With the push on now to get preorders for my upcoming Dickens Holiday Romance release, SASHA’S SECRET SANTA, I figured a little snippet might whet some holiday romance lovers’ appetites!
This one shows the relationship between sisters Sasha and Abra From Fixing Christmas…..
Enjoy.
“What are you doing here?” Sasha asked her sister a few hours later when she answered the persistent knocking at her apartment door. “It’s the middle of the day. Why aren’t you working?”
“Is that any way to greet the person carrying your first niece or nephew?” Abra asked, fisting a hand on her heavily pregnant and no longer visible waist.
“I’m sorry.” Sasha immediately reached out and snaked a hand under her sister’s elbow. “It’s been a morning.”
Abra let herself be led into the apartment she herself had lived in for a few months prior to her marriage.
“How are you and baby feeling?” Sasha asked as she helped Abra out of her puffy coat.
“I don’t know about the peanut, here,” she plopped down onto a kitchen chair and placed a hand over her protuberant abdomen, “but I feel like a sausage stuffed into the wrong-sized casing. My feet look like water balloons about to burst and I can’t go more than twenty minutes without needing to pee.”
“Here.” Sasha lifted her sister’s feet to another chair. A quick glance and she let out a guffaw. “You realize you have two different shoes on, right? Or is this a new fashion trend you’re starting for pregnant women?”
“Oh, good God, do I?” Abra peered at her feet. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I do.” She dropped her chin to her chest. “I knew the right foot felt different from the left but I thought it’s because they’re so swollen and the shoes weren’t fitting right. No one was home when I left or someone would have warned me.”
Sasha gently pulled each shoe off and the groan that blew from between her sister’s lips tugged another laugh from her.
“Too bad it isn’t summer,” Sasha said. “You could wear sandals.”
“Up until the first snowfall I was, and I still do when I’m home. Colton insisted I start wearing closed shoes again whenever I leave the house, after we started getting accumulative snow. He’s terrified I’m gonna get frostbite and lose a few toes before I deliver.”
“He’s a concerned dad-to-be.”
“He’s a worrywart. He’s been through this twice already. You’d think he’d be cool and collected about it all, but no. I’ve got to have a man who invented the term helicopter husband.”
Sasha grinned, her mood improving dramatically.
Peggy Jaeger, Author 