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    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie: A Twilight, Texas Story
    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie: A Twilight, Texas Story
    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie: A Twilight, Texas Story
    Ebook106 pages1 hour

    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie: A Twilight, Texas Story

    By Lori Wilde

    3.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Come join a meeting of the First Love Cookie Club!

    “On Christmas Eve, if you sleep with kismet cookies under your pillow and dream of your own true love, he will be your destiny.”

    Carrie MacGregor doesn’t believe this—not one bit. She might be a “paid up” member of the Cookie Club and the local Sweethearts Knitting Club, but she’s not about to give in to the forced ho-ho-ho of the season. And why? Mark Leland. When he left town he broke Carrie’s heart. Now, the local-guy-made good is back, hosting the reality show “Fact or Fantasy.”

    Fact: Mark broke her heart. Fantasy: her friends think they’ll be getting back together. But could the magic of a Twilight, Texas Christmas make Carrie’s secret dreams come true?

    And don’t miss The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Raylene available November 29thfrom Avon Impulse!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateNov 15, 2011
    ISBN9780062116949
    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie: A Twilight, Texas Story
    Author

    Lori Wilde

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    Reviews for The Christmas Cookie Chronicles

    3.5/5

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    • 2/5
      Since the season is nearly upon us I couldn't resist the lure of this title when it was offered. It sounded like a sweet and easy holiday read, which it was, kind of, but in a empty calorie kind of way.There was no mention of it being a novella in the description so this was an unexpectedly short read with not a lot of substance. There was simply no time for anything but vague characters and a bare bones plot and I repeatedly felt like I must have skipped a dozen pages here and there. I can only surmise that the actual intent of this story is to introduce the cast and setting for the actual series, a teaser if you like. I would have preferred to know that going in though because I was disappointed it wasn't the full length novel I was expecting.I also discovered I was very distracted by the town being named Twilight (especially having seen Breaking Dawn just a few days ago), I kept waiting for a Bella or Edward to appear, unfair perhaps but the association is unavoidable I think.Personally I read The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie in less than a half hour so it would make for a quick lunchtime or commuter read. If you are a fan of romance then this is a way to sample Wilde's Twilight, Texas series and get into the festive spirit as well.

    Book preview

    The Christmas Cookie Chronicles - Lori Wilde

    CHAPTER ONE

    Xmascookie.jpg

    Carrie MacGregor hated Christmas.

    She despised the endless smiles and constant cheeriness, the forced ho-ho-ho-ing. She loathed the cheesiness of tinsel and blinking multi-colored lights and plywood Santa Claus cutouts decorating every lawn in Twilight, Texas. She dreaded the commercialization of gift-giving, the continual overeating, the ubiquitous music, and the stressful push-pull of relatives’ unrealistic expectations.

    Yes, okay, she too was a Christmas cliché—the obligatory Grinch. Every family had one. Bah-humbug.

    Her only goal for the next six weeks was to get from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day as quietly as possible. No fuss. No tears. No drama. No memories. She refused to dwell on what the holidays represented to her—lost love, dashed hopes, a broken heart.

    Breathe. Put one foot in front of the other. Take it day-by-day.

    Funny, she sounded just like her dad, Floyd, an AA member who had been clean-and-sober for four years, with only one accidental fall off the wagon. That was something to be grateful for, at least.

    Right now, it was Thursday. A week before Thanksgiving, and tonight was the last meeting of the year for the Sweethearts’ Knitting Club. The members of the club would be here soon. She had the refreshments laid out in the community room at the new Yarn Barn.

    Her older sister, Flynn, had originally started the yarn shop, but Carrie had taken over the business after the first store on the town square had burned down three years ago. She’d reestablished it in the shopping center on the bluff overlooking Lake Twilight. She was damn proud of herself, only twenty-five years old and running her own successful business. Especially when, not so very long ago, she’d been engaging in self-destructive activities. Grief could make a girl do crazy things.

    Carrie paused a moment from unpacking a box of yarn that had just arrived on the UPS truck, a skein of red and green alpaca yarn clutched in her hand. Through the big plate glass window, she gazed out at the lake. A sailboat swooped gracefully by, reminding her of the time Mark had taken her sailing.

    For a split second, Mark’s handsome face popped into her mind, but she squelched the image of him as quickly as it materialized. No fuss. No tears. No drama. No memories. That was her holiday mantra.

    A knock on the door announced the arrival of the first members of the Sweethearts’ Knitting Club. Ten minutes early, but Carrie didn’t mind. The lively group of knitters would keep her darker thoughts at bay. She abandoned the box of yarn and went to greet them.

    She opened the door to four of the six knitting club members who stood there with containers clutched in their arms. What’s all this?

    Surprise! they exclaimed in unison.

    We know how tough Christmas is for you. Sixty-something Patsy Cross sailed over the threshold, a golden garland trailing from the cardboard box she carried. After more than forty years, she and her high school sweetheart, Sheriff Hondo Crouch, were finally getting married this Christmas Eve. Lately, the normally no-nonsense businesswoman had grown quite giddy.

    We’re going to decorate the Yarn Barn! added plump Belinda Murphey, a relentless optimist who ran the local matchmaking service. She was in her forties, long married with five kids. She wore a blue-and-white Frosty the Snowman stockinet-stitched sweater.

    Carrie forced herself not to roll her eyes. Please, you don’t have to do that.

    "We want to do it, cocoa-skinned Marva Bullock assured her. Marva was the principal of Twilight High, and in the course of her job had punished Carrie more times than she cared to remember. You’ve worked so hard rebuilding the Yarn Barn and creating a cozy place for us to meet. You deserve this."

    Besides. Elderly Dotty Mae, who smelled of peppermint schnapps and mentholatum, patted her on the shoulder. We promised your Mama we’d look after you. She knew that dying on Christmas would forever mar your holiday.

    Her mother’s death five years before from the lingering disease of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis was only part of why Carrie hated Christmas. Mark Leland was the other half of the equation.

    Forget about him. Ancient history. Old news.

    Kind of hard to do, though, when she was in a room filled with women who had married—or in Patsy’s case was about to marry—their high school sweethearts.

    You and Mark weren’t sweethearts, you were just hot and horny.

    We’re not going to knit? Carrie asked, scrambling to think of a way to circumvent the decorating.

    Nope, Belinda sang out, and then scratched at a crusty white patch on her sweater. My kids had a food fight at the dinner table. Looks like I took mashed taters to the ta-tas. Oh well, we’ll pretend it’s just snow. Belinda laughed. She had a thing for alliteration. All her children’s names started with K’s. Like the Kardashians, she was fond of saying. Patsy, I just thought of something. Do you realize you’re going to be Patsy Calloway Cross Crouch?

    Let’s not bring that up again. Patsy started plucking the pieces of a nativity scene from the box she’d settled onto the refreshment table next to the crudités. Lamb, donkey, baby Jesus. She paused long enough to snag a purple radish from the platter, swish it in ranch dressing and pop it into her mouth.

    You really don’t have to do this, Carrie said. I can handle my own decorating.

    Marva wagged a chiding finger. You’re not fooling us. We know you won’t do it if left to your own devices.

    Well, yes, that’s sort of the point.

    Dotty Mae reached up to pinch her cheek. You live in Twilight, dear. It’s your moral obligation to uphold Christmas tradition.

    Is it too late to move?

    Far too late. Dotty Mae reached into her box and produced a twelve-inch-tall cardboard gingerbread man and woman. You’re indigenous.

    All around Carrie, the ladies were stringing lights and positioning figurines and hanging stockings. Taking over her shop. Four surrogate mothers doing what mothers did—butting in.

    Doesn’t anyone want to knit? I got a fresh yarn shipment in today, Carrie enticed, making Vanna White motions at her new display.

    Before anyone could answer, the door opened and Raylene Pringle flounced in. Ever since her high school sweetheart and husband of thirty-five years had left her last Christmas, she’d been as down in the dumps about the holidays as Carrie. Everyone had been tiptoeing around Raylene since her split with Earl. No one knew how to take her anymore.

    She’d stopped dying her hair, which was once Miss Clairol platinum blonde, but was now steel gray, and she’d quit wearing her famous short shirts. She had on baggy blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a faded black Rolling Stones T-shirt with a big red tongue sticking out at everyone.

    Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. At last, an ally.

    I’m here, Raylene drawled. What the hell do you want me to do?

    Help us set up the Christmas tree, Marva said brightly.

    Not a Christmas tree, too. Carrie groaned.

    It’s not for you. Patsy spread green felt on the floor in front of the window facing the parking lot.

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