Thursday, December 06, 2007

As if a 8.5lb bundle of baby wasn't enough, I've gone and created something new - a Christmas tale to singe your eyebrows (and like the baby, bound to keep you awake... but for a different reason). A Sprite's Tale.

Here's an excerpt...


Having decided his uncle is due for a break, Santa's nephew takes over the job of delivering presents and heads straight for the sun-drenched beaches of Australia. After a cataclysmic sleigh disaster with a low-flying Qantas Stratos 1500, Santa's nephew -- aka Nick- - finds himself rounding up reindeer on an isolated coastal stretch. When all seems lost -- including Rudolph -- Nick stumbles upon Chrissie, a woman just as mysterious as he.

Chrissie is an Australian bushland sprite, sent after Nick by his uncle. Santa has made his own decision -- it's time for his nephew to settle down. And Chrissie's just the sprite to fill his empty heart.

Christmas is always hot in Australia. But this year, it's going to be hotter!


Nick Saint Nicholas

The first thing I needed to do was round up the four-legged propulsion units. Ignoring the raucous laugh of a kookaburra perched, I assumed, in one of the many eucalypts edging the beach, I turned from the sleigh and stared up into the dense rainforest.

And felt soft fingers skim down my jaw line.

What the?

I snapped my head to the left. No one. Nothing. Just miles and miles of pristine white sand strewn with brightly wrapped parcels. I frowned. And the fingers brushed my right cheekbone.

Okay, I’m going to have to admit, I jumped. Not much, but enough for the balls of my booted feet to make new divots in the sand. Someone was playing with me and I wanted to know who.

Pulling a deep breath, I centered my spirit and let my senses float, “feeling” for my unseen companion…
There! A faint whisper of wings, a delicate scent of rich soil, nectar and… and… something I wasn’t familiar with but made the blood in my veins tingle.


The humid air about me displaced a little, as if something lithe and nimble moved close to my body. I heard the faintest sound -- a giggle? -- and those fingers traced a line down my nose and feathered my top lip.

My heartbeat leapt away with me. That mysterious scent filled my nose and I felt soft fingertips on my bottom lip. I moved my tongue -- a little -- and tasted the sweet taste of dew.

Ah-ha. “Sprite.” But what kind?

The fingertips traced the fleshy line of my bottom lip in a languid path before dipping deeper into my mouth, touching my teeth and the tip of my tongue again. More sweet dew, with an undercurrent of… what? I didn’t know.

The faint giggle sounded in my left ear and I felt, rather than heard, that lithe body dance around me again, closer this time. Close enough to make my clothes move.

I bit back a curse. Sprites are notorious mischief-makers, hell-bent on causing mayhem through their unique connection with the supernatural world. I sensed a deep affinity with nature in the “taste” of my unseen guest, but what could she -- and I was assuming she was a she -- do?

The answer, well, an answer, came mere seconds after the thought formed in my head. Hands I visualized being long-fingered and delicate skimmed down the length of my torso, over the plane of my stomach, which tightened with reflex interest, down past my navel to the waist of my jeans (a pair of button-fly Levis my uncle had surprised me with last December twenty-fifth). Before I could react, the first button popped open. Followed by the second. The third.

A soft breath tickled my ear, filled with mist and cool breezes and a promise beyond words. My body responded. Immediately.

Check out the Book here!