The Christmas Cradle. Linda Warren

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      “I’m here to see Ellie Kincaid,” he said. “I’m Santa Claus.”

      Marisa just stared at him. He was in his seventies and fit the Santa persona to a T, including the rounded stomach and red cheeks, although he wasn’t wearing a costume. But that was minor. The store had done a great job in hiring someone so authentic.

      He sat down on one of the office chairs and Ellie climbed onto his knee. “What did you want to see me about, little angel?”

      “I wrote you a lot of letters asking for a mommy, and you never sent me one.”

      “Don’t fret, Ellie,” he said. “You’ll have your mommy before Christmas.”

      Ellie threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” She leaned back and tugged on his beard. “My friend Lori says you’re not real and that your beard’s fake, but it is real, just like I told her.”

      He stood, setting the child on her feet. “Yes, I’m real. Never be afraid to believe, Ellie. It’s a very powerful emotion.”

      The man walked to the door and then stopped. He touched the back of his hand to Marisa’s face. “You’re never too old to believe, Marisa.”

      She was so surprised by his touch and the sincerity in his eyes that words eluded her. What did he mean? And how did he know her name?

      Dear Reader,

      Fifteen years ago I had an idea for a book. At the time I was recovering from several surgeries and my mind was clouded by medication. That’s my only excuse. But I’d read Harlequin romances for years, so I was sure I had an understanding of what was required in a story. Even today as I think about my stupidity, it’s hard to keep from laughing.

      I started writing longhand in a spiral notebook. I wrote every day and soon I had a stack of notebooks. My husband bought me an electric typewriter, and it took me several months to type and edit my story into manuscript form.

      When I finished, I mailed my treasured work to Harlequin. I promptly got a rejection. Then another. And another. One editor sent me a nice two-page rejection letter. Ten years later I made my first sale (a Harlequin Superromance novel called The Truth about Jane Doe) to that editor. In one of our talks a while back, she asked me about my first manuscript. I was stunned. She suggested I write another proposal based on that idea. I did. She bought it. The Silent Cradle from long ago is now The Christmas Cradle for American Romance.

      This book is very dear to my heart and I hope you will feel some of the real emotion that went into its creation.

      Warmly—and with best wishes for a wonderful Christmas,

      Linda Warren

      P.S. I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at [email protected] or visit my Web site, www.lindawarren.net or write me at P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805. I will always answer your letters.

      The Christmas Cradle

      Linda Warren