HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Welcome to a new year! 

Wishing you all a healthy, happy, and prosperous 2025!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU ALL! 

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Happy December 24th!

A Visit from St. Nicholas

by Clement Clarke Moore (1822)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

I'm over at the Sweet 'n Sexy Divas Blog

I'm over at the  SWEET 'N SEXY DIVAS BLOG. Be sure to drop by and check it out.

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HAPPY SOLSTICE

Today is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. From here on, the days get longer. Take some time today to stop and simply be. There is so much rushing around during the holiday season that we sometimes don't stop and breathe.

Happy Solstice! Blessed Yule! Welcome Winter!

I'm over at Delilah Devlin's Blog

I've got the holiday spirit over at Delilah Devlin's Blog. Be sure to drop by and check it out.

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Lone Wolf Legacy Trilogy

 

Who are the lone wolves?

 

Since the rise of the werewolf, there has always existed a single lone wolf—with pure white, gray, or black fur and eyes that match—who answers to no alpha, belongs to no pack. Merciless and deadly, he wanders the world, both judge and executioner of rogue wolves who senselessly kill, endangering all their kind.

 

When one dies, another takes its place, awakening to his purpose the first time he shifts to his wolf form. Known by the sign of the lone wolf—a sickle over the heart—the short-handled, circular blade remains as a tattoo on the man and as a mark on the wolf. A lethal combination of intelligence, brutal strength, and keen instinct, he walks a lonely path, shunned by pack, always alone.

 

For the first time, there are three in the world—white, gray, and black—who all bear the mark on their chests. No one knows why, least of all them…

 

Series Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTKCDR77/