It’s the holiday season and if you’re like me, you’re consumed with decorations, shopping and tying up ends. So I’m going to make this a brief post.
Two years ago, I published my first holiday novella. It’s a warm story about a mature couple discovering love unexpectedly. Here’s a little taste of holiday love.
_______________________
Holiday Boyfriend
VALERIE
I am still in awe at how a chance encounter in the elevator introduced me to a man who is everything I longed for and the opposite of what I was mourning. Looking back on my relationship with Stephen I see I didn’t pay attention to the signs. What’s that saying, ‘when people show you who they are, believe them.’ Stephen said he wasn’t ready for marriage, and I ignored him. The reality is, he was but not with me.
“I think we did a good job,” Christian said looking at the Christmas tree.
“I agree.” I sipped my wine. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too. What do you want to eat?”
“Hmmm…I don’t know. If you had asked me that before I met you, I would have probably said Thai or Greek.”
“Good options.”
“Yes, but you have exposed my taste buds and now I look at food differently.”
“Really.” He smiled and his eyes seemed to sparkle.
“So, I should probably ask, what do you have a taste for?”
He pulled me close. “You know that’s a loaded question.” He teased.
I playfully slapped his thigh and it felt like knocking wood. Christian was solid. “You know what I mean.”
“I know what you said.” His hands slid down and patted my behind.
I looked at him. “Keep it up and you’ll be getting coal in your stocking.”
“You are beautiful. I could feast on you all evening.” He crushed his mouth against mine and kissed me hard. I quickly gave in to the kiss and climbed onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth and kissed me harder.
I was lost in the taste and feel of him. He eased his hands down, cupped my behind and pulled me closer. I felt him getting aroused as he kissed me harder.
Who was this woman making out like a teenager with a man she barely knew?
I broke the kiss, pulled back breathing hard. I opened my eyes and saw something I never saw in all the years I was with Stephen…passion and a future. How could that even be possible? I’ve only known Christian a short time. How could I have developed such strong feelings for him so quickly?
“I…I…” I tried to stand up, but he wouldn’t let go of me.
“What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t right.”
“We haven’t done anything, although I’m open.” He smiled.
“You’re shameless.” I smiled.
“I’m honest.” He gently kissed me. “I know we aren’t there, but I’m putting everything out there. Valerie, you’ve got me thinking and…”
“Is that a bad thing?” I teased.
“It could be.”
“I need food.”
“I need you in my life.”
“You’ve got me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I told you I don’t want to do the distance thing.”
“What if things were different? What if I were here?”
“Don’t make changes based on a fling.”
“I told you, I know what I want and this…”
I crushed my mouth against his. I didn’t want to think about what he was suggesting…not right now.
____________
I should have known it was just a matter of time before Keisha found out about my secret holiday boyfriend. That’s what I called Christian. He laughed and said he was wearing me down.
Knock…Knock…Knock…
“Come in.” I looked up and saw my best friend of more than twenty years enter. “What’s going on?”
She walked forward and sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk. “Gary said he didn’t know you were down with the swirl.”
“Excuse me.”
She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “He said he didn’t know you were down with the swirl.”
“First of all, that doesn’t sound like Gary, but more like you. Second, what are you talking about?”
“Gary said he saw a woman who looked a lot like you a few days ago being very affectionate with a…how did he put it…a hot Santa.”
I smiled. “Gary is starting to sound a lot like you.”
“I got your shade.” She smiled. “Anyway, what’s going on? Was that your secret admirer?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, because when he saw everything…”
“What do you mean saw everything?”
“Last weekend he picked me up at the office and…”
“Interesting choice of words.”
I cringed. I knew what she was intimating. “What?”
“Is it true you picked him up in the elevator? And that you’ve spent almost every night the past two weeks together?”
“Seems Gary has been talking to Ethan.”
“No, it was Ivan.”
“Technically, it was a mutual pick up and yes, we’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
She scrolled through her contacts and pressed a number. “Ivan, hold all of Valerie’s calls…I’ll let you know…bye.”
“Did you just give my assistant…”
“That’s not important.”
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Name…marital status…kids…family… home base…career…”
“Christian Nichols…divorced…it ended because she cheated with his friend…no children…he’s an architect…he travels a lot for work which his ex didn’t like…he grew up in the city, but now he’s based in Portland.”
“Maine or Oregon?”
“Oregon. He’s in town to spend the holidays with his family.”
She looked at me like she was searching me for fingerprints or something. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I rubbed my forehead and exhaled. “He’s very charming and…the things he says.”
“What sort of things?”
“He said he knows what he wants, and what he wants includes me.”
She leaned forward and moved to the edge of the chair. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“He…the things he says are so…I don’t know if he’s being truthful or just playing with me.”
“What things?”
“I told him about Stephen and he said the breakup wasn’t my fault. That Stephen never intended or wanted anything permanent with me.” I dabbed at the corner of my eye. “Christian said I deserve more, and he wants to give it to me.”
“Whoa…uhm…what?”
“I told him I didn’t want to do the distance thing.”
“Millions of couples do the distance thing.”
“I know, but you were right.”
“About…”
“Romance…love. I thought I was too old for love, but I was wrong.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied with a smirk.
I tapped my fingers on the desk. “Spending time with Christian has woken me up. Call me selfish, but I want more from my man.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I don’t want him to be ashamed to be affectionate in public. Hold my hand, put his arm around me, hold me close or kiss me. Nothing obscene, but affectionate. If I’m feeling a little frisky, I want to roll over to his office or place and…”
“Based on what Gary said, I take it Christian has no problem being affectionate in private or public.”
“No. Our first kiss happened in the elevator.”
Her eyes got wide. “Excuse me. What did you say?”
“When he picked me up we were talking, and then he just crushed his mouth against mine. Girl, the way he kissed me…I have never been kissed like that. I felt it down to my toes…and his hands…uhmmm…the way he holds me is…it’s passionate…he’s…it’s like I’ve woken up and…I have to tell you, he is very difficult to resist.”
“Wow.”
“He’s very determined, but he scares me.”
“How?”
“I’ve only known him a couple of weeks, and he’s talking like we’ve been together much longer. Girl, he’s talking about the future, completely ignoring what I said about not wanting to do the distance thing. Even if I was good with the distance thing, it’s too soon to talk about the future.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but how long were you with Stephen before he mentioned the future?”
“A couple of years, and I was the one who brought up the subject.”
“But after two weeks…”
“Our second date.”
Her mouth was as wide as her eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Within the first seventy-two hours.”
“That right there is big baller talk.”
“What if it’s just talk?”
“I don’t know him, but based on what you’ve told me, I don’t think it is. Sounds like he’s serious.”
“He came over and helped me decorate my tree and apartment.” I smiled.
“I’m sorry, did you say he helped you with your tree?”
“Yes, after I helped him with some Christmas shopping, he came over and helped with my tree. Afterward, we ordered some food and made-out like teenagers. Girl, he’s very,” I sucked on the corner of my mouth. “Yeah, baby boy is uhm…”
“Valerie…Valerie…”
“I’m sorry. What was I saying?”
“You were reliving your youth on the sofa with Santa Hottie.”
“You went Christmas shopping…as a couple?”
I sat back with my arms folded across my chest. “Yep.”
“How old is he? Gary thinks he’s an old man trying to recapture his youth.”
“Tell Gary, he has nothing to worry about. He and I are in the same age neighborhood. He’s just prematurely grey.”
“Seems I’m going to have to find you another Christmas gift.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I told you I was getting you a man for Christmas.”
“You weren’t serious.”
“Yes, I was. I have an appointment with a matchmaker.”
“What…Keisha…cancel it.”
“Maybe I’ll keep it and use it for Ivan. I’m not a fan of that trick he’s been seeing.”
I shook my head, laughing. “You are too funny.”
“Back to you. I know it’s scary being with someone who knows what they want.”
“You’re right about that.”
“So, what about your secret admirer?”
“I still think it’s a vendor. When they reveal themselves, book an appointment.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“What if it turns out to be an admirer?”
“Trust me, this isn’t the romantic fairytale you and everyone is hoping for.”

I’ve always been one of those people who’s trying to get more done, looking for ways to be more efficient so I can do more in the same amount of time. I even taught a time management class for writers for over ten years, sharing everything I learned so people could try new ways to get more writing done. It worked delightfully well for me for years.
Until it didn’t.
Stress and burnout and perimenopause collided a few years ago, and it felt like I got hit by a train. I struggled to get writing work done while I tried to realign my health. Now on a good day, I’m working for 4-6 hours (down from 10-14 five years ago); a bad day might give me 30 minutes. It can be depressing, and that adds to the stress, which messes with my hormones, which clouds my brain even more.
But I’m still the same Kitty, wanting to share what I learn so that I can help others. So I’m writing two nonfiction books right now. One is on perimenopause and menopause for writers. I’m taking everything I’ve learned and all my resources and compiling it all, aimed at writers. I’d love to add more stories from other women writers who have gone through mental and physical health issues, especially related to menopause. Please contact me if you’d like to share your story (kitty at kittybucholtz dot com, and put “Menopause for Writers” in the subject line).
The other book is called Going the Distance: Time and Project Management for Writers. I’ve taken ten years’ worth of my lectures and broken them down into the core elements, and then I’m updating all of the material as well as adding new tips. I’ll start blogging about it soon, but I just finished the outline and I wanted to share it with you.
The 10-chapter book will include the following topics:
If this sounds interesting and helpful to you, let me know! In my post here in December, I’ll start sharing some of my tips and ideas so you can plan for a good writing year in 2026. It’ll be worth it!
0 0 Read more
At the chiming of eleven bells, the retreat’s evening session began. Squeezed around the table, six people scooted chairs until no one brushed up against anyone else. The room’s reddish glow came from a candelabra on a nearby shelf, and the air hung thick with cedar incense.

Jana coughed into her hand and took side glances at the five others. Duvan, whose laughter burst out at the oddest moments; Metrie, whose face was as pale as the ivory cloth that covered the table; Tartas, who kept shifting among her multiple forms so that Jana wasn’t exactly sure who she was at any moment, and two others, whose names and peculiarities she couldn’t recall.
“This meeting, on Allhallows Eve, marks the time of year when we can at last show our true faces,” Metrie intoned, her voice just above a whisper. Somewhere in the darkened room came the slow ticking of a clock. “Place both your hands on the table, and please remain silent.”
Palms down, Jana let her gaze rove, careful not to engage with anyone. She had heard that one of the five—four, if she didn’t count Metrie, the leader—was a transformed cryptid. More precisely, the Pocono Polecat. Research had pointed her to this Pennsylvania gathering, on this night, when transformers slipped however briefly into their original shape.
A tiny camera, attached as a bead to her necklace, would capture the change when it happened. She hoped. Then she’d have the proof needed for the article she was writing for The Cryptozoologist.
Metrie recited a prayer in an ancient language filled with hard glottal stops and velar clicks. A breath exhaled through the room, bringing with it a rank smell that wrinkled Jana’s nose.
Polecat.
The seat where the black-haired woman wrapped in a white shawl had been sitting was now filled with a human-sized black-furred mammal, a thin white stripe down its nose. It laid its two long, sharp claws on the table.
“Welcome, Shkak,” Metrie said, in English. Duvan exploded in laughter, and Tartas blinked through three form changes in as many seconds. The sixth person at the table, the one with close-cropped hair the color of burnt leaves, collapsed off their chair with a moan.
Jana felt her necklace, rubbing a finger next to the embedded camera, hoping it had recorded what she needed. In response, Shkak bared her teeth at Jana, who gasped. The stomach-turning stench overwhelmed the smoke of the cedar incense.
“You’re real,” Jana croaked, trying and failing to hold her breath. Duvan and Tartas fled the room.
“Of course, she’s real,” Metrie scoffed. She held a lace handkerchief over her nose. “Be careful what you ask for.”
A low-pitched rumble vibrated the table as Shkak stared at Jana. It had to be a growl. The polecat’s claws tore through the table covering, making long slashes.
Covering her mouth and nose with her hands, Jana dropped her gaze. “I’m so glad to meet you … as yourself.” Taking a breath and holding it, she dug out her cell phone, opened her camera app, and turned to Metrie. “Can you snap a photo of the two of us?”
Shkak rose to her full height.
Metrie smiled and put her hand out to take the phone. “Be glad to.” She added, “You do realize that polecats are omnivores, not herbivores, right?”

Hitler loved the circus.
According to classified reports uncovered after the war, the Fuehrer would sit in the front row of the circus and cheer on the performers he perceived to be ‘working class folks’ putting their lives on the line.
He loved the ‘woman in danger’ element in the acts, as my heroine Lia di Montieri discovers when she appears in a circus in Germany in the 1930s. I shan’t spoil the surprise, but we follow Lia’s career, her heartbreak over losing her baby, and how she makes a daring leap to join the Resistance to save Jewish children.
I’ve always been fascinated by circuses since I was a little girl. Especially the trapeze. We had a swing set in the backyard when I was growing up and I’d try every crazy trick I could think of, pretending I was flying under the big top, that I was ‘an angel without wings’ until one day the swing broke. Then we moved. As we did a lot in those days.
And so ended my circus dreams.
Finally, I can fly again! In my Boldwood Books upcoming WW2 novel about Occupied Paris and the circus.
‘The Stolen Children of War’ is…
The heartbreaking story of Lia di Montieri, Queen of the Flying Trapeze, who loses her own baby and risks her life to save innocent children from the Gestapo.
An adorable baby elephant named Bebe.
And lurking in the background is a serial killer preying on circus queens who threatens to destory what Lia holds most dear.
I wanted to write a story about circuses with a twist — there’s danger under the big top at every performance… lions, tigers… knife throwers… high wire walkers, trapeze artistes flying 100 mph from the flybar to the catcher, but what if there was also a killer watching their every move, ready to strike?
You’ll find all that and more at Le Cirque Casini!
It’s a psycological thriller with a mad doctor serial killer, beautiful circus queens in danger, heroes willing to die to protect them, baby animal ‘cuteness’, and ‘stolen children’ who will steal your heart.
Step right up, ladies and gents, and let’s go to the circus!
Now on NetGalley for all you book bloggers and reviewers.


I’ve told you before that I’ve been struggling the last several years with my creativity. Most of it seems to be a result of changes in my hormones during perimenopause and menopause. But before that I realized I’d gotten pretty deeply mired in burnout. Slowly, my creativity has been coming back, ideas have begun to flow again, and this past month I’ve been plotting away on my next superhero book. Yay!
The ”how” is partially from balancing my hormones with hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and partially from several small things that have made a big difference. I got a scholarship to attend Author Nation last year, and it really helped energize me. There I met and decided to have a weekly check-in with some writer friends who are “more like me.” (I’m not going to try to explain the specifics; when you’re with people who get you and to whom you don’t have to explain your thinking, it’s so freeing! It really helped open the valve on my joy and creativity.)

That led to me backing a Kickstarter by Johnny B. Truant a couple months ago. He wrote a book called The Artisan Author: The Low-Stress, High-Quality, Fan-Focused Approach to Escaping the Publishing Rat Race based on the class he taught at Author Nation last year. (Release date November 4, 2025 – look for it!) I decided to back the level that included a 10-week college-style class based on the book. We’re just a month in and I’ve already met so many more authors who feel like I do – like, I started writing, and particularly self-publishing, so I could write my way. Then, in trying to learn how to sell books, I got caught up in all the reasons I “needed” to change this or that so that my perfect readers could find me on Amazon and other vendor sites.
I wrote a more detailed post on Substack if you’re interested. I talk about self-publishing and using your voice and standing up for others. Here is the ending to that post. I hope it gives you something to think about. It’s worth it.
0 0 Read moreYOU have more power than you realize. That’s the actual tagline. So let me encourage you to use your words. Use your power. Even if you believe the exact opposite of me, use your words. A world that becomes more and more homogenized becomes more and more unsafe for “the other.” Love isn’t just for the people like you. To Love means to take care of the widow and the orphan, the illegal immigrant and the transgendered neighbor, the politician and the farmer.
That’s how Love becomes the answer.
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She thought marriage would be sex, laundry, and a mortgage.
Girl, was she wrong.
Wedding Dreams . . . and Christmas Fiends
More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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