One of the recurring themes around the holiday season is home. Songs sing us home for the holidays. Many of us go to often extreme measures to make it home to celebrate with our near and dear. Sometimes we like to return to the place where it all began for us – our hometown, a relative’s house, a special place. Somehow we seek something more than bright lights, pretty decorations, presents, and delightful food or drink. We long to be cuddled and cradled, to reconnect with the oldest or deepest bonds we’ve made. We look for a little burst of holiday magic to bring past and present together as we celebrate and sometimes we realize home is truly where the heart lies. Sometimes we’ve been home without realizing it. It’s not always a place but a mindset and a feeling.
In my last release of 2012 (but don’t worry, readers, there is much more to come in 2013), Home Fires of Christmas, the story – and yes, it’s a short, not a full-length novel – delves into the concept of home. It takes us to one home, one woman, and the hopes she carries within for Christmas. It’s a love story, after all, but it’s a Christmas tale too.
Here’s all the details and an excerpt:
Lela may be the wife of a famous singer but on Christmas Eve, she finds herself home alone. As she waits for Shane to come home for the holidays, Lela wonders if fame has changed their lives too much. Shane's out on the road almost all the time while she keeps the home fires burning. Shane's failure to arrive sends her into a bout of self-pity but when he finally makes it home, she learns things are much different than they seem.http://www.amazon.com/Home-Fires-of-Christmas-ebook/dp/B00AFN3JBE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1354366444&sr=1-1&keywords=lee+ann+sontheimer+murphy+home+fires+of+christmas
“Keep the home fires burning for me, baby,” he told her every time he left.
At first she didn’t mind. Lela loved decorating the twelve room house, finding antiques and the right accents to make it into a home, their home, stamped with their style and personality. She enjoyed trying out new recipes to cook when Shane got back and baking the desserts he loved so much, but when his career really took off with a chart busting monster hit, he lived on the road and came home when he could, which wasn’t often. And Lela waited, sometimes patiently but most of all lonesome.
He still loves me, she thought as she curled up in bed, alone, her bare feet cold. She knew he did. Most nights Shane called her when the show ended and often phoned her throughout the day, quick little calls to tell her where he was or what went down around him. The florist’s van made frequent stops at their address delivering dozens of roses or special daisies or plants. Sometimes they marked an occasion – their first date, her birthday, but most of the time his cards were signed, Just because I love you, Shane.
Until now, he’d never missed Christmas at home. In past years Shane cleared his concert schedule to be back by mid-December and together they picked out a tree, brought it home, trimmed it, and went shopping arm in arm. Maybe because they grew up blue collar poor with moms who made ends meet with a lot of beans and meatloaf they gave generously. Family and friends always received beautiful gifts, things they wanted or needed, often things they’d never dreamed of owning. Shane and Lela also usually shopped for the local children’s home delivering a truckload of Hot Wheels race track sets, Barbie Doll houses, and board games, but this year she’d done it alone, all of it.
Where to find me:
From Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Blog: Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy