#HolidayHop ‘s Winning Fairytale is ….

These are the #HolidayHop Authors...

IT is the 28th of December…

As promised here is the Winning Author…

Thank you to all the authors who participated…I enjoyed every fairytale…

But it is a contest which means there is a Winner…

To find out whose re-imagined fairytale won the grand prized of a printed copy of the anthology,

Tales for Canterbury…click on the golden laurel image below…

It will take you to the lucky Author’s blog…

Click on this image to take you to the winning author's blog...





#HolidayHop welcomes Penelope Crowe…Last Chance to win some prizes~Enter now!

Click here to go blog hopping to more than 60 Holiday Hoppers...win prizes, enter contests and meet amazing indie authors...

Today I welcome Penelope Crowe to the blog with her fairytale for Christmas…

One day left to enter my contest and win some prizes....Hurry..Click here for the rules!


Henry and Greta were tired of being gophers.  Graduating first and second respectively in their class at Pratt three years ago meant nothing in the real world.  They had no relatives in the art community, and all their friends had careers of their own to worry about.

So they got other people coffee, bought paint, climbed the ladders when the museum light bulbs went out, and barely make a living.  Their apartment was an 800 square foot pre-war charmer, complete with roaches and windows that would not open.

Greta dreamt of a life in the country, with a little house of their own somewhere in the woods far, far away from the dirty city.

Henry’s drawings and paintings rivaled Cezanne.  Greta wrote words Hemingway would envy.  They worked on books at night and submitted them to publishers.

On Thursday Henry sketched some pictures to show the art director of the museum.  They  showed the stark white walls of the museum transformed by paintings that looked like stained glass.  Their placement brought to mind the opulent Baroque style of churches from centuries before.  

The sketches and ideas were stunning, and the art director dismissed him with a wave of his hand.    

The next morning the curator announced their next display—an architectural transformation of the museum showing paintings that looked like stained glass.  Congratulations were giving to the art director, the genius who thought of this wonderful idea.

Henry and Greta left the museum at 9:23AM, never to return.

They went home and gathered their books and illustrations in a portfolio and started walking uptown.

They left copies of their books with publishers on Varick Street, 24th, 53rd, Avenue of the Americas, and everywhere in between.  Their trail of literature led them to the front doors of the Waldorf Astoria.  Henry and Greta had to step aside as the doors swung open, and eight dogs of various shapes and sizes stepped through, followed by a very well-dressed old man.  

The dogs surrounded Henry and Greta and proceeded to bark.  They were silenced when the old man quietly spoke the two words “thank you.”  They sat down and looked at the man as if waiting for a treat.  

“My dogs have never been wrong,” smiled the old man.  “and they tell me you have something to show me.  Please come in and have tea.”

Hungry and thirsty after their journey through the city, they agreed.  

Sitting in Peacock Alley enjoying scones and tea, the old man, Mr. Kris, pointed past the opulent gift shop and told them his book shop was around the bend.  He had a first edition Animal Farm by George Orwell, and Dracula by Bram Stoker.  He had a handwritten journal with illustrations touted to be the works of DaVinci.  He said it was priceless.

“Please show me your work,” he said, “I am anticipating a glorious release.  Everyone has been waiting, and I want to be the one to show your art to the world.  My dogs are never wrong.”

Greta and Henry, though confused, showed Mr. Kris their books.  With a glimmer in his eye he requested copies, and informed them they would be ready for sale in one week.  Thank yous were exchanged, and Greta and Henry left shaking their heads.

They returned in one week and asked to speak to Mr. Kris, but no one knew who he was.  No one had heard of him.

As if by magic their books were in every bookstore they passed on the way home.  

Greta and Henry started to look for a place to live in the country.     

Find Penelope on her blog: http://www.penelopecrowe.blogspot.com/

Click here to get a copy…

Thank you for that tale Penelope. Every writer needs a Mr. Kris. Hope you find your’s this Christmas. Happy Holiday Hop and Merry Christmas! 🙂

Remember, Readers there is a contest going on this blog for the HolidayHop. Read all the rules and take up the challenge here There are fantastic prizes, just here on this blog you can win an ebook copy of an amazing collection of short stories plus you go into the grand HolidayHop prize draw for the Kindle Touch.Don’t forget to hop to the other bloggers this holiday season and let the festive spirit infect you!  It’s your last chance to win some prizes…enter now!

#HolidayHop brings you Robyn Porter…

Click here to go blog hopping to more than 60 Holiday Hoppers...win prizes, enter contests and meet amazing indie authors...

Only 2 days left until the end of the #HolidayHop which means only 2 days left to enter the contest, win a prize here and be in for a chance to win the grand prize of a KINDLE FIRE….What are you waiting for? Rules for entering on the bottom of this post.

Today I welcome Robyn Porter onto the blog with her version of “The Three Little Pigs”…Enjoy!

Alexandra turned her thoughts to Krystoff and Edward. They’d pushed her to come out for the night. It was the night before Christmas and she had wanted to remain indoors. Edward and Krystoff had lived a longer life than she had and said they knew that the fables of Santa Claus were fake. It didn’t matter. All of her life she had loved the idea and magic of the holiday and this year was no different. Only change this year was the addition of both men in her life. Vampires, they always thought they knew everything.

“Come on Alex, I don’t want to be late!” Krystoff yelled from her door.

Moving around the room, Alex grabbed her coat and took one last scan of the area. Her tree was up, the white lights twinkling in the dim room. Beneath the tree she had put down her small snow scene, filled with a glass pond and miniature ice skaters. She’d gotten it from her mother’s things after she’d died. It was one of the few items she still had from her old life.

A pound at the door brought her back to the present. Opening the wooden door she found Krystoff and Edward standing outside.

“Are you ready?” Krystoff asked. “I want to get to the theater before the line forms.”

“Yes, give me one minute to secure my fireplace.”

“Oh come on, nothing is going to happen.”

Alex laughed. “I love Christmas, and though I do not believe in Santa Claus, I also do not want to leave my fireplace open.”

Moving towards the grating, Alex secured the entry point with a small lock and a chant of protection. Though she knew both men considered her silly, she didn’t care. It was part of her routine and one she refused to give in to. Turning back she found both men smiling at her. She knew they had shared some kind of joke at her expense, but she just brushed it off.

“Okay, we can go.” Alex replied.

Leaving the house, they headed out toward the town. Each of their homes began to fade into the snow that was falling around them when they heard a sound echo from above. Glancing around, Alex caught site of a flicker of light high above them.

“What was that?” Edward asked.

“I have no idea.” Krystoff answered. “Whatever it was it was above us and heading back toward our houses.”

Alex got the sudden urge to go home. Looking at both men, she knew they had the same feeling. Taking off, they headed back to Edward’s house first as it was the closet. Opening the door, Edward found his home was demolished. The roof had caved in and there was straw strewed all over the room. She tried to keep her smile at bay. She remembered telling Edward when he built the house that filling the attic with straw was dangerous. Now his house was impossible to live in. Looking past the mess, Alex noticed footprints near the fireplace. They were too small to be Edwards, which meant someone else had entered the home.

“Okay, this sucks.” Edward shouted. “What could have caused this kind of damage?”

“I don’t know, but I told you not to use straw when you built this death trap.” Krystoff said. “You should have copied my house.”

“Oh yes, because wood is so much better.” Edward bit back.

“Of course…”

Another sound from outside drew their attention. Running out the door, they headed to Krystoff’s home only to find that the roof had caved in as well. Stepping across what remained of threshold, Alex found wood strewn all over the place. Moving her gaze across the area, she found the same footprints near the fireplace. Her skin shivered knowing that someone, or something, was causing all the damage. Looking at both men, she knew they were furious.

“I am going to kill whoever has done this.” Krystoff yelled.

“You are?” Edward asked. “How do you think I feel?”

“You both need to relax.” Alex began. “Right now, let’s head back to my house. If both of yours have been hit, mine will be next.”

She could still hear sounds above them, but the darkened sky made it impossible to see anything. Walking through the thick snow, she got to her house within a few minutes. As far as she could tell everything seemed normal. Opening her front door, she heard noises above her head. Sounds of tapping on the rooftop. Dropping her coat to the ground, she rushed to the fireplace and made sure it was secure. As she reached the edge of the grate, a loud sound echoed within the darkness of the brick chimney.

“Whatever it is, it’s coming down.” Krystoff shouted.

Behind her both men drew out their swords. Alex wasn’t about to let them attack what was coming down, not until she knew what it was. Waiting, she held her breath in anticipation. One, two, ten seconds passed and nothing. Just as she stood, she felt her house shake, the force enough to make her balance falter. Falling to the ground, she heard another loud thud. Glancing back towards the fireplace she found a pair of boots standing on the timber, red clad pants moving up into the darkness.

“Who is that?” Krystoff asked. “A burglar?”

Alex leaned in closer and heard a muffled grunt behind the brick wall that covered the entry to the chimney.

“If you wouldn’t mind a bit of help, I fear I’ve gotten stuck.” A voice echoed from within the darkness.

“Give me a moment.” Alex answered back. “Now, I expect you to behave as I unravel your situation.”

“I will.” The stranger replied.

A few words whispered under her breath, Alex undid the spell of protection. The chimney flume released its hold on the man, and the rest of his body came crashing down into the small confines of the fireplace. Looking out from within the dust and ash was a man with a long white beard, his red clothes covered in soot.

“My my, this has been an awful night.” Santa began. “First, I land on a house that cannot hold even one of my reindeer’s and I come crashing in. Then, I try another home, and test it first and it seems sturdy enough, but when we land the roof caves in.” Santa stood up and brushed off his clothes. “Thankfully, your house was strong enough to hold my workers, but your chimney is quite odd.”

Alex knew both men behind her were unsure as to what to think. Both of their homes had been destroyed tonight, but only because they’d chosen the cheapest materials to build them with. She had always told them to use brick and concrete. If the situation wasn’t so crazy she might laugh. Now she found they a man who none though existed standing in her living room after destroying Edward and Krystoff’s homes.

“How are you going to get my home back?” Krystoff asked. “It’s completely destroyed.”

The man moved out from the fireplace and into the open. Alex could see that he still had cuts and abrasions from his fall through both houses. She wanted to apologize for what he’d gone through, but she knew that the boys were keeping their anger barely at bay.

“I am sorry for your loss, but I’ve never come across homes that were so weak.” Santa began. “How come you used such cheap materials? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Edward moved forward. “We did not expect someone to land a hundred pound sleigh on the roof. It’s not supposed to happen.”

“I think we need to have him arrested for breaking and entering.” Krystoff replied. “Call the police.”

Alex took in all three men. “Enough.” she started

“He needs to pay for this.” Krystoff said. She watched as he got closer to Santa. “You give gifts all over the world, replace our houses.”

“Ho, ho ho,” Santa chuckled. “You both were naughty this year. Guess this karma thing does work.”

Before any of them could respond the man twitched his nose and was gone before they could say another word. Alex watched as both men rushed out the door only to stop at the end of the porch. Walking out to where they stood she looked up and saw what remained of Santa and his sleigh. He was already gone on to the next house and she had a good feeling the boys wouldn’t be able to catch him even if they tried.

“Hard lesson to learn guys, but one I hope you take to heart.” Alex said as she turned back toward her home. “Come on in and out of the cold. Let’s enjoy what remains of the evening and address your homes tomorrow.”

Both men shrugged and followed her inside. As the door shut Alex swore she heard Santa’s laugh fill her house, the empty spot below her tree suddenly filled with boxes of all sizes. Santa had left all their presents in one place. At least the holiday wasn’t a total loss. She just hoped the boys had learned their lesson.

 Find Robyn Here…

website: www.rgporter.net

blog: www.rgporter.blogspot.com

Book link: When Darkness Falls: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006KRYMM4

Thank you for that fairytale Robyn. Glad you took up the challenge. Happy HolidayHop and Merry Christmas! 🙂

Remember, Readers there is a contest going on this blog for the HolidayHop. Read all the rules and take up the challenge here There are fantastic prizes, just here on this blog you can win an ebook copy of an amazing collection of short stories plus you go into the grand HolidayHop prize draw for the Kindle Touch.Don’t forget to hop to the other bloggers this holiday season and let the festive spirit infect you! 

#HolidayHop brings you Jesse Kimmel-Freeman

Click here to go blog hopping to more than 60 Holiday Hoppers...win prizes, enter contests and meet amazing indie authors...

Today I have the pleasure of featuring a fairytale re-imagined by Jesse Kimmel-Freeman…She has re-imagined Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time there was a seventeen-year-old girl name Emma. Emma was loved by all but especially her grandmother. Her grandmother loved her so much she made her a fine red velvet riding cloak. She wanted to ensure that Emma was nice and warm on the long walks that the girl liked to take. Emma loved the cloak so much that she never took it off, and everyone called her “Little Red Riding Hood.”

One day her mother asked Emma to take some cookies and milk to her ill grandmother. Her mother instructed her to behave properly while she walked and once she made it to her grandmother’s. It was important to stay on the right path and to respect her elders.

And so Emma left for her grandmother’s. The walk was far and Emma knew that if she dawdled, her poor sick grandmother would have no sweet cookies to help her feel better or nice milk to soothe her throat. Emma walked quickly and kept to the path.

“Good morning, Little Red Riding Hood.” A man dressed in all red called out to her.

“Morning, Mr. Claus.” She replied.

“Where are you headed all alone?” He smiled at her with rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to see my sick grandmama.” She told him.

“What do you have in your basket?” His eyes glittered like two shiny pieces of coal.

“I’m bringing my grandmama some cookies and milk to help her feel better.” Emma smiled at Santa Claus, her straight black hair following around her hood with the sudden breeze.

“Cookies and milk you say?” He licked his lips.

“Yes, now I really must be on my way.” She walked quickly away for she knew just how far her grandmother’s was.

Now Santa Claus thought to himself, “ that girl would surely be on the nice list. Bringing treats to her ailing grandmother. I bet they are very good cookies and the milk is nice and cold… I must be very crafty if I am to get those cookies.”

So Santa walked behind Emma for a little while. When he was certain of where she was headed, he slipped passed her and went to the grandmother’s cottage. He twitched his red nose, a few stray cookie crumbs falling from his beard and up he flew onto the roof. The chimney held no fire, so down he went.

He slid out the bottom in a nice cloud of black.

“Who’s there?” The woman called out from her room.

“Do not fret, it is only Saint Nick.” His voice full of joy.

“It’s not Christmas, what are you doing in my home?” She shouted.

Santa Claus quickly looked around the room for something he could use to tie the woman up. He found a pair of nylons hanging by the fireplace- along with a pair of socks. He grabbed them both and made his way to her room.

“What are you doing?” The woman called out in distress.

“You’re on the naughty list,” was all he said as he tied the old woman up and stuffed her in the closet.

He pulled on her robe and nightcap and got in the bed.

Little Red Riding Hood knocked on her grandmother’s door. She was tired from her long walk and wanted to return home to hang out with Dominic.

“Come in, Little Red.” A gruff voiced called out.

Emma was concerned because her grandmother didn’t sound well at all. She entered the house and found it to be quite dirty and dark.

“Grandmama?” Her voice barely over a whisper.

“I’m in my room.” She heard the reply.

She inched closer to the room, feeling dread and worry.

When she walked in, her grandmother looked bloated and odd.

“Grandmama, are you alright?” She asked as she came closer to the bed.

“I’m just a little under the weather, that’s all.” The gruff voice told her.

“Oh! Grandmama,” she said, “your ears have grown- they’re quite big now.”

“All the better to hear you, my dear child,” was the reply.

“But your eyes, what big eyes you have!” She said.

“All the better to see you with, dear.”

“And your hands, they’ve become so large!”

“All the better to hug you with.”

“Oh! But, grandmama, your mouth is so big!”

“All the better to eat your delicious cookies with.”

Santa jumped from the bed and snatched the baskets of treats from the frightened girl.

“Where is my grandmother?” She demanded.

“Don’t make me put you on the naughty list too, Red.” The fat man replied.

Emma watched in horror as Santa Claus devoured the cookies and guzzled the milk. His mouth crusted in crumbles. She was disgusted with the jolly man. Then she heard a noise.

She crept to the closet and found her grandmother tied up inside. She quickly undid the knots and freed her.

“Oh, it is on Santa.” Her grandmother exited the room and came back with a heavy cast iron skillet.

“How did you…” The shocked Santa said.

“You think you can just barge into my home, eat my treats, and leave me tied up in my own closet?” Her grandmother took a swing at Santa.

“Now, now.” He chuckled at her.

“I put you on the naughty list, Mr. Claus. Go back to your pole.” She swung and connected with his head.

Down he fell in a lump of red.

“Grandmama!” Emma squealed in shock.

“Don’t you worry, Emma. Get Grandmama the shovel… I’ve some trash to bury.” The old woman said to the girl.

Santa and his cookie stealing ways never bothered anyone ever again.

Follow Jesse on her blog and her website.


Thank you for that flash piece Jesse. I have always loved the story of Red Riding Hood and I enjoyed reading your version. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Hop. 🙂


Remember, Readers there is a contest going on this blog for the HolidayHop. Read all the rules and take up the challenge here There are fantastic prizes, just here on this blog you can win an ebook copy of an amazing collection of short stories plus you go into the grand HolidayHop prize draw for the Kindle Touch.Don’t forget to hop to the other bloggers this holiday season and let the festive spirit infect you! 

#HolidayHop welcomes Rikki Strong

Click here to go blog hopping to more than 60 Holiday Hoppers...win prizes, enter contests and meet amazing indie authors...

The backdrop is Rapunzel’s tower. The story is told from my character’s point of view. Thanks for the opportunity! Rikki Strong

I’d been sitting in the cold, dark tower for hours trying to get a good look at my target. I had been tracking him for days and finally found him camping out in the middle of nowhere. Why he didn’t bother to actually come in the tower—preferring to huddle beside a small campfire on the edge of the clearing sleeping in a tent on this cold winter’s night—was beyond me, but who really knows what goes on in the minds of criminals?

Before I could detain him—without, you know, getting arrested myself for assault—I needed to catch him doing something wrong. But, for some reason, this guy—who had been involved in multiple kidnappings and disappearances of women from Kingston—didn’t seem to want to do anything except sit at the edge of the clearing and look up at the large, out-of-place, run-down tower I had hidden in.

I had just settled in for a long, tedious night of watching the flickering campfire when I began to hear bells in the distance. The sound kept getting nearer and nearer until it seemed like it was right on top of me. I heard footsteps on the rickety roof above me. I knew that the only way in or out of this room was the chimney—it was how I had gotten in the room myself. For some reason, my villain down below didn’t seem to be phased by this. Either he was in on it, or… I took out my small monocular and realized he had fallen asleep.

Good, I thought, putting away my monocular and blending into the shadows. I won’t have to worry about him running away while I take care of this guy.

The stranger slipped through the narrow chimney silently.

This guy must be a mutant, I thought. Not even my countless hours of physical and mental training allowed me to slide down the brick tunnel silently.

When the intruder climbed out of the fireplace, his super status was confirmed. The guy was enormous! That he was able to even come down without getting fatally stuck was a testament to mutants everywhere. The only question on my mind, though: superhero or supervillain?

The red-costumed stranger began searching the hearth for something. His attention diverted, I began creeping silently toward him. If I could take him by surprise, then perhaps I could neutralize him before he was able to alert my prey.

I couldn’t hear the sound that alerted the stranger to my position, but he certainly did. He began turning around and I froze, praying I was enough in the shadows that he wouldn’t see me. The room was much too small for a proper fight.

“Rapunzel?” he whispered in a kind-sounding voice. I stayed silent. He peered through the darkness and smiled at me. “Sorry, wrong tower. Hello, Tamara,” he said.

I blinked. How did he know my name? My real name? I looked at him closer and my mouth dropped.

“Santa?” I asked. “Really? Tim’s never going to believe this!”

“Ho ho ho,” he laughed. “I suppose I should be calling you Karis, since you’re in costume.” He dug through his bag and pulled out an ornately-wrapped present. “It’s difficult finding a gift for the girl who has everything, but here is a little something for you.”

I opened the package and found a small, silver picture frame. In the frame was the last photo taken of my family before they had been killed. “How did you get this?”

“Merry Christmas, Tamara,” Santa said. And then he was gone.

Thank you Rikki…It was lovely re-imagining Rapunzel with your special, imaginative spin. It was a pleasure having you on Dragonfly Scrolls. Happy HolidayHop and Merry Christmas! 🙂

Remember, Readers there is a contest going on this blog for the HolidayHop. Read all the rules and take up the challenge here There are fantastic prizes, just here on this blog you can win an ebook copy of an amazing collection of short stories plus you go into the grand HolidayHop prize draw for the Kindle Touch.Don’t forget to hop to the other bloggers this holiday season and let the festive spirit infect you! 

#HolidayHop Kristy Carey’s “Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder”

Click here to go blog hopping to more than 60 Holiday Hoppers...win prizes, enter contests and meet amazing indie authors...
Christmas is all about realising the child in you, whether you are adult or child. It is about celebrating childlike ideals and believing in good things. This Hop I am dedicating to the land of our stories and fairytales re-imagined. The first person to take up the challenge of re-imagining a fairytale is the talented Kristy Carey – writer, blogger, and jewelry designer. Take a step back in time to the child within you as she spins “Beauty and the Beast” for us.
Beauty and The Beast come alive once again...

He looked into the mirror and saw only the beast he was, nothing else.  With a howl of rage, he picked it up and threw it across the room.  There was no way he could be loved…. He hadn’t been before and nothing would have changed him now.  That didn’t stop the longing in him.  This wasn’t a fable.  Not fairy god mother was about to pop up and make it all better.  Santa Clause wasn’t going to drop down the chimney with a gift to change it all… There was no wizard behind the curtain, with a bag of tricks.

No, he was trapped in this beastly form… With no chance of returning to the person he’d been before.

Moving to the long broken window, Tri looked out at the garden below, watching Calla as she walked through it.  He figured that she was dreaming of her home… Of a time before she’d ever heard or seen of this place.

With a sigh, he turned away and moved toward the door to call for one of his people, telling them to have dinner ready for them in the dining hall, rather then the small room they had been using before.  Since he planned on letting her go home tonight, he thought it best to offer her the best they had, before letting her return to the family she loved.

Inside his own head, the reflection in the mirror was that of a beast, large and snarling.  Fangs dripping, claws ready to rip into the tender flesh of the people around him.  A beast… A monster.  Tri didn’t understand the truth of his unique situation, he didn’t see just what others saw.  But then in truth, he didn’t care.  The beast was there, that part of him that could kill without caring.  It didn’t matter that he had to call it out, that right now… He looked like a 25 year old young man, with white and black hair and stunning, deep purple eyes.

Dinner progressed normally, even with her surprise at the formal nature of the meal.  She tried to engage him in conversation, tried to draw him out, as she’d tried so many times before.  But instead, he kept himself quiet and barely responded to them.  Even when he told her of her freedom, it was as few words as possible.

Calla watched him walk away and sighed softly.  She did want to go home and see her family, but there was a part of her that also wanted to stay and… Show Tri how she saw him.  He wasn’t the monster he thought he was… Even when she’d seen the other side of him, she’d seen that he was far from a monster.

But, it seemed her future was to be spent at home, away from him.  With another sight, Calla packed her things and was soon setting off for her home.

Weeks went by and Tri debated in his mind the choice of letting her go.  He wondered if she was happy, if her family was well… If she missed him.  Spending more and more time in his other form, the servants tended to stay away from him.

So it was, almost two months since she’d left, that movement was heard along the roadway to the large manor house.  Excitement rolled through the servants, hoping it was the young woman returning to them.  The sight that greeted them instead, was what looked like an army of villagers, marching toward them. The anger seemed to roll off them, directed at the house.

Just outside the gates, they demanded the master of the house be brought out to them.  Voices rose in anger at the seeming ‘monster’, that he was.  One man stood at the front, looking arrogantly about as if, he’d been the one to bring them all here.

Tired and lonely, Tri stepped out onto the balcony over looking the courtyard and stared down at the people.  The arrogant man yelled up, here is the master of the house… Here is the one we’re after.  But the people saw only a sad young man, not a monster.  They remembered the young woman, Calla, who had spoken so highly of the man and how he had cared for her, even as he’d held her here… And he had let her go.

Tri never saw Calla again.  The truth of who and what he was finally came to him and he took up his heritage.  The young woman searched for him, gathering tales of his passing, putting them all into a book, hoping they would lead her to them.  Two young brothers helped her as she grew older.

Wilhelm and Jacob never wrote of her story, choosing instead to carry on her work of gathering up stories, believing there was truth in them.

Tri – The Beast, is from a WIP story about the Ulfur Drykkur, my own version of the Werewolves.
Calla – Reprises her role in the retelling of Beauty and the Beast.  Look for her late next year in my novel ‘The Charming Line: Truth Behind The Fables’

Kristy Carey
~waves~ Hi all!!  I’m Kristy, your guest blogger for the day.  I’m almost 30, proud of my age and… Just starting to learn who I am.  Jobless, I’m in school online to get my BS in Business.  ^^  One year left!!!  I’m also a budding Graphic Designer, self taught and mostly doing jobs as they come up.  Its something I have fun doing.  Last year I wrote a novel for NaNoWriMo, and am planning on ePublishing it in 2012.  The novel I worked on this year in November, I’m hoping to have out next December.  On top of attempting to get published, I’m also starting my own business as a jewelry designer.
Kristy's Jewellery

I’ve actually been removing a lot of my stories from the net, as I’m preparing to do some self publishing.  I am hoping to edit a few short LGTB stories I wrote a few years back, into a small gathering and publish those, just to get my feet wet.  All this, while finishing school, editing my novels, building my Jewelry Design business, and generally trying to stay a little sane.

Kristy's WIP - Her upcoming debut novel
Thank you Kristy for awakening the childlike spirit by re-imagining Beauty and the Beast…I look forward to more adventures with your Ulfur Drykkur and Calla. Happy HolidayHop & Merry Christmas!
Remember, Readers there is a contest going on this blog for the HolidayHop. Read all the rules and take up the challenge here.  There are fantastic prizes, just here on this blog you can win an ebook copy of an amazing collection of short stories plus you go into the grand HolidayHop prize draw for the Kindle Touch. Don’t forget to hop to the other bloggers this holiday season and let the festive spirit infect you!