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This book was nicely written and narrated. It was a romance that had children and family as the main theme.
This is definitely not my kind of author. Too much God and religion and talk of miracles and too many men crying. The grief they felt over the mother/wife dying, 22 years ago, was somewhat ridiculous. Why the heck would you want to carry that around with you for all those years? The ONLY reason I finished it was because it was only 96 pages long.
I liked Kyle but his grief was so bad you got the impression he was going to pass out from it while they were shopping for Christmas ornaments. He was 9 when his mother died and the family hadn’t celebrated Christmas in all that time, since she died on Christmas Eve. Really? And the tears and sadness when Lexie suggested they talk about “mama” was unbelievable. This author was trying for a heartfelt story but all she got was one totally crazy.
It was silly with Lexie lying to her kids and making them miss Kyle’s book signing at the beginning and when she kept calling Kyle a “snowman murderer.” And Lexie was a little too perfect for me. Couldn't she have, at least, one flaw, other than making bad fudge? She was the new Martha Stewart, with her own TV show and she did everything perfect (except the fudge.)
There was one kiss at the end of the story. There was no swearing and all any of the adults drank was eggnog and hot cocoa. It was so rated-G it was nearly disgusting.
As to the narration: Anne Johnstonbrown had the men sounding like women but the hero’s voice was the worst, and she read without emotion. I would never recommend this narrator.