Page 1 of Stuck in Christmas

Prologue

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sprawling reindeer farm, its golden light softening the edges of weathered barn doors and glinting off the antlers of the majestic creatures grazing in the nearby pasture. Renee Douglas stood at the paddock's edge, her notebook clutched tightly in one hand as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Her friend Sherry busily captured images of the reindeer that grazed peacefully, their fluffy coats glistening under the pale winter sun.

The air was thick with the scent of hay and the earthy reindeer musk, a far cry from the familiar aromas of beignets, café au lait, stale booze, and urine-soaked concrete that usually perfumed her mornings in New Orleans.

Kris, the farm owner who took his role a little too seriously, looked like he stepped out of an ad for sugary drinks with polar bears. His coat and pants were bright red, a contrast to his pale skin and white hair. Flushed spots on his plump cheeks darkened as he extended his calloused hand toward Renee, the smile on his face inviting and warm.

“Thank you, Kris, for offering us an inside look into your reindeer farm.” Renee shook his hand firmly.

“Call me Santa!” he bellowed, laughter resonating deep within him as he rubbed his ample belly. His quintessential jolly figure contrasted against the rustic backdrop of the farm.

Seriously, this guy.

Renee rolled her eyes and glanced to where Sherry didn’t seem any closer to being done with the photographs. “Of course. Thank you, ‘Santa.’”

“Have you made your Christmas list this year?” Kris asked. He wasn’t going to let this go.

Renee sighed and waved him off. “I’m a little old for that, don’t you think?”

“You’re never too old to believe in the magic of Christmas,” Kris responded with a wave of his hand.

“Well, Christmas hasn’t been too great for me the last few years, but this year will be different,” Renee said, straightening her spine.It had to be.

“Oh ho ho,” Kris laughed. “That sounds like a good plan.” He winked at her and took off toward Sherry and the reindeer. For a robust older man, he was relatively nimble and fleet of foot. If he weren’t so damn likable, Renee would have probably thrown up from all the Christmas overload by now.

As for her holiday plans, they would be life-changing if she could get there in time. She closed her notebook and glanced at her phone. If they could wrap this up in the next few minutes, she’d be able to reach her destination before nightfall.

Sherry returned to their staging area and beganstowing her gear in the car. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Renee crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “Really? We travel 200 miles to interview a reindeer farmer for a magazine fluff piece. This is a stretch, even forPositively New Orleans.”

Sherry dismissed her concerns with a light flick of her hand, her spirit unwavering. “I don’t know. It’s nice to get out of the city, and Christmas can be so romantic.”

“Holy shit,” Renee muttered, half-convinced she had stepped into an alternate reality. “Who are you, and what did you do to my sarcastic best friend?”

“The holiday may be in the dead of winter, but think about it - Christmas trees, twinkly lights, mistletoe, and maybe even a little snow. It’s magic!” Sherry bounced from foot to foot.

“Snow. We live in the South. On a cold day, it could be 60 degrees.”

“You know what I mean,” Sherry laughed, batting her eyelashes theatrically. “This time of year, anything is possible. It’s magic.”

“So you said. But magic isn’t real,” Renee scoffed, shaking her head to physically rid herself of the absurd notion.

“The romance. And holiday movies,” Sherry added, her voice echoing around the farm.

Here we go,Renee thought.

“I stand by my conviction that not only are romantic holiday movies awesome—they’re necessary,” Sherry insisted.

“Necessary?” Renee challenged, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought back a smirk. “You’ve lost your mind. I think you’ve been smelling too much reindeer shit.”

Sherry’s eyes sparkled. “People love happy endings.”

“Yes, they do. That’s why they pay $100 extra for them in seedy massage parlors.”

“Why do you have to be so cynical? Why can’t you just believe in the magic of Christmas?” Sherry slammed her trunk shut. “It’s a magical time of year. Anything could happen.”

“For shit’s sake. I don’t understand how people can watch two hours of predictability and be ‘surprised’ at the happy ending. Those movies are all the same,” Renee’s voice rose slightly, her passion spilling over. “You’ve got the cynical businesswoman needing a lesson, a hot guy with a truck and a dog, maybe even a precocious kid. A snowball fight, a baking montage, a romantic trip to find a Christmas tree that ends with a magical kiss under the mistletoe as the snow starts falling.”

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