Christmas in July-The Santa Drag

The Santa Drag (tag line)

“Things aren't always what they seem, and this shopping mall Santa has a secret that only the love of her life can reveal.”

The Santa Drag

by Liv Rancourt

Then there was the year I played Santa. I’m an actress, remember, and since the economy was lousy, I was broke. I was between gigs, tired of pulling lattes and ready to audition for anything. The ad first appeared online in early September. For a couple weeks, I ignored it, sponging off my savings and looking for something more, well, gender-appropriate. Then I did the math and realized that I needed a paying gig or I’d be on the street by December. I called in a favor and borrowed a tricked out Santa costume…..

…. On a particularly busy Saturday, I was tired and thinking more about a double shot of espresso than I was about the pile of kids who wanted to sit in my lap. The weak winter sun was making its circle over the atrium where the Christmas tree was set up and my roommate Shauna was buzzing by every so often to giggle at me from the sidelines. Shauna had gone through college with me and now she taught English to high school students. It gave her the best dinner time stories of any of my friends. Teenagers will say anything. She was trying to get all of her Christmas shopping done in one day, which was a good trick for someone with as many fertile brothers and sisters as she had.

“Come sit up on Santa’s lap,” Maya said, interrupting my brief mental vacation. We were in the Christmas Village, which was a collection of six pseudo-Tyrolean houses done at one- quarter scale, surrounding an oversized golden throne, with phony snow covering the mall’s tile floor and even phonier presents scattered around the throne. 

“No,” said a little girl with a stubborn crease between her brows. She was dressed in Seattle’s version of Christmas formal, a stiff red cotton velvet dress, likely made from organic fabric dyed with beets and rose hips. On her feet were two-toned leather MaryJanes that probably cost sixty-five dollars. At least the green corkscrew ribbons tied around her blond pigtails looked like they belonged on a child. I made myself as approachable as possible, getting down to her level and producing a big smile. 

“Come on, Thula,” her mother said, tapping one French manicured nail on her cell phone. “Go sit up there with Santa so we can take your picture.”  She sounded as if this was just one more thing to knock off the list.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Maya put on her encouraging smile.  Maya was a tiny thing, barely bigger than most of the kids we saw, with long dark hair, a tiny gold hoop pierced through one nostril and bugged-out eyes that looked like they’d been molded out of chocolate. She was as non-threatening as an adult could possibly be. The kid stared at her and bit down on her bottom lip. At least she wasn’t crying. Yet.

I sat back down on my fancy Christmas throne and held out a hand. Sometimes less is more when you’re dealing with preschoolers. “You want to come tell Santa what to bring you for Christmas?” I asked, keeping my voice pitched down somewhere under my sternum. It helped that I had one of those raspy lady voices that earned me a permanent spot in the tenor section whenever I sang in choir. 

“No.”

This went on for several minutes. The kid went from biting her bottom lip to letting it pooch out and tremble. Never a good sign. Finally, after a ton of coaxing, she was more-or-less close to me, squatted down on the other side of one of the big pretend presents that ringed my throne. That was good enough for her mom, and Maya snapped a picture. 

When she was done, the little girl glared at me from behind the big glossy red ribbon that topped the present. “Bring me a baby brother,” she bellowed and took off running out of the Christmas village. 

Mom gave me a meaner glare than the kid had. Hey, she shouldn’t have been mad at me. I hadn’t made any promises. The kid ran full tilt through the crowds of shoppers, then stopped in the middle of an open space and started to cry. Her sobs echoed around the smoky glass dome that covered us and we could hear her carrying on until she and her mom got swallowed up by the Ross store at the end of the north hallway. The whole place fell into a bit of a hush when she was gone, as if we were all exhaling in relief. This close to Christmas, none of us needed a crying child to ratchet up the stress level. 

A young mother was next in line. She came into the Christmas Village and positioned a slightly damp baby on my lap, moving as if something hurt. The baby was so young that Mom still looked a little pregnant under her loose denim-blue shirt. Or maybe she was already pregnant with number two. I’m not so good with the principles of baby production. Well, I understand the basic concepts, but haven’t had that many opportunities to put them into practice. 

The brief quiet was interrupted by a yodeling squeal that I recognized. I stared into the crowd until I caught Maya looking at me funny. I stuck a smile on that was as close to my normal jolly-Santa shtick as I could get, and she settled back down behind her camera. The reason for my roommate Shauna’s squeal had me completely rattled. In the two or three beats I’d looked out from behind my wire-rimmed glasses as Mack-the-girl, I’d seen Shauna giving someone a big hug. A really handsome someone. Joe McBride. Joseph Timothy McBride. The actor. The real-life, got a soap opera gig and several commercials and you saw him in Scream 2 actor. The only guy I ever really loved.

Find Liv Rancourt here

And Then He Smiled

I can honestly think of no better way to spend my 50^th birthday than with Lynn, Chef & Tyrell here at Decadent Decisions. Thanks so much, Lynn, for the opportunity…

What makes your heart beat fast?

I mean, other than Tyrell’s smile when you come through the door. Oops, was that my out-loud voice? I have kind of a crush on him. Shhh. Don’t tell.  

Seriously, now, what makes your pulse zing? I can remember being 15 or 16 years old, sitting in one of the upholstered rocking chairs in the living room, just swinging back and forth with a silly grin on my face as I thought about some boy I had a crush on – the way he smiled, the (painfully) goofy things he said. You know the drill. He was tall, with broad shoulders and feathered hair. Hey, it was the ‘70’s. We couldn’t help it. There was some kind of group pact that we all had to have really lame haircuts.

Fast-forward fifteen years or so and there’s my husband, also tall, also broad shouldered, but with his hair in a ponytail (and an unfortunate mustache, which took me years to get rid of). I remember watching him on stage with his band when we were first dating, and even though I felt a little squeaky clean compared with the rest of the Prog Rock scene he was into, he had so much presence, such a calm confidence, that I fell for him. Despite the fact that it took him a year to ask me out. Because when you’re over thirty, it’s not like you keep track of that kind of thing.

After almost seventeen years of marriage, and on my 50^th birthday, I still like to see him on stage.  I like to watch his strong hands on his big Polaris bass. It’s the same instrument he’s played since college. He had it re-jiggered (which is my somewhat less-technical term for shiny new electric innards) a few years ago, and it’s still got a great sound. And my boy’s got rhythm, I’m just sayin’.

So what about you? Is it broad shoulders or a quirky smile or feathered hair that does it for you? In my ever-so-humble opinion, it’s the little things that make a romance, things like the fact that on the day of our wedding, I forgot my house keys and my husband did not, saving me from a full-on panic attack. Good man.  He also sent me roses at work on my birthday the first year we were dating. Okay, now I might be boasting just a little, but when a bunch of nurses get ahold of something like that in the middle of a night shift, it becomes a very big deal.

;)

There’s a giveaway linked to this post, so leave a comment that tells us whether it’s the way they smile or a particular romantic gestures that made your heart beat faster. Lynn will draw a winner from the comments and send them a copy of my book A Vampire’s Deadly Delight. It’s a humorous, ‘Buffy meets Spider Man’ kind of thing, and while not truly a romance, it does have the occasional romantic moment. Because life’s too short not to have a happily-ever-after.

Peace,

Liv

Liv Rancourt is a writer of paranormal fiction and romance, often at the same time. She lives with her husband, two teenagers, two cats and one wayward puppy. She likes to create stories that have happy endings, and finds it is a good way to balance her other job in the neonatal intensive care unit. Liv can be found on-line at her website (www.livrancourt.com), her blog (www.liv-rancourt.blogspot.com), on Facebook (www.facebook.com/liv.rancourt), or on Twitter (www.twitter.com/LivRancourt). 

And if you’re curious, you can check out Liv’s husband with his current band, The Fentons, at their website. He’s the (handsome) guy in the left of their picture, the one in the black Western-style shirt.   ;)

A Vampire’s Deadly Delight

Kristen is a happily-single bookstore owner with a secret: when she smells vampire, she turns into Jai, a beauti-licious babe who makes vamps permanently dead. Vamps can’t keep their hands off her, and Jai uses super strength and her trusty blade, Mr. Sticky, to slice and dice them, ending their undead lives.  Kristen keeps her day job running a bookstore, but at night, Jai comes out to play.  

The thrill of wearing miniskirts without worrying about cellulite makes it worth any qualms Kristen has about killing.  Being Jai is the most fun she has ever had, at least until she runs into the one vampire Jai can’t kill.  He and Jai may have shared a past, but Jai can’t remember him.  Meanwhile, Jai’s work has caught the attention of some old enemies who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy Kristen if it meant the end of Jai.

Kristen struggles to hold onto normal life under the dawning realization that Jai is a more complicated person than she thought, and that the good guys and the bad guys might be tricky to tell apart.  Their survival depends on what each of them is willing to give, and to give up, for love.

Available from Black Opal Books, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

A Vampire's Deadly Delight

Thanks very much, Lynn, for the opportunity to connect with your readers. Hmmm… Is that Tyrell I see over there? He is SO pretty…

Tell the readers a little about yourself.

I was born on the cusp of Aries and Taurus, which I think has given me an ‘all or nothing’ take on life. I’ve always lived near the ocean, but I really don’t like to swim. I love to sing the blues almost as much as I love to sing Gregorian chant. I’m getting mellower as I get older, but I’m still never quite sure which version of Liv is going to show up.

That might be why I created a main character who has an alter-ego. In A Vampire’s Deadly Delight, Kristen’s a bookstore owner who turns into Jai when she smells vampire. Jai is gorgeous and deadly, everything Kristen isn’t, and they both have a whole lot of fun until they meet the one vampire Jai can’t kill.

As an author, do you take time to read? If so, what do you like to read and who is/are your favorite author/s?

As an author, I HAVE TO take time to read. The best way of learning to write is by reading other people’s work. I love Ursula le Guin and Octavia Butler and Virginia Woolf. For more current writers I’m a huge Charlaine Harris fan, and I think Janet Evanovich rocks. The list goes on and on…Neil Gaiman and A. Lee Martinez and Christopher Moore and Jim Butcher and…

If I had to identify a unifying theme, I’d say I like writers who are generally upbeat, and it’s even better if they write about vampires. If I want drama, I’ll go to work.

How do you stay motivated when the Muse is uncooperative?

I’m the cantor for the Saturday evening Vigil Mass at my church, which means that every week I have to come up with some meditative, prayerful music, regardless of the fact that I might have spent the day screaming on a kid’s soccer field or had a tough night at work the night before and I’d rather stay in bed. Mass happens, whether or not I feel like it. I try to bring that same attitude to my writing. It happens, at least a little bit every day, whether or not I’m really in the mood.

If you could go anywhere in the world on a romantic getaway, what would you do and where would you go?

I’d go to the Inn at Langley, on Whidbey Island in Washington state. My husband and I stayed there one night last summer, almost by accident, and it redefined what luxury meant to me. If I had more money than God (more money than sense?) I’d stay there for a week, and we’d walk on the beach and watch the sun set and read the paper over coffee in the morning and eat in their mind-blowingly awesome restaurant. 

What is the hardest thing for you to write?

Lynn thinks she knows the answer to this one. She thinks I’m going to say “sex”. Hmmm. Not quite. I have more trouble writing a convincing fight scene. There are a couple in my novella A Vampire’s Deadly Delight and, while in the end they worked, I had to spend a lot of time figuring out who stabbed what and where the blood went and so forth.

If you could live the life of one of your characters who would you be?

That’s a hard one. I’m kinda mean to my characters. Maybe Mack, the actress in The Santa Drag, because her boyfriend Joe was so hot.

What do you like to write about the most? The least?

I like to write stories where magic is a part of life, where the good guys win and there’s a happy ending. I absolutely love it when my characters say something funny or there’s a plot twist that makes me laugh. And I’m too old to write about stuff I don’t like, so there’s no answer to the second half of the question.

What one piece of advice would you give to an aspiring writer?

BICHOK. That’s butt in chair, hands on keys, right? Reading will help you a lot, talking to other writers helps some, and thinking about it helps a little, but the only way to get better as a writer is to write. 

The tag line on my blog is ‘Indulge Your Inner Romantic.’ What do you do to indulge?

This may clash with your red wine and chocolate color scheme, but I’m all about the pizza and beer, with maybe a side of rock and roll. My husband plays in two bands, so for me the perfect night out involves thin crust cheese pizza, some kind of amber ale, and one of his bands on stage.

An ordinary bookstore owner and a gorgeous instrument of vampire destruction share a secret that could kill them both. What will each of them give, and give up, to survive?

Oops. This one was a just little more than I could
handle...

I wasn’t alone. Vampire. Raw. Maybe a wild one. I looked
up, nerves tingling because of the quick change to Kristen and
back again. Saw him standing at one end of the alley, head
turned to the side. Shakespeare’s profile, with the firm brow
and the long straight nose. Streetlights glistened on his curls.
Very close, but not Shakespeare.

“I could tear your head off and let your blood mix with
the bile and garbage and mud.” His voice was Shakespeare’s,
too, but not quite. He moved enough to show the silhouette of
the sword he was carrying.

I stood straighter, opened my arms a little. “Bring it.”

“Bitch.” He came at me too fast to see and smacked me
across the face. My head hit the dumpster with a ringing crash.
I landed on one knee, grateful I was in boots. Upright, Mr.
Sticky and I had a chance. If he got me on the ground, I was
done.

His shadow towered over me. “The moon’s light begs
mercy. She tells me to save you now that we might savor you
together.”

“So much like him, but not Shakespeare.”

“Not Chaucer or Oscar Wilde, either, though they were
both good men. I am Sir Hugh Robartes. You are nothing.
You are dirt. You are dead.”

“You’re John’s brother.”

“Don’t say that name.”

His fist found my face again, knocking me back into the
brick. I felt Mr. Sticky fly off into the shadows—then I was
out.

Buy Links:

Black Opal 

All Romance ebooks

Amazon

Smashwords

Liv Rancourt is a writer of speculative fiction and romance. She lives in Seattle with her husband, two teenagers, two cats and one wayward puppy. Writing stories that have happy endings is a good way to balance her work in the neonatal intensive care unit, and she is thrilled to be publishing her first novella with Black Opal Books. Liv can be found on-line at her website (www.livrancourt.com), her blog (www.liv-rancourt.blogspot.com), on Facebook (www.facebook.com/liv.rancourt), or on Twitter (www.twitter.com/LivRancourt). 

A Moment with Liv Rancourt

I'm please to have fellow Still Moments author Liv Rancourt visiting on Decadent Decisions. So without let me step aside and let her share her story.

Thanks, Lynn, for the opportunity to tell your readers about my short story, “The Santa Drag” that appears in Christmas Treats: Santa’s Nice List from Still Moments Publishing.

Things aren’t always what they seem, and this shopping mall Santa has a secret that only the love of her life can  reveal.

When Lynn and I were setting up this guest appearance, she mentioned that her blog often featured adult content, and asked if I was okay with that. I told her that yeah, I’d been following her posts and knew what was up. I should probably have warned her of something in return. While I might enjoy reading “adult content”, when it comes to my own writing, I’m definitely a PG-rated girl.

I think it stems from a formative event that happened when I was in high school. I was standing in the alto section of the school choir, and though I have no memory of the preceding conversation, I do very clearly remember the blond girl next to me leaning over and whispering, “Those who talk about it don’t do it.” 

She said it with such authority and yet with such an air of ennui that I knew she spoke the truth. Ever since, I’ve been afraid of talking about sex, lest someone mistake me for the kind of geek who never gets any. Actually, for years I was exactly that kind of geek, but that’s another blog post. These days, when I get ready to write a love scene, I sit at the laptop, shake out my fingers, and get ready to unleash my inner….Girl Scout.

Which is how “The Santa Drag” ended up on Santa’s Nice List. It tells the story of Mack, a Seattle-area actress who takes a job playing Santa because it’s the only thing she can find that’ll pay the rent. She is mightily dismayed one Saturday afternoon when a certain semi-famous actor shows up with kids in tow, to have pictures taken with Santa. Is she a good enough actress to fool Joe McBride, the only guy she ever really loved? You’ll have to check out Christmas Treats: Santa’s Nice List to find out.

Santa's Nice List

Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased as punch to be on the Nice List, and can’t wait to read the other Nice stories. I’m also very much looking forward to Santa’s Naughty List, too, because I can tell from what I’ve seen on Lynn’s blog that you ladies are writing it and reading it and living it with class and enthusiasm.  Peace,

Liv

Liv Rancourt is a writer of speculative fiction and romance. She lives in Seattle with her husband, two teenagers, two cats and one wayward puppy. Writing stories that have happy endings is a good way to balance her hospital job, and she is thrilled with the release of The Santa Drag, her first short story with Still Moments Publishing. Liv can be found on-line at her Website , her Blog or on Facebook.