Poppies For Christmas by Stacy Keywell
Published: November 15, 2016
Genres: Romance, Young Adult
A celebration of love without labels. It’s easy to be brave with you by my side!
Popular DJ Dexx finds himself positively smitten by the precociously pristine Poppy Paris. Too bad she’s already taken by an older boy, Declan Davies, a beautiful model with a thriving career, and a perfect family. By a dreamful stroke of chance, Dexx finds himself invited to spend Christmas at the Davies home by a gorgeous girl, granting him the opportunity to pursue the precious Poppy. But in his quest to win her over, he unlocks a world of imperfection and insecurity, where people are picked on for their disabilities, speech, appearance, and eccentricities. For Poppy and her friends, love trumps labels, and everyone deserves a brave friend to stand by their side. What gifts will Dexx discover this Christmas? Will he ultimately find true love, or will he discover something even greater?
You are invited to read a powerful story about living with autism, but not letting it define you, about being bullied, but carrying on with determination and grit, and about having dreams, but not giving up in the face of adversity. Come celebrate something beautiful with Poppies for Christmas.
Goodreads / Amazon
Poppies for Christmas Excerpt #2
Stuck in a daze, and penned in a maze of forest green velour, Poppy waited her turn in line. She puckered her cream colored lips which happened to match her cream, lace tube top immaculately. A long, knit, chocolate brown coat hung down her back all the way to her heels, Rapunzel’s cascading hair. She wore a cream pair of shorts with brown thigh-high stockings to keep warm. She’d tied her hair back in a thick, dark ponytail which wagged at me as she marched toward the cashier.
Smiling and nodding at the barista, Poppy grabbed something green. A matcha tea frappe perhaps, with tons of whip, and a bottle of organic, green, vitamin-enhanced juice. She slurped from her tall straw while she carried the bottle with her in the other hand. I followed behind, leaving some distance between us, as to not get caught.
Poppy slowly headed back toward the store with the insane line. Ignoring the roped off area, she entered, and walked in back. She greeted a man at the end of a long, white clothed table. I watched, cowering in the corner by a sales rack near the front. She smiled wide at the man. He turned his face toward the door. It was him!
My body froze, unsure of how to take another step. As I had predicted, I recognized him straight away. Poppy stood next to him, a tall guy with wavy, dark hair, and piercing eyes. Towering over her, he bent down and pecked her on the cheek, warmly rubbing her on the back of her chocolate sweater. She nodded, then backed up as the crowd slowly crept through the doorway, and down the line.
Mr. Model stood rigid as he greeted his guests. He occasionally bowed chivalrously at his teen admirers. He flashed them with his blinding white smile, and posed for endless pictures, signing their bags. Trembling girls cried. They snapped shameless selfies with him, or touched his muscular biceps. With each new admirer, he simply repeated his chivalrous routine, his act of bowing and smiling, smiling and bowing, flexing and signing, signing, and flexing. Over and over again, with tireless enthusiasm, as the assembly line of teeny-bopper girls swooned, screeched, clawed, and cried over his mythical beauty.
In the background, Poppy swayed to the loud music that blasted from the speakers mounted throughout the store. Bored or antsy, she wandered around the back of the table, and danced. A few of the employees giggled at her charade, pointing at her. One worker even attempted to join her until a stern-eyed manager type put the kibosh on the unauthorized entertainment with a fierce look, warning against joining the Poppy party.
Like the others, I wanted to join the Poppy party. A few model dudes murmured things to Poppy who sashayed away. She headed over to some nearby clothing racks. She picked through the flannel tops and ripped jeans her mousy friend favored. This caused Mr. Model to frown. His lip trembled from her absence. I cackled to myself, glad to see her break away from Mr. Perfect. But, I grew chagrined once she boogied right back to his side, squelching his pouty face. She ceased her swaying, and fell into rocking back and forth. She examined the ceiling to pass the time during this tedious event.
Stacy Renée Keywell enjoys spending time misusing, mispronouncing, and misspelling languages, especially in her native tongue, English. When she is not stargazing or daydreaming she creates adventures for her family to conquer. Besides following her whimsical dreams, Stacy likes to sing to the music in her head, dance poorly, and compose non-sensical words. She is also the author of Forbidden Sky- Book One of the Dark Wing Series. Stacy resides in Michigan in a little house in the woods with her husband, and two daughters.
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