The Chimney Sweep – Five Questions

The Chimney Sweep is coming in November! Here’s what you need to know, and why you should absolutely read this novella!

 

Q:  What is The Chimney Sweep about?

A:  George Elf is sick and tired of stuffing gifts down chimneys. He wants a life of adventure, but he’s stuck repeating the same routine every year. One night, he makes a bit too much noise and wakes a human—a detective who’s pretty sure he’s a drug addict breaking into her home. After a night of misunderstandings and adventure, George finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. He must choose between three options handed down to him by the Big Elf himself, Santa Claus. He only has a week to figure out what he wants before he disappears forever.

Q:  What genre is the novella?

A:  It’s difficult to categorize, but if I had to… romance? There’s a love story at the core, but it’s also a bit of a coming-of-age story for George as he learns about humans and where he fits in the grand scheme of life. It’s a comedic approach to something sweet and sentimental, with a touch of heart-achy sadness. There’s also a ton of fourth-wall breaking to be had, so get ready to talk to yourself regularly.

Q:  What rating is The Chimney Sweep?

A:  Probably a solid PG-13. It does deal with death and heartache, but there are no “adult” situations that are found in most romance novels/novellas. A few kisses, but nothing more. It’s a fun read that would probably be okay for 15 and up.

Q:  Why should I read The Chimney Sweep?

A:  Do you like to laugh? Yes? That’s why. On a serious note, it captures the sentimentality of Christmas, injects it with a bit of humor, love, and sarcasm, then presents it to you in a neatly-wrapped package with a bright red bow.

Q:  Can we expect a sequel, or another story related to The Chimney Sweep?

A:  Maybe! I haven’t ruled it out, but it would definitely be released closer to the holiday. Keep your eyes peeled November 2019!

(Psst… check below for an excerpt from the book!)

Front Cover

Excerpt from The Chimney Sweep!

She held the shotgun up, aiming at my chest. Oh, you thought I was short, didn’t you? That’s another misconception about elves. No pointy ears, normal height, normal weight, and we don’t always wear red and green. Okay, so maybe we wear red and green a lot, but the rest of that stuff is all made up.

“Who are you?” she demanded. Well, that’s a loaded question, no pun intended.

“G-G-George,” I stuttered. I’d never met a normal person before, definitely not one who aimed to take my head off, so I was nervous. Who am I kidding? I was wishing I hadn’t had that last mug of hot cocoa, because her domineering presence in the room made me want to pee my pants.

“Well, G-G-George, what are you doing in my house?”

My lips parted, but words failed to escape. I felt so pulled to her after the sarcasm fell from her lips, I almost forgot she was willing to kill me. She was a woman after my own heart.

And here’s where things started to get a bit dicey. I know it was already bad. She was holding a gun on me, but things could always get worse. We elves have a script for this kind of thing. We’re supposed to convince them they’re dreaming and get them back to bed, then make a mad dash for the sleigh and get the heck out of Dodge. But when I looked into those emerald eyes again, I knew she wouldn’t buy it. So, I went off-script, which is bad. Very bad. You see, whenever an adult human learns of the existence of elves, an elf dies a terrible, painful death.

I’m kidding. Had you going though, didn’t I? But seriously, she could have shot me and fed me to her dog, and not a soul would know because, you know, I’m a mythical creature. But I did it anyway. I mean, if I’m going to die it may as well be at the hands of a beautiful creature. Where was I? Oh yeah, shotgun.

“Uh, I’m not sure you’ll believe me if I tell you the truth.” I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best way to gain her trust, but it was all I had.

“I’m a detective. I doubt there’s anything you could say that would shock me,” she replied, never letting the gun drop.

I didn’t blame her, honestly. Who wouldn’t be terrified if someone dropped down your chimney one night carrying a bag big enough to stuff a body in? On top of that, I don’t look like most humans. I mean, I am human, we’ve already discussed that, but I am what my mother calls “devilishly handsome.” My hair is black, and my eyes are so deep a shade of brown, they appear black in dim lighting. My sharp features only add to the illusion that I am the devil himself. I swear I’m a nice guy, but to her, I looked like the devil come to take her to Hell.

“I… I’m an elf. I’m here to… uh, deliver presents?” It was meant to be a statement, but at that point, even I was questioning who I was and what I was doing.

Her green eyes took me in, top to bottom, several times. A wicked smile spread across her face before she erupted into a fit of laughter. She lowered the gun long enough to calm herself, but I suspected that she could easily prepare herself and shoot me in the gut before I could take a single step in her direction. She was beautiful indeed, but she carried an air of authority and dominance, and I dare not challenge it, especially in her own home.

“What are you on, idiot?” She maintained her relaxed frame, but her grip on the gun remained true.

“What am I on? I don’t understand? Um… on, what am I… oh! The floor! I’m on the floor!” I took a chance and lowered my arms to my sides, careful not to appear as if I were reaching for something. I learned that when I watched a western movie at the Elf Library.

“No, I meant, what are you taking?” she asked again, frustration lacing her tone.

“Oh, I see. No, no, I’m not a burglar. I’m an elf. I leave things. I do not take them,” I replied, quite satisfied with my answer and assuming she would be also. I wasn’t there to steal her things, so that should make her happy, I reasoned. She sighed and closed her eyes, took a breath and spoke again.

“Drugs, idiot. What drugs have you been taking?” she asked. “Methamphetamines? That has to be it. You’re hopping around like a meth addict.”

“Uh… elves don’t use meth. We tried it once, but it slows us down. We couldn’t meet our daily toy-making quota.” I replied, then she rolled her eyes and picked up her cell phone from the counter beside her, checking the time.

“It’s late, so the shelters are already closed. I’m sorry, I’ll have to take you to the precinct until I can get you to a shelter or something tomorrow.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not a criminal on drugs. I’m an elf and I’m…” I realized telling her would never convince her of the truth. I had to show her. “Okay listen, just go look on the roof where I parked the sleigh, and I swear you’ll believe me,” I begged.

“You want me to leave you alone in my house while I go outside to look for reindeer on the roof?” she asked, skeptical as all adult humans are.

“Precisely,” I said. Now she was getting the idea!

She stood staring at me for a long time before she raised the shotgun and waved it toward the door. “You first elf man.”

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