(Photo Credit Bryan Douglas)
Hey there!
The saga continues with:
TRAVEL NOTES FROM NEW YORK CHRISSIE (Not really, I'm from Colorado): Part 3
With the blessings of the angels and a fae called Cookie, we continued on our journey. I called American Airlines a few more times to see if, perhaps, a different agent could fix the downgrade issue.
They all said no, but not to worry, we'd likely get a refund.
Um... Likely?
There simply were no more seats out of the main cabin on the British Airways flight they'd transferred us to.
Not one to take no for an answer, I figured once we got to the gate I'd give it one last go.
My sister told me that she'd never seen anyone get told no so many times and still keep asking. But there's one thing my dad always said about me, and it was, "Damn, you're persistent."
That's when I met Treska.
I freaking love Treska at British Airways in Boston. If you ever meet her, she's not warm and fuzzy *at all*. She sugarcoats nothing.
But she gets crap done.
Here's my theory--if anyone with a "ka" in their name wants to fight for you? Let them. They're serious.
I'm looking at the Erikas and the Karies and the Mirkas out there. All of them are badasses who will fight against airline downgrades.
Treska assured me there were still open seats in all cabins, and since I'd paid for the upgrade already, she would handle it.
Friends. When I tell you she worked a solid couple of hours to solve this, I am not exaggerating. (The one time a long layover worked in our favor.)
And while she did her thing, she placed us in the First Class lounge for our troubles.
(Thank you, Cookie, for whatever good words you put in with Treska. For real, thank you.)
And, so, two days in and we were finally off American soil.
Which was--after ten hours of flight--when we arrived in England... just in time for the Fae Ball to be halfway done.
I was TIRED. My sister was TIRED. Mom went right to bed.
But... Fae Ball? I bought a dress for it. I schlepped tiaras over the ocean and through TSA!
What to do... what to do?
Welp, we decided to toss on our tiaras and at least enjoy the event until exhaustion finally took over completely.
It. Was. Amazing.
I met Talia and Bryan and all the other authors I would get to know over the coming days. I ate mushy peas for the first time. (That's actually what they're called.) I began my tea addiction.
Sigh.
Pure fatigued fae magic.
xoxo,
Christina
P.S. Prefer to listen to my stories? I got you! The Ultimate Romance Audio Package is 8 of my books, professionally human-narrated, in one bundle. →
This post was published
Hey there!
This email is going to a very small group of readers who already have the entire Ultimate Romance Book Bundle.
You already own all of Mile High. The rockstars. Brek and friends. So here's what I made for exactly this moment: Call Him Daddy.
These are later in life heroines who have seen some stuff, met Mr. Wrong, and are ready for their Mr. Right.
The series is waiting for you and you'll notice some cameos from my other characters. (As tends to happen in these books, they pop in to say hello.)
xoxo,
Christina
P.S. You own the books so you're already in the club! There's no jacket, but we do have stickers with the monthly reader challenge! Be sure to check it out.
This post was published
Photo of Mr. Lego Pilot and makeupless, very tired, moi.
Hey there!
Here's the next installment of the saga that was my trip to England...
After the whole bit with the cowboy blood (you can read about that here), I marched to the OneWorld Lounge and escaped the madness of random body fluids on public airport transport.
With my mom and sister, we all sat down for a pre-flight snack and waited the two-plus hours for our flight to board.
And then... just as boarding was to start...
The flight was canceled.
*poof*
Not just rescheduled. Totally canceled. (Maintenance issues.)
Apparently, my airplane pilot dad used to say, "Better to be on the ground, wishing you were up there, than up there wishing you were down here."
Things got a little nutty while a full plane of people worked to reschedule flights.
Not going to lie. There were moments where I questioned if our trip to England was meant to end in... Dallas.
But we sallied forth and got our flight rescheduled. They were ready to fix us up at the Motel 6 (I'm being so for real right now) and then the next day we'd fly to Boston. There we would wait four hours, and then fly to London. There we would wait another four hours. And then on to a flight to Manchester where we'd meet with our driver Bash for the hour drive to the hotel.
My well-planned, minimum-connection quick trip dissolved in a puddle of "maintenance needed."
The thing is, I have an American Express for just this type of situation. So we headed to a Marriott for the night.
(There's a side story here: eyeing my sister. It involved an Uber trip all around Dallas before finding the correct Marriott. That's a story for another day.)
By the time we made it to our hotel room, we were all totally and utterly exhausted and it was, technically, the next day.
We slept for a bit, and when we woke up, our plane tickets had been downgraded sometime in the night.
We were SERIOUSLY ready to talk to the gate agents about just canceling the whole shebang and schlepping back to Grand Junction.
But.
When we arrived at the front desk to hop on the airport shuttle we were met with a man I am convinced was either:
1. A fae from the English countryside sent to our aid
2. An angel from Touched By An Angel (Remember? In the 1990s?)
His name was, and I am not kidding, *Cookie.*
He wore an old-time English stocking cap. (We never saw his ears... and it was HOT in Dallas.)
He also accepted tips via Zelle. Which is only odd because... wouldn't cash be more normal?
Anyhoo... we popped onto the shuttle and he chatted to us in his English accent.
"Where are you headed off to?" he asked.
"England."
"I'm from England! Where will you be headed there?" He got super excited.
"A small town called Accrington."
"I went to university in Accrington!"
"What's in Accrington that's fun to do?" I asked.
"Absolutely nothing," he said all cheerful.
This was not even just a ME hallucination. My mom and sister had the same exact experience!
He then proceeded to sell the proper English breakfast--toast and beans with sausage, tomato, and black pudding--with such a fierce love that I actually wanted to try beans on toast. He convinced us that it was, likely, the most amazing cuisine on the planet.
At that point we realized we were meant to continue our journey.
If Cookie hadn't been clear enough, there was a guy right off the shuttle stop with a quote on his t-shirt that said something like "Just keep going!"
And that, my friend, was the beginning of Day 2...
xoxo,
Christina
This post was published
Hey there!
Okay... so... I added a lightning deal option to my author store and I'm too excited to wait until Monday to tell you.
To test it out, the first 5 readers to grab the Ultimate Bundle get it for $29.99 instead of $39.99.
When the 5 are gone, they're gone.
No codes or hoops. First come, first swooned.
All the Mile High books + the bonus Anna and Drake short story.
Buy for yourself or for someone you want to introduce to the Mile High (Matched) Club!
Did you know that when you buy author direct you are buying an actual ebook copy of the story that you own?
On all other retailers you are simply licensing the title. The store can revoke that license, if they decide to do that. (I wish I was kidding.)
P.S. Stay tuned for PART 2 of Christina's adventures in England (coming your way Sunday).
This post was published
TRAVEL NOTES FROM NEW YORK CHRISTINA (Not really, I'm from Colorado): Part 1
About the header photo:
Photo of a cow Christina saw in England (once she finally made it). The cow is trying to eat the ivy on the other side of the fence and making it harder then necessary. Which is an allegory for most of Christina's summer.
Hi there!
I wanted to check in and say heyyyy!
Summer is chugging along. Spain has won the World Cup. And I am hiding in my cloffice (closet+office) while I write new words.
In June, I got a scholarship to a writer's retreat in England from Craig Martelle and an anonymous donor. My mom was not about to let me go on a European adventure without her, so she signed up to come, too. Then my sister joined in on the fun and it was a real girls' trip!
Boy oh boy, was it an adventure!
The trip to England to write mafia rom-com began with the first leg from Grand Junction to Dallas where we'd connect to Heathrow and then onto Manchester.
But traveling with me is always an adventure and you never really know what's going to happen or what people will confess along the way.
Which is why I can say that... The moment I knew my trip to England had gone off the rails was the second I realized there was blood all over my hand at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
I know what you're thinking... "that's a great start to a book!"
No, my friends, that was the start to my trip to the writer's retreat across the pond.
Picture it, Dallas, Texas, July 2026 ... we're on the tram from one terminal to the next and I notice the cowboy hanging on to the same pole has very nice boots.
He's an older cowboy with his luggage tucked beside him, just like mine was beside me.
As the tram jerked to a stop, we both held on but ended up bumping shoulders. That's when I noticed he had a gash on his arm he was holding tight.
I don't know why he had a gash or where it came from. I almost offered him a BandAid, but he didn't seem to be the kind of person who really wanted to be talked to. So I let him hold his finger on it and just thought about how much those boots probably cost.
The train came to a stop and we hurried off at the next terminal. I left the bleeding cowboy behind, but as I looked down at my hand, it was totally covered in drops of his blood.
First of all... ew.
Second of all... gross.
I told my sister that I'd meet her and mom at the gate. I had to go wash the blood off my hands first.
She didn't know what to say to that.
Really, though, neither did I.
Stay tuned for more about my trip to England. This was only the beginning...
xoxo,
Christina
This post was published
TRAVEL NOTES FROM NEW YORK CHRISTINA (Not really, I'm from Colorado): Part 1
About the header photo:
Photo of a cow Christina saw in England (once she finally made it). The cow is trying to eat the ivy on the other side of the fence and making it harder then necessary. Which is an allegory for most of Christina's summer.
Hi there!
I wanted to check in and say heyyyy!
Summer is chugging along. Spain has won the World Cup. And I am hiding in my cloffice (closet+office) while I write new words.
In June, I got a scholarship to a writer's retreat in England from Craig Martelle and an anonymous donor. My mom was not about to let me go on a European adventure without her, so she signed up to come, too. Then my sister joined in on the fun and it was a real girls' trip!
Boy oh boy, was it an adventure!
The trip to England to write mafia rom-com began with the first leg from Grand Junction to Dallas where we'd connect to Heathrow and then onto Manchester.
But traveling with me is always an adventure and you never really know what's going to happen or what people will confess along the way.
Which is why I can say that... The moment I knew my trip to England had gone off the rails was the second I realized there was blood all over my hand at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
I know what you're thinking... "that's a great start to a book!"
No, my friends, that was the start to my trip to the writer's retreat across the pond.
Picture it, Dallas, Texas, July 2026 ... we're on the tram from one terminal to the next and I notice the cowboy hanging on to the same pole has very nice boots.
He's an older cowboy with his luggage tucked beside him, just like mine was beside me.
As the tram jerked to a stop, we both held on but ended up bumping shoulders. That's when I noticed he had a gash on his arm he was holding tight.
I don't know why he had a gash or where it came from. I almost offered him a BandAid, but he didn't seem to be the kind of person who really wanted to be talked to. So I let him hold his finger on it and just thought about how much those boots probably cost.
The train came to a stop and we hurried off at the next terminal. I left the bleeding cowboy behind, but as I looked down at my hand, it was totally covered in drops of his blood.
First of all... ew.
Second of all... gross.
I told my sister that I'd meet her and mom at the gate. I had to go wash the blood off my hands first.
She didn't know what to say to that.
Really, though, neither did I.
Stay tuned for more about my trip to England. This was only the beginning...
xoxo,
Christina
This post was published
TRAVEL NOTES FROM NEW YORK CHRISTINA (Not really, I'm from Colorado): Part 1
About the header photo:
Photo of a cow Christina saw in England (once she finally made it). The cow is trying to eat the ivy on the other side of the fence and making it harder then necessary. Which is an allegory for most of Christina's summer.
Hi there!
I wanted to check in and say heyyyy!
Summer is chugging along. Spain has won the World Cup. And I am hiding in my cloffice (closet+office) while I write new words.
In June, I got a scholarship to a writer's retreat in England from Craig Martelle and an anonymous donor. My mom was not about to let me go on a European adventure without her, so she signed up to come, too. Then my sister joined in on the fun and it was a real girls' trip!
Boy oh boy, was it an adventure!
The trip to England to write mafia rom-com began with the first leg from Grand Junction to Dallas where we'd connect to Heathrow and then onto Manchester.
But traveling with me is always an adventure and you never really know what's going to happen or what people will confess along the way.
Which is why I can say that... The moment I knew my trip to England had gone off the rails was the second I realized there was blood all over my hand at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
I know what you're thinking... "that's a great start to a book!"
No, my friends, that was the start to my trip to the writer's retreat across the pond.
Picture it, Dallas, Texas, July 2026 ... we're on the tram from one terminal to the next and I notice the cowboy hanging on to the same pole has very nice boots.
He's an older cowboy with his luggage tucked beside him, just like mine was beside me.
As the tram jerked to a stop, we both held on but ended up bumping shoulders. That's when I noticed he had a gash on his arm he was holding tight.
I don't know why he had a gash or where it came from. I almost offered him a BandAid, but he didn't seem to be the kind of person who really wanted to be talked to. So I let him hold his finger on it and just thought about how much those boots probably cost.
The train came to a stop and we hurried off at the next terminal. I left the bleeding cowboy behind, but as I looked down at my hand, it was totally covered in drops of his blood.
First of all... ew.
Second of all... gross.
I told my sister that I'd meet her and mom at the gate. I had to go wash the blood off my hands first.
She didn't know what to say to that.
Really, though, neither did I.
Stay tuned for more about my trip to England. This was only the beginning...
xoxo,
Christina
This post was published
TRAVEL NOTES FROM NEW YORK CHRISTINA (Not really, I'm from Colorado): Part 1
About the header photo:
Photo of a cow Christina saw in England (once she finally made it). The cow is trying to eat the ivy on the other side of the fence and making it harder then necessary. Which is an allegory for most of Christina's summer.
Hi there!
I wanted to check in and say heyyyy!
Summer is chugging along. Spain has won the World Cup. And I am hiding in my cloffice (closet+office) while I write new words.
In June, I got a scholarship to a writer's retreat in England from Craig Martelle and an anonymous donor. My mom was not about to let me go on a European adventure without her, so she signed up to come, too. Then my sister joined in on the fun and it was a real girls' trip!
Boy oh boy, was it an adventure!
The trip to England to write mafia rom-com began with the first leg from Grand Junction to Dallas where we'd connect to Heathrow and then onto Manchester.
But traveling with me is always an adventure and you never really know what's going to happen or what people will confess along the way.
Which is why I can say that... The moment I knew my trip to England had gone off the rails was the second I realized there was blood all over my hand at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport.
I know what you're thinking... "that's a great start to a book!"
No, my friends, that was the start to my trip to the writer's retreat across the pond.
Picture it, Dallas, Texas, July 2026 ... we're on the tram from one terminal to the next and I notice the cowboy hanging on to the same pole has very nice boots.
He's an older cowboy with his luggage tucked beside him, just like mine was beside me.
As the tram jerked to a stop, we both held on but ended up bumping shoulders. That's when I noticed he had a gash on his arm he was holding tight.
I don't know why he had a gash or where it came from. I almost offered him a BandAid, but he didn't seem to be the kind of person who really wanted to be talked to. So I let him hold his finger on it and just thought about how much those boots probably cost.
The train came to a stop and we hurried off at the next terminal. I left the bleeding cowboy behind, but as I looked down at my hand, it was totally covered in drops of his blood.
First of all... ew.
Second of all... gross.
I told my sister that I'd meet her and mom at the gate. I had to go wash the blood off my hands first.
She didn't know what to say to that.
Really, though, neither did I.
Stay tuned for more about my trip to England. This was only the beginning...
xoxo,
Christina
This post was published
Hey there!
The UK was amazing. I wrote SO many words and I ate SO many biscuits.
I even had to buy a whole extra suitcase to bring back British snacks! I'm going to get myself together so I can tell you all about my time there. Spoiler: it involves the mafia, a fae named Cookie, and getting rerouted through Boston.
But for now... here's a sale!
Because sometimes a book leaves my office looking like it's seen some STUFF.
A scuffed cover.
Crooked trim.
Ink that smudged at the printer.
And once (okay, more than once) I signed a book to "Brenda" when it was supposed to say "Sharon."
So I've rounded up my slightly imperfect signed copies and marked them down. Way down. These are $17.99 books, signed by me, for $9.99.
Here's the deal:
Every page is intact. Every word is readable. The story inside is the exact same swoony, ridiculous, happily-ever-after you'd get in a "perfect" copy. I promise the flaws are purely cosmetic. They vary copy to copy.
Right now the lineup includes On the Map (new AND old covers), Tapped by the Rockstar in the discreet cover, and It Doesn't Have to Be This Hard in pink.
Fair warning: supply is whatever's on my shelf.
When they sell out, they're gone until the printer messes up again. (Which, statistically, will happen. But I can't promise which books.)
xoxo,
Christina
P.S. These are final sale since you're knowingly buying the scuff. (The scuff can't be grounds for a refund.)
This post was published