Giada's Holiday Handbook Novels & Stories

I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages.

SUCCESS! Giordana. "Going somewhere?" Philip asked as I ran down the stairs in the morning in nude ballet flats and a pink flared sundress. "Yup," I answered stopping momentarily to see if he had something else to say. "Where to?" "To get Rita ready for her big surprise." He raised a brow first but nodded and turned his attention to the television. "Stay safe," He said. I took it as my cue to leave.

Jana's desk was across the aisle - she was responsible for tracking product shipments while Shelby coordinated accounts receivable. Shelby nodded. "None of us want to go, but Mr. Holiday, Senior, still insists we show up, tug our forelocks and get presented with a new set of livery." "That's it, I'm cutting you off from historical romance novels," Jana said with a laugh. "Although, god, that's just about what it feels like sometimes. Wouldn't it be nice if they'd just hand us the bonus check and kick us out the door early?" "Face it, girlfriend." Shelby wrinkled her nose. "We work for a greeting card manufacturer, run by a family named Holiday. We gotta make a big deal out of the Christmas p

Thank the Moon Goddess that Aunt Rosalie had noticed her growing awkwardness and abruptly changed the subject to suitcase packing tips and tricks. "Oh!" Grant suddenly blurted, rousing Giavanna from her thoughts. "I'm supposed to get your opinion on a tentative itinerary that was created for your visit. It's in the glove compartment. If you have any questions about it, just let me know." Giavanna was surprised by the thick, high-quality linen paper used for the information packet. It seemed silly to waste such an expensive item for something as mundane as an itinerary, but she was learning that the Blood Lake pack didn't seem to care about pinching pennies.

His eyes held a tender and loving gaze as he looked toward Willow, Landon, and Gabriella. It was quite lively and bustling, with the sound of the fireworks going off outside. Then, the chef presented a whole fish dish, accompanied by auspicious greetings for the New Year, which prompted Heather to present him with a significant celebratory money packet. Julian smiled faintly, thinking that he had relentlessly sought power and status back in his younger days and dismissed the simple joys of life. Yet, at this moment, Julian found himself hoping to hold on to it—even if only for one more year!

She stretches her hand forward for a handshake, and I notice the huge band on her wedding finger. “Thanks.” I say, staring at the menu. “Is it okay if I can have a mug of coffee and a turkey grilled sandwich?” “I will get the coconut honey latté and cranberry lime muffins.” Gia responds, flashing the menu. “Alright, ladies. I would love to chit chat and gossip, but I really have to get behind the counter, we are so busy today.” She gives us a smile before walking away. Okay, she’s not that bad.

she said, "but just know that you're welcome." "Thanks," he said, genuinely touched. "And thanks for lunch, too." She smiled broadly. "You're welcome. I'm really glad you liked it." Chapter 35: A Gift From the Boss The next work week was shortened due to the holiday. On Tuesday afternoon, a large gift tower was delivered to Maggie's desk. She was thrilled to see that it was from the Chelsea Market. In the three baskets was a generous assortment of all kinds of goodies like poppy seed cake, ginger cookies, salmon, salami, Camembert, and more. The attached Christmas card had been printed: Merry Christmas, From Michael.

My mother waved for us to join her in the dining room, and as always, Theresa Craft didn’t disappoint with her holiday ambiance. Her and Portia had spent the afternoon cooking and preparing the table with fresh holly and pine, candles and miniature poinsettia plants. The China was a dashing gold, the full course silverware laid out and ready to be used. Christmas Eve and Easter were the only holidays my mother brought out her fine China, and by Kelsey’s bright eyes, she was just as enthralled as both Portia and my mother when it came to presentation.

"I'm coming." "You don't need to," she said. "I know," he said. She looked up. He looked back. "Okay," she said. She went back to the paper. He picked up the quarterly report and started reading it and the study was quiet and the morning was good and outside the garden was doing its growing and in Catania a woman named Giada Russo was sitting at a desk processing transfers she had been uncomfortable about for eighteen months and did not yet know that tomorrow someone was going to walk through a door and give that discomfort somewhere to go.

“Are you kidding? Lettuce, roasted peppers, olives, anchovies, and cheese mainly. Then on the dessert table we have Baci DiDama, which are hazelnut meringue sandwiches filled with chocolate. We have cherry- almond star cookies, and pignoli—those are pine nut cookies. My aunt Lily makes a mean rainbow cookie with an almond filling, even though she’s not Italian. And of course you’ll find some cannoli and various fruits.” Clint went into a sort of trance. No doubt he was lost inside holiday memories that Genevieve eve couldn’t pretend to understand. After dinner they went through the rest of the questionnaire. She knew all the answers. She’d read them over and over, the threat of the dungeon h