Guess I’ve been living my own magical romance movie after all. Before I can overthink it or lose the confidence coursing through my veins, I open another tab on my laptop, and type the one thing I haven’t written before.
Dear Caroline Whitaker, Director of Original Programming,
I am submitting my holiday romance screenplay,The Christmas Prince,for your consideration.
The pitch for this story flows out of me just as easily as the story itself. Maybe because for the first time, I believe in them. I believe in myself. One night with Ryatt having the most romantic date I’ve ever experienced, and he’s already convinced me to do something I’ve always dreamed of doing. By the time I hit save on my draft, my cheeks ache from smiling.
Opening a fresh email, I attach my query letter with a cover letter, ensuring everything they requested is present, and then I hit send. I didit. I actually submitted my first query letter after one night with him.
I close my laptop, clutching my mug with both hands as the snow drifts by my windows in a beautiful slow motion. “Alright, universe, you gifted me with an amazing man. Now if you could pass along an agent, that’d be great.”
Chester meows as he bounds across the floor, heading to his perch on the back of the couch. He meows something close to come on as he sits there waiting for me. He knows the deal. On my days off, especially during the holiday season, I share all my cookies with him. Something he probably shouldn’t be doing, but if you have a cat glaring at you from his pillow, then you’d give in too.
There’s nothing left for me to do but wait. So, I might as well see what the Hallmark channel is offering today for fresh movies. As I curl up on the couch, the screenplay still playing in my mind, I can’t help the little burst of hope that bubbles up inside me. For the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t look so impossible. It looks like fresh snow just waiting for me to carve my way through it.
I tuck my legs underneath me, blanket pulled up to my chin as The Christmas Wish flickers to life on the screen. The familiar notes of music fill the apartment, and for the first time in yearsI am gleefully watching the story instead of preparing to roll my eyes over the meet-cute or the predictably small town.
Instead, I’m smiling, warmth spreading across my chest.
Because somehow the idea of this type of romance doesn’t feel so far away. Instead, it feels completely possible.
I can’t help but imagine how I’m feeling right now—as thoughI’min my own opening scene. The lights are twinkling from my tree, the snow’s falling, and for the first time since I was a child, I’m not waiting for Christmas magic.
I think it’s already found me.
Chapter Nine
Just a Pinch of Meddling
Mrs. Claus
Well now, would you look at that—another batch of thumbprint cookies. They aren’t quite perfect just yet…they need just a little more help. They are just a bit crumbly and not forming perfectly into a dough.
But, that’s alright. I just need to add a dash of…mischief, perhaps. Maybe a smidge of..meddling. My hand glides across my glass jars looking for the last thing I need. Ah, there it is. The cork pops with ease as the fragrance of roses fills the air.
Ah yes, this is exactly what our two budding lovers need. A smidge of romance. Oh, no. That’s not good. I meant to add just a finger pinch but I accidentally add a heaping tablespoon. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.
See, the thing is dearie, it’s not every day that one of my reindeer boys runs off to Manhattan. Normally I’d have sent offone of the elves to return our rogue prince, but I had a feeling that a certain Goddess was up to something. Seems…I was right.
This cookie mixture is coming together nicely with the new additions. Normally, I’d let fate run it’s course, but she’s running a tad behind schedule. So, if I have to add a helping hand, who am I to turn that down?
Besides, you can’t rush true love. But you can nudge it along with a warm cookie, a snowstorm, and a bit of overly dramatic chaos that might just bring our wayward Prince home.
Now, I’m going to put these cookies in the oven as I watch this romance continue to bake. Let’s see what trouble our sweet Holly and that headstrong Dasher boy are about to stumble into, hmm?
Grab one of these cookies I baked earlier, and watch the story unfold with me.
Chapter Ten
In Over My Antlers
Ryatt
“Okay,” Holly breathes out between giggles. “I didn’t quite expect you to hate Hallmark movies as much as you clearly do, but that laughter has made up for it.”
I’m still scowling at the screen as the credits roll. It was awful! Between the cheesy lines, the predictable plot, and the over-the-top drama, I can’t see what people like about these.
But I’d watch 100 of these if it meant being cuddled up on the Hollys couch with her fluffy socked feet dangling over my thighs as I massage her feet. Listening to her laughter and watching her swoon over the guy plotting some grand gesture for the woman, makes the entire experience worth it. I don’t need to understand why she loves them to love watching them with her.
