Sunshine for Christmas
By Mary Jo
It's Christmas novella season and I'm celebrating by releasing a freestanding e-edition of this story plus an audio version. Not that Sunshine for Christmas is a new story. It's one of five novellas included in my Christmas Revels collection, so if you have a copy of Christmas Revels, there's no need to buy a separate e-edition of Sunshine for Christmas.
But it was the very first novella I ever wrote and I started it with some wariness because I'd never written at this length before. (Most novellas are in the 20K-25K range, though they can be somewhat shorter or longer.)
The trick is to get a whole, satisfying story within a novella length, and it can be particularly challenging for a romance, where it takes time (and words!) to build a convincing relationship. This is one of the reasons that reunion/second chance at love stories are popular for novellas. The main characters already have a relationship, for better and worse, so a lot of the emotional groundwork has already been laid.
In the years since, I've written a lot of novellas and have come to the conclusion that in writing them, there is no middle, only a beginning and an ending. The beginning sets up the place, plot, characters, and their conflict. The ending deals with whatever is keeping them apart, then should create a convincing happy ending. So not much middle!
One reason authors enjoy writing novellas is because it's a chance to give a minor character from a novel a happy ending. They're people we've become fond of, but they aren't complicated enough to support a novel.
Sunshine for Christmas is in that category, and it gives a happy ending to Lord Randolph Lennox, a minor character in my book The Rake. He made a foolish youthful mistake which caused him to lose the young woman he loved. Long and lonely years have passed, including a brief and not very happy marriage.
The story starts when my hero, Lord Randolph Lennox, younger son of a marquess, looks out his London window on a thirty-fourth day with rain, and impulsively decides to sail to the sunny Mediterranean to spend Christmas. He sends his valet off to buy a ticket on the first ship heading there, and ends up in Naples. When he arrives, it's raining. <G>
But the weather improves, and while Randolph is exploring the city, he finds himself in a threatening situation created by a flirtatious young girl and her over-protective men folk. He's rescued by Elizabeth Walker, a calm English governess who is fluent in Italian, and they strike up a friendship.
Here is a brief excerpt when Randolph and Elizabeth have just met and are getting acquainted:
She glanced at him. “Now I am shocking you. I have lived too long in Italy and quite forgotten proper English restraint. I could give you a lengthy dissertation on Italian behavior, but it's a rather warm lecture and, as I said, quite lengthy.”
Randolph laughed out loud. It occurred to him that he had not laughed like this since . . . since September. Preferring to think of this refreshing female rather than the past, he said, “I should like to hear your dissertation some time. I know we've not been properly introduced, but if you are willing to overlook that, perhaps you will let me take you to lunch as a sign of appreciation for your most timely rescue? You can explain Italian behavior to me.”
A wise woman would not casually accept a stranger’s invitation, so she hesitated, studying his face as if looking for traces of dangerous derangement under his respectable appearance.
“I’m a very harmless fellow,” he said reassuringly. “Besides, knowledge of local customs might save my life. Look at what almost happened.”
“How can I refuse such a request? A luncheon would be very pleasant. Did you have a particular place in mind? If not, there is a trattoria near here that has good food.” Her gaze flickered over Randolph’s very expensive coat. “That is, if you are willing to eat as Neapolitans do.”
It was easy to guess her thoughts. During his first days in Naples, Randolph’s guide had insisted on taking him to boring establishments that specialized in English-style cooking. “Do I appear to be such a paltry fellow that I cannot survive on native fare?” He took her canvas bag. “I would be delighted to broaden my culinary horizons.”
The trattoria was about ten minutes’ walk away, on a market square. Unlike the residential square on top of the hill, this piazza bustled with activity. The trattoria’s proprietor greeted Miss Walker with enthusiastic recognition and hand-kissing, then seated them at an outdoor table.
After the proprietor had bustled off, Miss Walker said, “I trust you don’t mind alfresco dining? Raffaello wants everyone to see that his establishment is frequented by discriminating foreigners. Also, while the day is rather cool by local standards, he assumes that it will seem warm to English folk.”
“A correct assumption,” Randolph agreed. “It feels like a fine summer day in Scotland.”
Miss Walker chuckled. Then the proprietor returned with two goblets and a carafe of red table wine. After pouring wine for both of them, he rattled off a spate of suggestions. Miss Walker responded in kind, with vivid hand gestures, before turning to her companion. “How adventurous are you feeling, Mr. Lennox?”
Randolph hesitated. He'd never been the least adventurous, particularly where his stomach was concerned, but when in Naples ... “I throw myself on your mercy. I'll attempt anything that won't try to eat me first.”
Eyes twinkling, she gave an order to the proprietor, who bowed and left. “Nothing so fearsome. What I ordered is a simple Neapolitan dish. Peasant food, but tasty.”
For a few minutes they sipped their wine in silence. As he swallowed a mouthful, Randolph gazed over the piazza, enjoying the shifting throngs of people. Housewives, cassock-clad priests, costermongers, and workmen, all moved to a background of joyously conflicting street musicians. This was what he had come to Naples for: sunshine, exotic sights, enjoyable company.
His gaze drifted to Miss Walker, who was looking pensively across the square. Her appearance was unremarkable but pleasant, with nut-brown hair, a faint gold dusting of freckles, and spectacles that did not manage to conceal fine hazel eyes. She looked like the sort of woman who should be raising children and running a vicarage. She would counsel the villagers, help her husband with his sermons, and all would agree that the vicar was fortunate to have such a capable helpmeet.
What had brought her so far from the English countryside? “I gather that you have lived in Italy for some time, Miss Walker.”
She glanced at him. Very fine hazel eyes. “Over six years now. At first I lived in this area, but for the last two years I was entirely in Rome, teaching—or rather, standing guard over—the young lady whom I mentioned earlier.”
“How did you come to Italy in the first place?” he asked. “That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“After my parents died, there was no reason to stay in England, so I jumped at the chance to become governess to a British diplomatic family that was coming to Italy. When they returned home, I decided to stay on. I am quite valuable here, you see. Aristocratic Italian families like having English governesses, both as a mark of consequence and in the hopes that cold English temperaments will act favorably on hot-blooded daughters.”
“Do you never miss England?”
Her gaze slid away from his. “A little,” she admitted softly, taking off her spectacles and polishing them, a convenient excuse for looking down. “A sad consequence of travel is that the more one sees of the world, the more impossible it is to be satisfied with any one location. Sometimes— especially in the spring and summer—I long for England. Yet, if I were there, I should pine for Italy. Here at least I command a better salary than at home, and there is more sunshine.” Then, almost inaudibly, she added, “And fewer memories.”
Privately Elizabeth believes that she'll fall in love with Randolph and he won't even notice, but she'll have some sweet memories to enjoy in old age. Needless to say, there's a happy ending!
The audio version of Sunshine is narrated by Siobhan Waring and it's so new that it isn't yet available on all audio platforms. However, it is available on author-direct.com, the platform for Findaway Voices, my audiobook distributor, and I'll be giving away free audio codes to five people who comment on this blog between now and midnight Saturday.
PS: As I should have said in the paragraph above, the free audio requires downloading the Authors-Direct app, which is easy, but can only be done on Android or IOS (Apple) devices--basically cell phones and tablets, not desktops. These downloads are available in the US, Canada, Australia, the UK, and the EU. So much of the world, but not all of it! Sorry.
Happy early holidays!
Mary Jo