​It’s all fun and games until someone ends up dead. Oh, wait, that’s a tagline for my books. J
 
Christmas is my favorite holiday, but when I read recently that the most dangerous part about the holidays was a Christmas tree, I was surprised. Christmas tree fires are some of the most deadly fires. According to the National Association of Fire Protection, “These fires caused an average of 7 deaths, 19 injuries, and $17.5 million in direct property damage annually. ”
 
It got me to wondering. How dangerous is Christmas? So below, I offer the Top 5 (slightly facetious) dangers of Christmas
 

1. Death by Family. I doubt you’ve heard of this rare syndrome, but forced and prolonged contact with family you only see once a year is rife with danger.  Prolonged conversations with the uncle who can’t hear, the aunt who spouts your latest bad news at the top of her lungs, the sibling who won’t let you forget the time you put gum in her hair when you were four, and the constant rub of old hurts and insecurities. Beware. Herein lies the biggest emotional danger of Christmas.
2. Death by Chocolate. I know what you’re thinking. Totally worth it, but this holiday danger goes beyond chocolate. There are the requisite baked goods from the neighbors, the goodies your coworkers bring to the carb-coma table, the box in the mail and the stuff in your stocking. It is a slippery, calorie filled slope, my friends.
3. Death by Music. A local radio station starts playing Christmas music beginning November 1. We haven’t even had snow yet, and some chipper DJ wants me to listen to Christmas music for the next two months. Such behavior could induce seizures ... or at least the desire to wear earmuffs.
4. Death by Light Display. The need to keep up with the Griswolds has us climbing onto a slippery roof to staple strings of lights around the rim and along the roofline. We plant yard art, put wreaths and lights in every window, and display our tree in the front window for the one time a year we actually want our neighbors to peek inside. If we survive the fall off the slippery roof, we still risk electrocution, lead poisoning (apparently that’s a thing), and a utility bill that will give us heartburn for the New Year.
5. Death by Stress. The holidays are the most stressful time of the year. The snow-packed streets are ice rinks, the malls are jammed, and the joyful crowds are often less than joyful. We worry about finding the perfect gifts, cooking the perfect meal, and having the most beautiful decorations. That kind of perfectionism leads to an ulcer. And a strong urge for a stiff drink in the middle of the day.

 
You shouldn’t take the risk. Stay home. Read a good book. J

​The number one rule of Christmas dinner? It’s going to get messy.
 
The first time I cooked a turkey, it came out raw inside. I had left the slimy little packet of gravy and gizzards tucked inside. There were witnesses of course, because no great act of stupidity is complete without an audience. I was in the Air Force and it was the first time I hadn’t gone home for Christmas. For reasons I still don’t comprehend, I thought it would be easy. Well, not easy, but... okay. I didn’t expect seven hungry people waiting in my living room for hours!
 
Mom made it look easy. She had four kids, but that was never enough. She invited all the single people from her work, old family friends, new family friends, and the occasional oddball. More than occasional, really. We had some very eclectic holidays, but the food was always excellent. The turkeys came out browned like something out of a commercial. The homemade cranberry sauce sparkled in the crystal dish we used for holidays. The cold food was cold and the hot food was hot. And there were enough dirty dishes to fill a dishwasher three times over. Messy, but easy.
 
My first Christmas dinner didn’t go well, so writing An Untouchable Christmas was a little bit about redemption. Come on. If anyone could pull off a perfect dinner, it would be Sofia Capri. She once faced down a mob boss and went hand-to-hand with his lieutenants. After that, dinner with Logan’s family should be a piece a cake. Sofia is convinced it’s going to be a mess:
 
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:
 
God, what was wrong with her? No part of her life had prepared her for a traditional Christmas dinner with a real family. Sofia braced her arms on the sink and leaned over; afraid she might puke. She’d only met his family once, and now she was suddenly inviting them to Christmas dinner. That meant his parents, his sister and her family, plus two of Logan’s friends, and two from the book group. Thirteen with Eli, Logan, and Sofia.
 
The moment he grabbed her from behind, a jolt spiked her nerves. She let out a squeal and half jumped into the sink, knocking her knees into the lower cabinet. “You scared me.”
 
Logan’s sigh ruffled her hair as he wrapped warm hands around her waist. “I can’t wait for the day you don’t jump every time I touch you.”
 
“I don’t.” Her back stiffened. She couldn’t help herself. Holiday meal planning had her nerves strung tight, and she couldn’t shake the dread that something worse was coming. No matter that the men who kidnapped her son were dead and gone, evil still existed. The mob didn’t go away.
***
Sofia and Logan’s first Christmas together doesn’t exactly go according to plan, but one this is certain: This holiday is one she’ll never forget.

​Writing the chaotic dinner scene in An Untouchable Christmas, I channeled the Christmases from my childhood. Christmas was a big deal growing up, with my mother doing everything in her power—even when money was tight—to give everyone a “perfect” Christmas; occasionally going into debt to make everything just right. Stockings were filled with ginormous oranges, nuts, and chocolate. I remember doll clothes and Barbie dolls and my very own diary with a lock and key, because heaven knows what kind of saucy secrets a second grader has.
 
As an adult, I took after my mom, going a little crazy at Christmas. The rest of the year might be red beans and rice with a controlled budget, but Christmas, well Christmas meant pulling out all the stops and occasionally the credit cards. I had tub after plastic tub filled with Christmas decorations, lights, and music. The kids had more presents under the tree than that Dursley kid in the Harry Potter movies. And then I got divorced and my tubs of holiday cheer stayed behind while I moved back to Colorado where I grew up.
 
The first Christmas I pretended it wasn’t Christmas until the kids came home and we could celebrate together. By the second Christmas, I didn’t even want to pull out the tree I’d found on clearance. Money was tight, and unlike my mother before me, I didn’t have a magic wand to make a Christmas Spectacular out of crayons, glue sticks, and Dollar Store wrapping paper.
 
Enter our Christmas Fairy Godmother. My mother—the kids called her G—invited us to spend a week with her. I didn’t want to go. That’s the thing I remember, because I wasn’t in a holiday mood and I suppose I didn’t want the shadow of failure to follow me to my mother’s front door, but G insisted, so we went to visit her in Oklahoma. She made all our favorite foods and showered the kids with gifts. She watched the kids while she sent me off to get a pedicure. We went to kids movies and had the kind of Christmas I remember from childhood. It was literally the perfect Christmas because that’s what G excelled at providing.
 
When I wrote An Untouchable Christmas, I channeled that time in my life, because Sofia has gone from trauma and drama to normal, and she really doesn’t know how to handle normal any more than I knew how to handle Christmas on my own. Sofia is overwhelmed by Logan’s family taking over her kitchen, and the one thing that grounds her is making her grandmother’s cranberry sauce, which is really G’s recipe. Putting her recipe into my Christmas novella is like giving her a piece of immortality. She may be gone now, but every time I boil cranberries for her cranberry sauce, she is with me, helping me to make a perfect Christmas out of crayons, glue sticks, and last year’s wrapping paper.
 
In An Untouchable Christmas, Sofia’s holiday starts off marginally better than my sad-sack Christmas, until a mysterious phone call before dinner threatens her new security. One this is certain. This is one holiday she will never forget.
 
I hope you enjoy Sofia and Logan’s encore appearance as much as I enjoyed writing it.