I lovedlovedloved writing Anton and Portia’s rocky road to love and I hope you enjoy reading it, too!
Successful Chef Anton Saparosa had the perfect life. Great marriage; beautiful and adoring wife; trendy SoCal restaurant frequented by celebrities – many of them his friends.
Then Covid hit.
Anton’s perfect life dissolved before his eyes. With nothing left to keep him in California, he starts an itinerant cross-country journey, searching for something to give his life meaning again.
Happenstance lands him in the tiny town of Dickens just as Dorrit’s Diner is thrown into chaos.
Literary Agent Portia Avon needs a rest. A messy divorce has her craving quiet and the company of her friend and client A.B. Cards, nee Abra Bree. She comes from the western heat of California to the eastern cold of Dickens and plans to do nothing but rest, relax, and read during her holiday stay.
When Portia spots a familiar face in Dorrit’s, she’s confused. Why is Anton Saparosa, one of the most recognizable chefs in California, working as a fry cook in Abra’s mom’s diner, and going by the name Tony Smith?
A question Portia wants an answer to, but one Tony isn’t willing to share, especially with a woman he can’t stop thinking about.
Welcome to the Wonderful World of Dickens … the Dickens kitchens that is!
The authors of the Dickens Holiday Romance Series are baking up a storm to make your holiday perfect. Look for some very special recipes this year, including: French Martina Cookies, Insomnia Sugar Cookies, Krinkle Cut Outs and Chocolate Crinkles. Also, Hanukkah Latkes, Jennie’s Friendship Tarts, Peanut Butter Magic (for you and your four-legged friends), and Aunt Sharon’s Cherry Blossoms. Plus, many, many more.
The series authors wish you and your loved one a joyous holiday season!
My Insomnia cookies are included in the book. Here’s what they look like ( to whet your appetite!!)
A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS is available in Kindlecopy or Print. The kindle copy is FREE!!!!
If you’re looking for a feel-good, redemption, finding love again story about 2 people who needed to feel loved and wanted again, set in the small town of DICKENS. This book is for you. If you’re looking for a freinds2lovers, over40 h/h, grumpy sunshine book, This book is for you.
And if you simply love a good holiday romance, well, THIS BOOK IS FOR YOU, LOL!!!
Happy reading, kids. Can you tell I’m giddy it’s release day??!!
With less than a month until the release of A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS, I’m ramping up the attempts to get to my goal of 1000 preorders before release day, 11.11.24.
So, here’s a little something from Portia’s point of view:
“Why do you all have such a penchant for walking around in freezing cold weather?” Portia asked as she huddled under her scarf, tugging it up over her mouth. “This has to be the coldest day since I got here.”
Colt, Abra’s husband, laughed. While he readjusted three-year-old Stevie on his shoulders, ensuring his little girl was safe and secure, he said, “If you think this is cold, Portia, wait another month. January and February are hibernation months in these parts.”
“I’ll be long gone by then, back to perpetually sunny skies and temperatures above freeze-your-you-know-what-off every day,” she responded.
Abra, who had baby Amelia in a carrier attached to her torso, laughed. Most of Amy’s family, including daughter Sasha, her husband, Steve, and their daughter Mikaela, along with Abra, Colt, their two kids, and Amy’s husband Andy, who was holding Blake’s hand while her mother and father were home with the newborn baby, all ambled down the wide Main Street of Dickens, making their way to the town Common where the annual tree lighting ceremony was due to start in a few minutes.
The town turned out en masse for the yearly event, the crowds shoulder to shoulder as they strolled along the sidewalks and in the streets, which had been cordoned off to traffic for the day. The shops along the main drag were filled with holiday shoppers and tourists alike, all providing a huge influx of cash into the town’s coffers.
The local eateries erected food booths along the streets, Dorrit’s Diner included, and sold everything warm and toasty for the cold day from hot chocolate to fried dough and roasted chestnuts.
As the group made their way closer to Amy’s booth, Portia spied a certain hunky chef cooking something on the portable burner inside the booth. Unlike her, he was without a coat, garbed in a long-sleeved sweatshirt and jeans with a logoed apron covering him and fingerless gloves on his hands. A black skullcap hid his salt and pepper curls. The closer they came, Portia was able to discern he was cooking hamburgers, a portable hot dog steamer next to the grill. The familiar and taste-bud watering aroma of the steamed franks made her lick her lips when it drifted over the cold air to her senses.
It had been a few days since their impromptu after-hours talk in Amy’s kitchen. Portia purposefully avoided the diner when Abra suggested they stop for a cup of coffee or a quick lunch because she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable should he know she was there.
For some reason, she wanted him to trust her, trust she wouldn’t reveal his secret. That didn’t negate the desire she had to find out what he’d been doing for the past two years, but she would keep his identity a secret, that was assured.
As a unit, they stopped when Amy called out to them, “Family! Come here.”
She came around the booth door opening and pulled first Blake into a hug, then kissed Stevie, Mikaela and Amelia in that order, before she lifted her cheek to her husband’s kiss. While Amy interacted with her family, Portia took the free moment to observe Tony while he filled orders.
Focused and determined were two words she thought described him perfectly. Eyes trained on the grill and the burgers he was cooking, a spatula in one hand, the other fisted on his hip while he waited until the perfect moment to flip the meat. His gaze was trained on the grill, nothing around him robbing his attention. Not the noise from the hoards moving about the street, not the pounding beat of the high school band playing at the Common, not even the squeals and shouts of kids running up and down the main drag.
For a hot second Portia wondered if he had the same concentration and dedication when he made love.
Startling, her lashes blinking through a rapid-fire series of tattoos at the uncommon thought, Portia felt her cheeks scorch.
“What’s wrong?” Abra asked from next to her.
“What?” Portia shook her head and turned it to her friend. “What?”
Abra’s brows inched together under the small expanse of skin Portia could see from beneath the woman’s woolen hat. “You gasped. What happened?”
“N-nothing.” She shook her head, digging for something she could say. If Portia was a determined woman, Abra cornered the market. The woman was an amazing researcher in addition to being an award-winning horror writer, and would talk a subject to death if allowed to. Portia knew her friend would question and pester her, ad infinitum.
Predictably, the writer’s eyes narrowed as she stared up at her agent. “You don’t usually gasp at nothing.” Abra looked over her shoulder in one direction and then the other. “Did something happen? Did you see something? Or someone?”
Wanting to nip the interrogation before it spiraled out of control, Portia reached out and laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Abra. I’m fine. Nothing is wrong. I’m just…cold.”
The writer didn’t look convinced. Not for a moment.
Amy overheard what she said though, and commanded, “Come here, girl and let me give you something to warm you up.” She tugged on Portia’s arm and guided her to the booth.
“Our hot chocolate is a town favorite at this event. Made with real milk and shaved chocolate, not that powder junk they sell at the supermarket.”
Tony had just turned from handing the customers waiting for their burgers their order when his gaze connected with hers across the booth.
Portia’s breath caught when he lifted an eyebrow and bobbed his head, once, toward her.
She tried for a smile but her teeth were clattering so much she worried it looked more like a grimace than a greeting. And not all of that clattering could be attributed to the frigid air. Most of it, if she was being honest, was because of the man standing in the center of the booth.
“Here, Portia.” Amy handed her a Styrofoam cup of steaming dark liquid. “This’ll get you warm on the inside for sure.”
She had no real memory of taking the cup because her attention was zeroed in on Anton – Tony -and watching him prepare another order. No wasted movements, every flip of his hands precise and intended for the sole purpose of preparing the food.
Why the heck was that so…so… arousing?
Good grief! I’m getting hot and bothered from watching a man flip cheese onto a slab of meat. What. The. Heck??
And don’t forget all the other DORRIT’S DINER DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE STORIES….
I didn’t have time to write a REAL teaser for today because the last 5 days have been such a whirlwind. I’m back home now and will start up my routine again, but for now, today’s NOT a teaser is just to remind you all that A CHEF’S CHRISTMAS is available for PREORDER over on Amazon for just #99cents. The drop date is 11.11.24.
I’ve got a goal of 1000 copies preorders (I know!!), and I’m standing at 35 right now. That’s a looooooong-ass way for me to go to get to my goal, so….help a girl out??!!
LOL.
And remember, the 99 cents price is a limited-time offer. Once the book goes live live live, the price goes up. So take advantage of it now.
Thanks, and bless you all.
And I promise things will get back to normal on this page from now on…
Since A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS is up for preorder right now, I figured I do another tease from the book.
If you’ve read any of my Dickens Holiday Romance stories, you know FIXING CHRISTMAS is the story of Abracadabra Charles, alias A.B. Cards. Abra’s got a prickly personality burned in snark-speak and wit that underlines a basic inferiority complex due to her being abandoned by her birth mother and left on Amy’s doorstep on Christmas morning.
In this tease, it is New Year’s Day and her interrogation skills are getting a workout on Portia…
“’Morning.” Portia yawned as she came into the kitchen. “Happy New Year.”
Abra, still in pjs, was feeding Amelia a bottle while Colton was busy breaking up a croissant for Stevie.
Colton repeated the sentiment to her.
“Did you guys make it to midnight?” she asked as she poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter.
Abra’s laugh reminded her of a wheezing dog’s bark. “Not even close. We both passed out at nine. Luckily this one,” she kissed the top of the nursing baby’s head, “gave us a respite and didn’t wake us until two-thirty and then six.”
“Longest stretch of uninterrupted sleep I think we’ve gotten in almost 2 years,” Colt said, grinning. “Felt like I slept a week.”
“A week would be nice.” Abra slanted a glare at her agent. “What time did you get in?”
“I don’t even know. Late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.” Portia couldn’t outright lie because the thought Abra might have been awake and heard the car door close was a possibility. Even though she’d been extremely quiet about it.
Finished, Abra began burping Amelia.
“Did you have a good time?” Colt asked.
Phenomenal was on the tip of her tongue, but there was no way she could tell them that and then not explain why. They still thought she’d gone to Antonelli’s for the party.
“It was good.”
“See anyone you know?” Abra asked.
There was a world of suspicion in that question and Portia knew it. If she lied and mentioned a name, she could be assured Abra would find out from the person she’d named, personally.
“Not really. I didn’t stay long. I went out to Grovesnor’s Pond to watch the fireworks from my car.”
This was a lie, but she knew it couldn’t be verified because Amy had been the one to tell her most of the town came out to see the awesome display when it went off at midnight.
“And then?” Abra pressed.
With a shrug, Portia said, “I stayed for a while and just…thought about things.”
“Like what?”
“Abra.” Colton’s voice hadn’t risen a notch and yet Portia could hear the warning in his tone.
“What?” his wife asked, eyes wide, all innocence.
Bless the man. He may not have known his wife as long as Portia had, but he was attuned to all her quirks and traits liked he’d grown up with, and been with her, every day of their lives.
With a crooked pull of his mouth to one side, he shook his head. “Stop with the third degree. Save it for when Stevie and Amelia are teenagers. You’ll need those C.I.A.-like interrogation skills of yours then. But cut her,” he nodded his head at Portia, “some slack. Okay?”
Abra’s pout rivaled anything her three-year-old could pull off. She nodded, sighed, then said, “What are your plans for today?” as she put the now sleeping baby in her Moses cradle.
With a shrug, Portia sipped her coffee. “Just some client reading. Not yours,” she added with a meaningful glance.
“It’s coming. It’s coming.”
“Speaking of coming, I just heard the paper hit the porch,” Colton said.
“I’ll get it.” Abra rose and when she passed by him, Colt reached out, grabbed one of her hands and with that same sexy crooked grin, kissed her knuckles.
Abra shook her head, then planted a kiss on the top of his head. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome,” she said with a sniff.
Colton’s lips split into a cocky, all-teeth smile.
So, I can’t believe I’m doing this again after the ego-kicking I got last time ( LOL!) BUT…
I’ve set a kindle copy sale goal for myself for my 11.11.24 release of A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS: 1000 copies preordered.
I know.
But if you don’t shoot for the stars you’ll never reach the heavens, right? So, if you like smalltown,holiday romance, 35+ characters, grumpy/sunshine, starting over, and surviving loss all mixed with humor and that wonderful Dickens Holiday Romance magic…pleasepleaseplease preorder your copy today. The kindle copy is only 99cents. You can’t buy much these days for that, can you?
This upcoming Labor Day weekend, the authors of the 2024 additions to the DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE series are having a weekend-long cover reveal.
My cover for A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS is going to be revealed on Friday, August 30 over on the public site. This is the link to the site for you to join: https://www.facebook.com/groups/christmasindickens
On the the 30th, join me and fellow Dickens author Judy Kentrus for a fun day of games, insights into the series, and all things fun and Christmas-y!
And you’ll finally get to see the cover of A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS!!
Successful Chef Anton Saparosa had the perfect life. Great marriage; beautiful and adoring wife; trendy, SoCal restaurant frequented by celebrities – many of them his friends.
Then Covid hit.
Anton’s perfect life dissolved before his eyes. With nothing left to keep him in California he starts an itinerant cross-country journey searching for something to give his life meaning again.
Happenstance lands him in the tiny town of Dickens just as Dorrit’s Diner is thrown into chaos.
Literary Agent Portia Avon needs a rest. A messy divorce has her craving quiet and the company of her friend and client A.B. Cards, nee Abra Bree. She comes from the western heat of California to the eastern cold of Dickens and plans to do nothing but rest, relax, and read during her holiday stay.
When Portia spots a familiar face in Dorrit’s, she’s confused. Why is Anton Saparosa, one of the most recognizable chefs in California, working as a fry cook in Abra’s mom’s diner, and going by the name Tony Smith?
A question Portia wants an answer to, but one Tony isn’t willing to share, especially with a woman he can’t stop thinking about.
From the upcoming ( 11.11.24 release) of A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS _A DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE Book 26)
Successful Chef Anton Saparosa had the perfect life. Great marriage; beautiful and adoring wife; trendy, SoCal restaurant frequented by celebrities – many of them his friends.
Then Covid hit.
Anton’s perfect life dissolved before his eyes. With nothing left to keep him in California he starts an itinerant cross-country journey searching for something to give his life meaning again.
Happenstance lands him in the tiny town of Dickens just as Dorrit’s Diner is thrown into chaos.
Literary Agent Portia Avon needs a rest. A messy divorce has her craving quiet and the company of her friend and client A.B. Cards, nee Abra Bree. She comes from the western heat of California to the eastern cold of Dickens and plans to do nothing but rest, relax, and read during her holiday stay.
When Portia spots a familiar face in Dorrit’s, she’s confused. Why is Anton Saparosa, one of the most recognizable chefs in California, working as a fry cook in Abra’s mom’s diner, and going by the name Tony Smith?
A question Portia wants an answer to, but one Tony isn’t willing to share, especially with a woman he can’t stop thinking about.
“Any updates on the baby?” she asked, moving to the stove, teakettle in hand.
He told her about the diagnosis and the treatment his niece would need while she filled the kettle and then placed it on the stove to heat. When she turned around to him, her face had gone quite pale and a soft curl of moisture shone in her eyes.
“You saved the baby’s life. You know that, right?”
“What?”
“You got her to a place where they could diagnose her and put a plan together to get her better. If you hadn’t been available to fly her to Concord…” she let the rest of the sentence dangle and shook her head again.
“I can’t begin to imagine what your sister is going through.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “Her hormones are gonna be going nuts to begin with and now her tiny baby needs heart surgery.”
A single tear snuck down each cheek and when she swiped at them his heart melted.
“I’m sorry for blubbering, but I keep thinking if this had been Blake I don’t know how I would have survived, how I would have handled it. Or what I would have done. I’m upset for your sister. As a new mother, she must be terrified.”
“One thing you need to know about Sasha,” he said. “She’s nothing if not a fighter and survivor. I bet she’s gonna sign herself out of the hospital in the morning if they don’t discharge her and head right up to Concord to be with her baby. Hell, she’ll probably order me to fly her to save time.”
“And you will, without any thought not to, because she’s your sister. Your family.” Her sigh pulled at him.
She was right. He’d do anything for his sisters, for his parents. The very fact he’d given up a month of his life so his mom could take a well-earned rest was all the proof anyone needed.
They were silent as the teakettle whistled and she went about preparing her nightly brew.
“So,” he said as she took her fist sip, “Everything good around here while I was gone?”
“RayLynn and Winston kept things moving smoothly.”
“Good. Thank goodness for the old-timers. They’ve been around long enough to know what’s what. I know my mom trusts and relies on them. I do, too.”
She sipped her tea, the steam rising, drifting around, and touching her face. His fingers tingled because they wanted to do the same.
Good Lord. Jealous of a wisp of air that got to touch her.
“Julia—”
“Michael—”
Her blush charmed him.
“Sorry,” he said. “You first.”
She sipped her tea then placed the mug down on the table. “I, well. I just wanted you to know how much I…admire you. Your whole family. You’re always there for one another. My parents,” she lifted a shoulder and cast her eyes downward, “have always been a little distant with me, now more than ever since the Jeff incident. I’d love if I had a family like yours. I’d hoped to have one like that for Blake, but, well, life intervened and my husband got sick. Then I went off the deep end with Jeff.” Another head shake. “Your family is the kind I’ve always aspired to have.”
Michael rose from the table and slid his fork and plate into the sink, ran the water to rinse them, and then let them sit.
“You know we’re all adopted, right? Abra, Sasha, and me?”
She nodded. “Someone mentioned it. I can’t remember who. But I think it’s wonderful Amy and Andy wanted to share their home and their hearts.”
He leaned against the sink ledge and crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you to make a point.”
She lifted her gaze, the mug warming in her hands.
“You can have a biological family and hope it’s the dream family everyone wants. Most of the time, though, it isn’t. The perfect family is almost always a fantasy. Or you can make a family with the people you open your heart to, like you said. The people you choose to be your family. Amy chose us. And I thank whoever’s in charge,” he pointed upward, “every single day she did. I truthfully don’t think I’d be alive today if she hadn’t.”
Immediately he regretted saying it. For the second time, with her, he’d divulged a little bit of what he’d always kept hidden, what he’d always considered too much to share. Why did it feel so easy, though, to say things to her he’d never given breath to with any other woman?
“That’s…awful to even consider.”
He shrugged. “Like I said, the perfect family dream is just that. A dream.”
He pushed off the ledge and turned around to wash the dishes he’d had rinsing. Before he could turn the water on, Julia’s hand wound around his bicep.
His gaze flicked to it. Her fingers didn’t even meet halfway around the muscle. Had he noticed how small her hands were before now? How long and slender her fingers were, the nails naked and buffed to a natural shine? Heat, flaming heat, singed through his shirt at her touch. It was a wonder smoke wasn’t billowing up from his arm from where she gripped it.
A worry line dragged her brows together.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, staying still, fearful if he moved he’d give in to temptation and rub his thumb along that thin line to soothe it away.
“The time before you came to Amy?” A nervous flick of her tongue wet her lips.
Michael swallowed and tried to ignore how much the little move made parts of his anatomy twitch. “What about it?”
“Can you…will you…tell me about it?”
His breath hissed like a steam valve opening.
The line disappeared as her eyes opened wide, her gaze mating with his as she waited for him to speak.
“I don’t talk about that time.” His throat was raw and dry like sandpaper. “It’s too…” He dropped his gazed to the sink, fisted his hands on the ledge. “I don’t even remember all that much.”
An outright lie. If pressed, Michael could recall every minute he’d spent in that closet, every cigarette the mean mad had put out on his flesh, every slap he’d suffered across his face and back.
Disappointment shadowed her gaze. Julia dropped her hand from his arm and nodded.
Backing away from him she said in a shaky voice, “Of course. I understand. I’m…sorry. Never mind. Sorry.”
When she dropped her gaze to the floor, a bullet of regret tore through him. He pulled in another bracing breath before forgetting all about the dishes and turning around to face her.
“I was four when I came to Amy,” he said.
She lifted her head, zeroed in on his face.
“Five when she and Andy petitioned to adopt me.”
“So young,” she mumbled. “Barely more than a baby.”
Had he ever been young? Some days, when he thought about that time, he felt as if he’d been born old and jaded.
I want to say a sincere, heart-felt thanks to every single reader and book lover who voted for these two books. The final round is now underway so I will, of course, be back with the results once they are tabulated.
Some days it really pays to get out of bed, peeps! LOL ~ Peg
Peggy Jaeger, Author 