UNDATED VERSION OF A DOOR COUNTY CHRISTMAS! Hot off the press!

Check out this new and updated version! Don't you love the cover!

If you look online, check specifically for this edition, as the older cover is only available from third party sellers.

Right now, the digital version is available for only $.99! But it's also available in print.

Frozen Custard Addict

Joanna, here.

Amanda's thinking about lakes. She's such a romantic.

I'm thinking frozen custard.

This fall has proved warmer than usual, but is that relevant? Not for me, a lifetime addict. Not Licked Yet, my frozen custard mecca in Fish Creek--and the world--keeps a toes-toasty fire going on chilly days. It's the perfect place to snuggle with a fellow addict--in my case, Paul--and snarf down a sundae or two. Or three.

Today, will I go with my usual Door County Sundae, with its creamy, dreamy frozen custard immersed in hot cherries and hot fudge with mounds of whipped cream?

Paul swears by the Yankee Snickerdoodle Doo Sundae--frozen custard between two yummy cookies, covered with hot caramel. My author loves that one, too. Really, dear, you might have gone with the smaller size.

We'll all have to put a few dozen miles on our bikes to handle this treat. Is it worth it?

Oh, yeah. . . .

What is it about water?

Amanda, here. I don't know what it is about water, but it's always soothed me. The look of it. The sound of it. Here in Door County it can be raucous and wind-whipped, goose-pimpled and timid, or smooth as a satin pillowcase and just as comforting.

The harbors in Door County have an uncanny voice. They say, "Come sit here by the edge of the water and we'll talk about what you're going through."

I suppose like a counselor who knows when to keep his mouth shut...or like the Lord, Who doesn't have to say ANYTHING to get His point across to me sometimes...the water listens.

Jordan listens to me.

In a way few humans ever have.

Except his mother.

Where is Lola? She'd love this view.

Getting Acquainted in Door County

Joanna here, sharing photos of my author friends Rachael, Eileen, Becky, and Cynthia, who came to Door County to get to know me, Maddy, Jillian, and Amanda better. What a fun fall day--chilly, but gorgeous! How can the sparkling waves of Green Bay look so achingly blue?

Earlier, Jilli posted lovely outdoor scenes from the artist colony we all visited. Here's an inside view of one of the buildings. With the golden light, soaring ceiling, and magic windows, would there be any better place to write a novel?

Since a bed and breakfast figures prominently in A Door County Christmas, they had to explore rooms in the White Gull Inn. Nosy authors, but they were women on a mission. They were writing about Door County, and they wanted to get it right!

After only one day, Maddy, Jilli, Amanda and I felt like we had known them all our lives.

The People Who Created Us

Hi. Amanda here. I'm the one who was drafted into serving as innkeeper while Lola--the one who knows what she's doing...most of the time--is... Well, I'd better let you read about her adventure in the pages of A DOOR COUNTY CHRISTMAS, The Heart's Harbor.

I'm stopping by to let you know that those people with carpal tunnel and stiff neck muscles and cups of tea sitting all over the place--our authors--are being interviewed this week on Jan Newby's blog. You can find it here: http://janmarienewby.blogspot.com/

Please jog or snowshoe on over to Jan's blog. I learned a lot about the person who penned me. No wonder I have issues!

Love on Wheels

In the movies, two-in-a-canoe scenes are romantic. Horseback rides, too, in the brisk morning air as the heroine and hero eye each other adoringly. Do that on bicycles, and you and your honey may exchange longing looks across the emergency room from his-and-her body casts.

Still, cycling is a fun couple thing, especially in beautiful Door County, Wisconsin.

"Joanna, God did some of His finest work here," my late husband always said.

Now, my bike is buried under piles of unopened boxes in the garage of our dream retirement home. I don't like to ride alone. But the guy next door--the one with the awful haircut and the Goodwill flannel shirt--just pedaled off on a classic Raleigh.

Bad taste in clothes. Good taste in bikes. Hmmm.