If you're in the US, you've still got nearly a month before things get Christmassy. But over here in the UK, stores were decked out in twinkle lights, red ribbons, and fake Christmas tree displays on November 1st.

And in romance publishing, the Christmas spirit has been strong since September, when the holiday romances start rolling in.

All this to say that I've had a lot of plots brewing in my head for the last few months, and I'm very excited to get them out and into blog posts to, hopefully, inspire romance writers around the world to write their own holiday romance.

A quick note: I'll be focusing on a few different winter holidays throughout this almost-two-months-long blog post series, so if Christmas isn't your jam, never fear!

This week's story starters are all about small-towns at Christmas. But these prompts run the gamut, steam-wise, from Hallmark/inspirational to straight-up smut. Take your pick, have a go, and see where the story takes you.

1. Salt cracked under my boots as I sped up the sidewalk, intent on getting to Daisy's as soon as possible. She only sold her candy cane dark chocolate donuts one week a year—December 5th-12th—and I wanted a dozen. Which I would magnimously share with the guys at the station. And then I'd get another dozen to stash in the freezer, because few things were better after a long shift then the frozen comfort of chocolate and mint, eaten standing in front of the freezer, letting my flushed face slowly cool. But just as I approached the door, the worst happened. The sign outside, advertising the donuts, was taken in by one of Daisy's counter workers, Trish.

   The cry of anguish I made must've been louder than I thought, because Trish looked up, saw how crushed I looked, and, with an exaggerated roll of her celery green eyes, said, "Don't worry. I saved you some. Saw you coming down the street." I love you, I almost said. Caught myself just in time. But though the words had been sudden, unbidden, and inspired by donuts, they were no less true. I loved her. Had for the last ten years. And she had no idea.
   

2. "Snowed in. Snowed in?" I screeched into the phone. Outside, Main Street was deserted, the only things populating the sidewalk a few stray piles of grey slush. We hadn't had any snow in nearly a week, but last night the mountains had received a heavy blanket, one that had trapped my assistant Janet in her boyfriend's cabin.

   "I'm sorry, Marley, but I can't get out. Ron and I have been digging the driveway out for the last half hour, and we've barely made a dent. Just close up early. I doubt there's that many pets needing care anyway. It's December 21st."

   She jinxed me. Because two hours later, just as I was flipping my vet clinic's sign from open to closed, a man came running up to the door, leading what I can only describe as a pack of dogs behind him. There was a golden doodle puppy, a spaniel, a boxer, a very cold-looking greyhound, two oddly docile dalmations, and–the reason for his sudden visit, I assumed—something small and fluffy wrapped in his arm. I nearly told him to go to Terry's in the next town over. Had the s in 'sorry' all primed on my tongue when he finally got close enough for me to take a good, long look at him. Blue eyes that kept dropping to the bundle below. Crow's feet and laugh lines—always a good sign. Tanned skin, the kind that came from a life spent outdoors, just like mine. And an embarassed, slightly frantic smile.

   Of course I flipped the sign around, and took have the dogs' leashes, and invited him inside.
   

3. Red silk thong with white fluff decorating the waistband. A red bobble hat too sizes too small for his head. And miles of glistening skin. All just inches away. Close enough to touch.

   I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see him. He ran a thumb along the strip of skin exposed by my t-shirt, leaving a wake of tingles in behind. And when he hooked his thumb into my waistband and tugged me toward him, I didn't fight it. My eyes fell open, though, just as Paul sank his teeth into his lower lip and groaned. "Jen," he growled into my ear, my name a long, drawn-out syllable that petered out into a groan I felt vibrating in my chest. "I want you."

   I hadn't bought myself anything for Christmas yet. Had been too busy getting the bar ready for the festival. But maybe Paul could be my gift. One night with him. Damn the consequences.

   
   

   I'll be back next week with Hanukkah romance writing prompts. Until next post, happy reading and writing!