Monthly Archives: December 2014

The Twelve Days After Christmas

Okay, as a romance writer I hope it never comes to this, but the song is very amusing. 12 Days of Christmas

The Twelve Days After Christmas

The first day after Christmas
My true love and I had a fight
And so I chopped the pear tree down
And burnt it, just for spite
Then with a single cartridge
I shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The second day after Christmas
I pulled on the old rubber gloves
And very gently wrung the necks
Of both the turtle doves
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The third day after Christmas
My mother caught the croup
I had to use the three French hens
To make some chicken soup

The four calling birds were a big mistake
For their language was obscene

The five golden rings were completely fake
and turned my fingers green.

The sixth day after Christmas
The six laying geese wouldn’t lay
So I sent the whole darn gaggle to the

On the seventh day, what a mess I found
The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The eighth day after Christmas
Before they could suspect
I bundled up the
Eight maids-a-milking
Nine ladies dancing
Ten lords-a-leaping
Eleven pipers piping
Twelve drummers drumming–well, actually, I kept one of the drummers
And sent them back collect
I wrote my true love
“We are through, love!”
And I said in so many words
“Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the Birds!”

Thursday Threads

Double TLove on the Double T by Patricia Hudson

Western Romance


Buy link:


Molly Mckintock has had enough! She and her daughter, Joanna, escape the terror of an abusive husband and flee to the Double T Ranch in Oklahoma. Never did she expect to fall in love with the handsome rancher who offers her protection, but Joe is everything a man should be. He’s kind, trustworthy, and passionate. The day they kiss in his office, the way he groans with desire, the longing in his eyes tells her all she needs to know.

But eventually, Molly’s violent past catches up with her in this suspenseful romantic thriller. Will her estranged husband reclaim his most prized possession, or will love on The Double T conquer all!


Molly ran her fingers across the worn leather halter as she opened the closet door. How could she not? It hung from the doorknob and had for eight years. The sight and feel of its frayed seams and dull buckles brought the memories flooding back—her beautiful thoroughbred, Daven, flying over the jumps, her younger self perched on his back, the cool wind on her face, a sense of invincibility soaring through her.

When he died, she walked away from horses and never turned back. It was only when she had to get into the darned closet that the vision crashed into her mind, reminding her of a better time. She could move the halter, but some part of her wanted to stay connected, couldn’t bear to erase that part of her life.

With Joanna to care for, she didn’t have much time to remember her past. Her days were filled with the usual things mothers of seven-year-olds do . . . carpooling, Girl Scouts, play dates and nagging to get homework done. It was left to her to do the parenting. John had no interest in being a father.

Molly dragged the vacuum cleaner from the closet. John would be home soon. She’d been busy with errands all day and hadn’t had a chance to run the vacuum. She doubted that he cared, but if she didn’t get it done, it would be one more excuse for him to berate her. There was enough without her adding to the list.

She called into her daughter’s bedroom, “Joanna, ten more minutes and lights out.”

“Mommy, please, I want to finish the movie,” Joanna whined.

Molly didn’t answer. Focused on her chores, her palms sweaty and her heart racing, she buzzed through the rooms. It dawned on her that she hadn’t started dinner yet, and John would be home any minute. Leaving the vacuum in front of the closet door, she rushed to the kitchen.

She shoved the pan of pork chops into the oven and grabbed a bag of potatoes. Scraping away the peel with shaking hands, she caught her knuckle with the razor sharp peeler. Sucking the blood, she rummaged through the cupboard for a vegetable. John hated canned vegetables, but she had no choice tonight and seized a can of corn, emptying the contents into a saucepan to heat.

The front door opened. Dear God, she hadn’t put the vacuum away and dinner would be at least another hour. Heart pounding, she grabbed a beer and went into the living room to greet him.



Twitter: @authorPHudson