look was incredulous. “You didn’t invent snow. And this . . . is what we do. Give our customers what they want.”
“Oh yeah. Like trinkets that’ll break before the holiday is over.”
“And who really cares anyway? They don’t make anything like they used to.”
That was his rebuttal?
“Christmas is just one day out of the year,” he said. “You can buy ten of my holiday decorations for the price of one of yours. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Don’t belittle the importance of Christmas,” she said. “I sell quality products. One of a kind. Traditions that hold family memories together made by artists right here in the United States. You can’t put a price on that.”
“But you do, don’t you?” His eyebrow cocked. “A quite high price too.”
“And you don’t care about the value you’re offering to your customers.” She rocked on her heels. “I do.”
“Are you saying price is the only guide to value?”
“Maybe it is.” She’d made her point. Score!
“So, let me be sure I understand.” He spread his stance, getting down to her eye level. “You’re saying a four-year-old enjoying a ten-cent sno-cone has no value?”
She searched for a response.
But he wasn’t finished. “If making memories is so valuable, I’d argue my sno-cones will be fond memories for lots of kids, and I don’t care if their parents spend half their paycheck on cheap trinkets that may or may not make it through the holiday while their kids slurp cheap sticky syrup . . . then so what?”
“That’s just the kind of thinking I’d expect from you. You’re only interested in filling your pockets. You are nothing but a money-hungry . . .” She couldn’t even complete the sentence. “You don’t care about the people of this town at all.”
“Look at this crowd. They look pretty happy to me. No one is making them buy anything. But I see a lot of Christmas Galore shopping bags.” He raised a finger and started counting. “One. Two. Three. Four. There have to be eighty just in plain sight.”
“Flimsy plastic bags that can fill a bird’s stomach until it ultimately starves to death, or chokes marine life, and if they survive that the plastic breaks down and passes toxic chemicals through the food chain right to our dinner plates. Yeah. Thanks so much for that.” She pulled her lips into a tight line. “You!” She stabbed a finger in his direction. “You are an irresponsible oceanfront merchant, and you are a thief. You stole my idea for snow at the beach. And you are just riding on Christmas’s coattails for a buck.” Her eyes began to tear. She could not— would not—cry in front of him.
“Well.” He was flustered. “Business is about bucks. Or is that news to you?”
She growled in frustration. “No.” She thrust her hands to her sides. “You . . . you are nothing but a suit. All you care about is money. There is much more to Christmas and this town than money.”
“I will not apologize for focusing on my bottom line. Something, truth be told, that you probably should have done a better job of.”
She gasped. How could he? “You don’t know anything about me or my business.”
“Au contraire, my dear. I’ve done my homework.”
“Do not call me ‘dear.’”
“I know that little shop of yours has been in your family since the early 1900s and still pretty much operates that way. Do I need to recite your revenue too? Or how about that I know you pride yourself in being a part of the fabric of this community? Well, my dear, your fabric is as outdated as wool underwear.”
A hundred things reeled through her mind, but before any of them passed her lips, SPLAT!
She screamed, reaching for her face, where an icy snowball had just smashed into her shoulder and ricocheted off of her cheek.
She worked her jaw. Nothing seemed to be hurt except for her pride.

If your hero had a sexy-times play list, what song(s) would have to be on it?

I’m not a play list girl, so I have no idea. Can I share something else? How about a couple of dream cast actors for this movie? As I wrote the book I pictured, Lacy Chabert as Angela Carson. The other is for a secondary character. His name is Virgil and he works for Christmas Galore. He is Geoff’s mother’s best friend, and had been Geoff’s father’s best friend. I have Sam Elliott right down to his sexy moustache and deep gravelly voice in that role. Going so far as to name him Virgil after the role I fell in love with him in Tombstone. Yes…I’m feeling a bit flush just thinking about that. Who needs a sexy play list?
The list of hot Hallmark dark haired hunks for the role of Geoff was too long to even battle over. They are all great. LOL. I had Matt Long in Christmas Joy and Ryan Paevey (General Hospital) in Hope at Christmas…this Writer Girl is feeling pretty happy about those cast picks already.

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

That sometimes what we cling to, or fight so hard for, isn’t even what we really want. Allowing yourself to take a chance on a new way of thinking, of celebrating, of sharing your life just might bring more happiness than you could ever imagine.

What are you currently working on? What are your up-coming releases?

Right this minute I’m focused on the release of the last two Christmas books being on Hallmark Channel this season. It’s been so exciting to get to go and spend time on set while they were filming in Vancouver this past May and again in September. Christmas Joy will be on Hallmark Channel on 11/3, and Hope at Christmas premieres on Hallmark Movies and Mysteries on Tuesday, 11/20. I’m super excited that St. Martin’s Press rereleased Christmas Joy in mass market paperback and it’s available everywhere. You can pick it up for 5.99 most places.
Oh and another teensy bit of good news. All three of my St. Martin’s Press novels will be out in audio this fall for the first time. Super excited about that.
As far as upcoming releases, I’m really excited about a Valentine’s book for Hallmark Publishing come out in January. It’s called The Secret Ingredient and it has a cooking show competition theme and a pretty awesome reunion romance. It was so much fun to write, and I’m finishing up edits on that one now. I’m also working on another Christmas novel for St. Martin’s Press. This one is called Christmas Angels and is set in the mountains with lots of snowbound fun. That will be out next October.
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A ho-ho-ho tote bag full of Christmas goodies and autographed copies of Christmas in Evergreen and Dear Santa. US and Canada only please.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: It’s always so hard for me to get into hard-core Christmas chatter in October, but that’s when these books release. Does it make you crazy? Or does it start putting you in the mood early to get a jump on things to read a holiday novel before Christmas. Oh! And how many of y’all are Hallmark movie fanatics like me? Yes I have the t-shirt and the mug.

 
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Excerpt from Dear Santa:

Dear Santa,
It’s me, Chrissy, again. I’m still being good. I’m going to have a
Christmas tree in my room. You can put my presents there so I
don’t have to wait until Daddy wakes up Christmas morning.
He sleeps way too late. Be careful on the stairs.
Chrissy
CHAPTER ONE
Angela Carson prided herself on keeping things simple, like coffee, for example. She made her own. No K-cups or fancy electronic gadgets. Just a good old-fashioned automatic drip pot. The same one that she’d had in her college dorm days. No fancy, flavored coffee either—just the local grocer’s brand.
She used the same simplicity when it came to her store, Heart of Christmas, located in the old lighthouse at the edge of town where the road curved hard to the right, hugging the coastline near the jetty. And not just any lighthouse, but the one where her great-great-grandfather had worked until the day he died.
When her grandmother, affectionately called Momma Grace, died she’d left the family heirloom with all its charm to Angela, along with the beach house she’d grown up in, which was on the adjacent oceanfront property. And even though the lighthouse had been decommissioned long ago, it still sported its original daymark, a unique harlequin-like diamond pattern, adding a touch of whimsy among the sun-bleached pastel-colored beach houses in the surrounding area.
Beachcombers came in droves year-round to Pleasant Sands, North Carolina, because the jetty pumped up the ocean waves, allowing for huge deposits of shells. Shell seekers spent hours rooting through the piles and piles of colorful treasures.
Small prize shells, like the colorful coquinas, augers and tiny olive shells, could be found among larger shells such as clams, scallops, occasional whelks and Scotch bonnets, which were always a keeper.
The bounty brought people back again and again. And with that came a steady flow of customers.
Thankful was how Angela felt about all of those shell-seeking customers, and her dedicated staff. But today Heart of Christmas was closed so she and her staff could enjoy the holiday with their families, despite the fact that her competition had chosen to stay open on Thanksgiving Day.
Angela gulped a cup of coffee to chase the bitter taste in her mouth. Christmas Galore? There wasn’t a single thing sincerely Christmassy about that store.
She opened the large glass 27-by-40-inch frame that protected her message-of-the-day board on the street side of Heart of Christmas. Locals said they enjoyed the local facts she posted there, which was nice because she loved posting them, and changed them at least weekly . . . more when the mood struck her.
With the canvas tool bucket next to her she pulled out a few wet wipes and cleared yesterday’s message, leaving a shiny black surface with just the words “DID YOU KNOW” in bright red along the top.
She grabbed a wide chalk paint marker in royal blue and wrote out the message of the day, switching up colors to make it look festive.
DID YOU KNOW?
In 1710, Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard the Pirate,
spent Thanksgiving in Pleasant Sands as a guest of the
owners of the Topside Tavern, the Collins family, on Checker Street.
30 years old, his table manners weren’t the best,
but he gave a gold coin to each child there.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING
She stepped back to proofread for spelling, squinting against the bright sun. Last year she’d had to break out her winter coat on Thanksgiving but today the sun shone as brilliantly as if it were an end-of-season summer day.
Angela’s phone began playing “Locked Away” by Maroon 5, the ring tone for her lawyer sister, Marie. “Hey, Marie.”
“Are you busy?”
“Just finished switching out my message at the shop.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this,” Marie said, “but Brad is asking about Momma Grace’s oyster dressing. I forgot to ask you to make it. Do you have time? Apparently it’s more important to Brad than the turkey.”
“I thought that was expected,” Angela said. “I made it this morning.”
“You’re the best sister.”
Angela heard the whoosh of relief. It wasn’t until just a couple years before Momma Grace died that she’d finally trusted Angela with that recipe—sort of the official hand-off of the legacy. Just like the store had been.
“I have another favor to ask too. Can you zip over to The Crabby Coffee Pot and pick up an order for me? It’s already paid for. It’ll save a trip out for Brad.”
“Sure. I can do that.” Not a fan of fancy brews, Angela hadn’t been to the new coffee shop even though it was practically across the street from Heart of Christmas. From the front door she could see their sign: a bright red crab with its open claw waving to the patrons below as he balanced on a blue speckled coffeepot. “As soon as I get your coffee, I’ll get the stuff from the house and head your way.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite sister?”
“I’m your only sister.” Angela laughed. “But that does make me feel a little better about letting you do all the work on these big holiday meals.”
“You know I love doing it,” Marie said.
Marie wouldn’t stop at just dinner for the family either. Right after they ate she’d start welcoming guests for her Holiday Warm-up, an annual event with an open invitation to all of Angela’s and Brad’s customers and vendors, along with neighbors and friends. People would come and go for hours, noshing on delectable desserts and getting ready for the holiday season. Angela was exhausted just thinking about it.
“That I do. I’ll see you in a while.” Angela ended the call and tucked her phone in her back pocket.
She crossed the beach road and cut through the parking lot toward the small row of colorful storefronts, each a different shade of blue, peach, yellow and green.
To her surprise, The Crabby Coffee Pot was as busy today as any workday.
The front door had been propped open to take advantage of the mild weather. As she got closer to the bright yellow front door the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee wafted out into the parking lot and mingled with the smell of bacon from the diner down the way, making her hungry.
Bright blue nautical ropes herded the customers to the counter to place their orders in a line that wrapped around twice like a giant snake. She let herself be nudged along, thankful that at least the line was moving.
People stepped up to the register, recited their order and then left with a lift in their step before even taking the first sip of the caffeinated concoction. Some of those drinks were quite pretty, with their whipped cream, sprinkles and all.
She was tempted to treat herself to one.
Other customers were picking up orders too, some of them quite large. Angela suddenly found herself hoping Marie hadn’t ordered so much that Angela wouldn’t be able to walk home with it. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit. Marie was her complete opposite, going whole hog on everything she did. No telling how many people would pass through her sister’s house this afternoon and evening. Angela would stay just long enough to slip out when the house got crowded.
Across the way a dark-haired man reading The Wall Street Journal at a two-topper caught her attention. His watch glimmered beneath the edge of his perfectly tailored suit. Crisp ocean-blue cuffs peeked from beneath his sleeve a perfect half-inch. He looked the type to have money to spare. There were quite a few of his kind in Pleasant Sands since all those high-end condos had been built near the marina.
She’d take her weathered beach house any day, but these transplants were bringing new things to the area. Like this shop, for instance. Most of them were partial-year residents who closed the doors of their condos at the end of the season and disappeared until spring.
Her eyes followed the line of the man’s sharply creased dress pants to his leather loafers. Nice shoes said a lot about a man. So many of the beach guys around here opted for sneakers or flip-flops year-round. That drove her nuts. Didn’t they know grown-ups were supposed to wear real shoes?
She lifted her gaze, to see him looking directly at her. Their eyes locked. Even from here she could tell his were blue. As blue as the starched button-down dress shirt he wore. And for a moment she felt unable to look away.
Please tell me he didn’t notice that I was checking him out.
But the slight lift at the corner of his mouth said he’d definitely noticed. She managed a smile, certain her cheeks were red.
Her phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, she dug for her phone and answered. “Hi, Marie. I’m in line to pick up your order. It’s really busy.”
“I appreciate you picking that up for me,” Marie said.
Angela could tell she was on speaker. She could just picture Marie multitasking in her kitchen. “I don’t mind. What’s up?”
“Can I borrow that gravy carafe I gave you for Christmas last year too?”
“Sure, I’ll pick up the carafe when I go home to get the dressing. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Good. I’ve got all of our favorites. I love tradition.”
“Me too. I wouldn’t miss it.” Heart of Christmas had been tradition too. Only, that might not be the case for long. Angela’s gut ached at the thought.
“What would I do without you?” Marie said. “You’re an angel.”
“Aren’t all sisters angels-in-waiting?” Angela remembered those words of comfort from their mom. It was the only thing about her mother she still remembered.
“Oh great, like that’s not pressure,” Marie said with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll talk to you in a little bit.” Angela ran her hand through her hair, trying not to give into the temptation to look back at that guy again. But by the time the next customer had walked away with their coffee and pastries, she found herself drawn back in his direction. Nothing nonchalant about that.
Thankfully, his newspaper seemed to have his full attention. As she looked closer, she realized he didn’t really have that fancy-condo boat-guy look. Didn’t have the weathered skin, or remnants of the sun lightning his hair, the way those guys did. Maybe he wasn’t from around here at all.
“Next!” a brisk shout came from across the counter.
Angela felt a thump on her shoulder.
“That’s you,” the teenage girl behind her said as she almost pushed Angela off balance.
“Sorry.” Angela lunged toward the counter, glancing back at Blue-eyes one last time. He was smiling at her.
She managed an awkward finger wave then turned before he saw the hot rush of embarrassment racing up her chest.
“May I help you?” The barista’s words carried an edge that didn’t even require a finger snap to get her attention.
Angela cleared her throat to place her order, then managed another quick glance, but he’d already moved on.
“Um, yes. Sorry.” Somehow a plain coffee seemed way too ordinary after the long wait. “I’ll have what she just ordered.”
In a flash there was a sparkly paper cup with a peppermint-striped sleeve in front of her. Steam rising from the top, which reminded her of the other reason she preferred to make her own coffee: so she could sip it without burning the first layer of skin off of her lips.
“Whipped cream?” It was almost a threat the way the barista waved the shiny silver can.
“Why not? Go wild.” Angela watched the sugary sweet confection stack into a swirly peak, followed by a toss of chocolate sprinkles and a cherry right in the middle. At least the whipped cream should cool down the coffee a little.
“Pretty.” Angela handed over a ten-dollar bill.
As the woman counted back her change, Angela remembered the reason she was even here in the first place. “I’m sorry. I’m here to pick up an order for Marie Watterman, too.”
“Of course you are.” The girl standing behind Angela propped a hand on her hip and cocked her head, checking her watch as if she were late for something.
The barista shoved a fancy blue sack toward her. “Already paid for.”
Angela wrangled the bag, trying to maneuver it and not spill her coffee. The bag was so large it wouldn’t even fit in the overhead compartment of an airplane. And it was heavy.
The barista craned her neck past Angela. “Next.”
Angela left with barely enough change to satisfy the bell ringer standing on the sidewalk, but she dropped the coins and dollars into the kettle anyway. “Merry Christmas.”
“You too. Thank you.”
Despite his snow-white beard, Santa’s hands looked strong and even this late in November he had a tan. Probably a young surfer earning a few extra bucks to make it to the next big waves. Lots of locals, especially the fishermen and surfers, had tans late into the year. Angela’s brother-in-law Brad was like that too, from being out on construction sites. He was successful enough now that he could sit in the office and never swing a hammer again, but he loved the physical part of the job, and his crews loved him for that.
The growth spurt in Pleasant Sands had been very good for his business.
Not so much for hers. Quite the opposite, in fact.
She stopped to get a better grip on the heavy bag, and then took another sip of her coffee. She had to admit it was pretty good coffee. She could see how people got hooked on it.
As she walked to the end of the strip mall heading home, she noticed the handsome stranger on his phone leaning against the open door of a shiny red sports car.
She smiled and waved, her stomach whirling, but he didn’t seem to notice her. Too bad; she wouldn’t have minded a quick conversation with him.
She crossed the street. Her old beach house could use a new coat of paint this spring. The once beachy, deep grayish-blue called Nantucket Fog had faded to more of a rainy-day gray, making the pewter shutters almost disappear. She knew she should’ve gone with the brick-red shutters even though Brad said it wasn’t a beachy combination; at least the house wouldn’t be fading into the backdrop right now.
She wondered where the stranger would be eating dinner tonight. She wished she’d thought to look at his license plate. Was he one of the new condo residents who had moved into the area, or was he only passing through on his way somewhere else?
Wouldn’t it be funny if he ended up being one of the guests at her sister’s Holiday Warm-up tonight? she thought. It could happen. This big old world had a way of seeming small most of the time, with everyone intersecting in one way or another.
What was it people said about that small-world experiment? That whole six-degrees-of-separation theory? That we’re all connected in anaverage of just six hops among family, acquaintances or friends.
When Angela got back to her beach house, she stopped and put the bag in the front seat of her car, and then ran up the stairs to her front door.
She straightened its beachy wreath. A ring of artificial fern looked soft beneath the bevy of starfish, sand dollars and assorted shells she’d collected on the beach.
As soon as she opened the door, parsley, sage and thyme from the dressing filled the air. She gathered the casserole dish and the carafe for Marie.
She loved spending Thanksgiving with Marie’s family, and now that there was even an itsy bitsy chance she might run into the handsome stranger there, it was even more exciting.
It wasn’t a stretch that she might run into the dark-haired man from The Crabby Coffee Pot again—as soon as tonight—with all of the guests her sister always entertained at her Holiday Warm-up party. Angela might even stay for the whole party this year. She put the covered dish down and ran back into her room to change into something a little dressier.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

From USA Today bestselling author Nancy Naigle, Dear Santa is a heartwarming Christmas story about finding your passion for life and love.
Angela Carson wants nothing more than to be the third-generation to run her family’s holiday store, Heart of Christmas, successfully. They’ve weathered over sixty tourist seasons, major hurricanes, and urban sprawl, in their old decommissioned lighthouse. But the national chain that set up shop in their small North Carolina town of Pleasant Sands may be more than Heart of Christmas can survive.
Encouraged by her niece to ask Santa for help through the Dear Santa app, Angela gives in and lets the words fly in a way that, if Santa were real, would no doubt land her on the naughty list. What’s the harm when it’s just a computer-generated response?
Geoff Paisley has been at his mother’s side running the mega-chain Christmas Galore for the last ten years. When his mother falls ill, Geoff promises to answer the Dear Santa letters in her stead. Soon he realizes the woman he’s been corresponding with on Dear Santa is Angela. How could the woman that grates his every last nerve in person have intrigued him so deeply through those letters?
When Geoff reveals that he’s her Dear Santa, will Angela be able to set aside their very public feud to embrace the magic of the holiday and possibly find true love?
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Meet the Author:

USA Today bestselling author Nancy Naigle writes small-town love stories and women’s fiction. In 2018 two of her novels, Christmas Joy (11/3/18) and Hope at Christmas (11/20/18), became Hallmark Original Movies. She also wrote the novelization of the Hallmark Original Movie Christmas in Evergreen.

Nancy devotes her time to writing, horseback riding, and the occasional spa day with friends. A native of Virginia Beach, she now calls North Carolina home.
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