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Showing posts with label karen cantwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label karen cantwell. Show all posts

Twelve Days of Giveaways Day THIRTEEN with Karen Cantwell!


Happy Christmas EVE and to the Thirteenth day of TWELVE Days of giveaways! Yes. . .thirteen! And I'm excited to have author Karen Cantwell take us into Christmas Day with her rendition of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas! Be sure to leave a comment to be eligible to win an ebook copy of Karen's new novel, Saturday Night Cleaver! The winner will be posted at the end of tomorrow's blog post!



'Tis the Night Before Christmas
A Barbara Marr spin on a classic

'Tis the night before Christmas, and all through the house, every creature is stirring, even the mouse (trapped in the corner by our cats Indiana Jones and Mildred Pierce).
The stockings are hung from the banister (our chimney mantle fell during the last earthquake...) with care, in hopes that Barb and Howard St. Nicholas, soon will be there.

The children simply will not go to their beds,
Six-year-old Amber is howling that she's been misled;
"You told me Santa was real!" she sings her sad song.
"But Callie just told me it's been you all along!"

"Callie!" I scream while the mouse-chasing cats clatter,
"What?" teen Callie whines. "She watches TeenNick, I didn't think it would matter."
I throw up my hands in a flash of exasperation,
And ponder the legalities of placing a teenager on probation.

Eleven-year-old Bethany shrugs and chimes in,
"I knew Santa was a sham," she says with a grin.
"When I was only three," she guffaws, "it was clear.
Come on! Who believes in flying reindeer?"

I take a deep breath, gather my thoughts very quick,
And point Bethany and Callie upstairs threatening a swift kick.
Then calming Amber down with a kiss and embrace,
Set her on my lap, and make my motherly case:

"See, Santa is real if we believe in our hearts,
And that's something that can't be measured on scales or charts.
Anything is only true, if it's true for you,
So don't listen to your sisters. They're full of doo doo."

"Now what do you say, we rescue that poor little mouse,
Then get you to bed, before Santa flies right past our house."
She smiles and sniffles and rubs her nose with her sleeve,
"That sounds real good, can we call him Steve?"

And thus is the drama in the Marr house Christmas Eve,
I hope yours goes better, doesn't cause you to grieve.
May your holiday be joyous and wondrous and bright.
Merry Christmas to all and to all, a good night!
______

Karen Cantwell is the author of the hilarious Barbara Marr Murder Mystery Series and other Barbara Marr short stories and holiday tales. Her most recent release is Saturday Night Cleaver.


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