Wednesday, December 22, 2010


I couldn't come up with anything for today--it's just that busy both in my day job and my writing job. Remind me not to plan a deadline around Christmas next year, 'kay?

But that doesn't mean I can't give stuff way, does it?

I'm going to pick three winners at random from the comments, and you'll get your choice of A) $10 eGiftcard from the online bookseller of your choosing: B) your choice of any book on eHarlequin, including Mira and HQN books, which I'll order and send to your address or C) a copy of any of my books, up to and including my August and September 2010 books, autographed and personalized by me.

You will not hurt my feelings if you don't choose my books. I'm going to assume you either already own them or you love me as an author enough to want to buy them yourself so I'll make the royalties. Right? Right?

And just so you don't have to comment at random, let's see if I can come up with a Christmas related question to discuss in the comments...hmm...

How about, "How old were you when you began to doubt the existence of Santa Claus? And what made you doubt the jolly old soul existed?"

And if you still believe in Santa...well, you can make your case in the comments as well. :)


EllenToo said...

I don't remember at exactly what age this occurred (somewhere around five or six) but I had an older brother who woke me up one Christmas morning and we snuck into the living room to catch Daddy putting Santa presents under the tree. We never did tell him we saw him and we let him believe that we believed for years after that.

And by the way I am really looking forward to your 2011 series.

Anonymous said...

I was around 8. I accidently found mine and my brother's bikes hidden in the garage.

Amanda Gardner said...

About the age of ten was when I started to notice the handwriting on the tags for the presents were my parents' handwriting. I also had saw them wrapping some of the gifts that were from Santa.

MJFredrick said...

I think I was nine. My friends told me, I snooped and discovered they were right. I was heartbroken.

And I do own all your books :)

Marianne Arkins said...

I was Christmas in sixth grade... I don't know what made me suspect, but I begged to be allowed to stay up in the living room all night to wait for Santa. I did, in the recliner, but eventually fell asleep and when I woke, the stockings were full.

I made it one more year, but junior high did me in! LOL...

And I have everything you have out so far (but several are in eBook, so ... hmmm... maybe paper?).

Have an awesome day!

Nas Dean said...

I still beleive in the magic of Christmas. I might know that the jolly old man is a figment of our imagination, but I beleive in him!

I've got some of your books though not the latest releases!
Hey Paula check out this link:
It's a facebook link and as you are my friend on FB, you'll be able to see someone reading one of your book!

Merry Christmas!

Kea said...

Since I just won a gift e-card from you, Paula, don't include me in this draw. Thanks.

But I'll answer the question.

I was 8 years old and I recognized my mom's handwriting on a present to me, supposedly from Santa. :-P

I was so disappointed there was no real Santa. LOL!

Christine Bell said...

I remember it like it was yesterday! I was ten and found the guitar I wanted hiding in the basement a week before Christmas. I still love the spirit of Santa though.

Paula said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Paula said...

Wow, so many people coming clean about their Santa disillusionment!

For me, I think I was around seven or eight years old. I know I was old enough to be troubled by the logic puzzle, asking myself the following questions:

1. If we don't have a fireplace and a chimney, how does Santa get in? Does he have a key?

2. How can one man travel across the entire world in one night on a sleigh when it takes five hours by car to get from my house to the beach, which is in the same state?

3. What's in it for Santa, anyway? Where does he get his money?

So, growing deeply suspicious of the inconsistencies of the whole Santa story, I formed a hypothesis. What if there is no Santa? What if parents are only pretending Santa exists and they're really the ones getting the presents and putting them under the tree while we're asleep on Christmas Eve?

I thought it was a sound theory, so took it to the next step: clearly, the parents weren't going to go buy all the presents on Christmas Eve while we were in bed. For one thing, the stores were all closed at that hour. And who would stay with us while said shopping was done? So, they must be buying the presents ahead of time. But where would they hide them?

Had to be the basement. We didn't like to go in the basement because it was dank and dark and cold. Plus, cluttered by all the stuff our family stored down there. It was the obvious place to look, therefore.

One weekend, I went downstairs to play in the den (or so I said) and took the opportunity to snoop around the basement. Sure enough, I found the Christmas stash hidden in the space under the stairs, closed off by a sheet that had been drapped over the space.

I can't remember being terribly sad about Santa not being real at that point. I was pretty relieved, because a guy who could be everywhere at once and break into your house without your hearing him was, frankly, kinda creepy.

Amalie said...

I was six, my older cousin told me. I kind of wished I had known the year before. When I was five, I had Chickenpox at Christmas, and I have a memory of standing beside the fireplace in my panties only as my mom slathered me down with calamine lotion before bed... and sobbing to hurry or SANTA WOULD SEE ME NAKED ZOMG. That would definitely go on the naughty list... no being naked in communal living areas! Only bathroom and bedroom! Living room? Right to the naughty list!

Sue said...

I was in 5th grade and noticed that Santa and my mom had the same handwriting!

I would choose one of your books - I need Chickasaw County Captive to complete my Cooper Justice series. Can't wait for more in 2011!