Katherine O'Connor often spends her days at a cozy café on Blossom Street in Seattle—where she writes Christmas letters for other people. She's good at making their everyday lives sound more interesting. More humorous. More dramatic. But for Dr. Wynn Jeffries, who also frequents the café, Christmas means lies and deception. In fact, the renowned child psychologist recommends that parents "bury Santa under the sleigh." Katherine, however, feels that his parenting philosophy is one big mistake—at least, based on her five-year-old twin nieces, who are being raised according to his "Free Child" methods. She argues with Wynn about his theories, while he argues that her letters are nothing but lies. They disagree about practically everything—and yet, somehow, they don't really want to stop arguing. As the days—and nights—move closer to Christmas, Katherine and Wynn both discover that love means accepting your differences. And Christmas is about the things you share…. Similar in format to Keys to the Imagination [BKL F 1 06], a previous StoryWatchers Club episode, this title features Christmas stories. Kevin Condi relays the story of Marie in "A Gift for Santa," and Christine Petrell Kallevig uses paper folding to enhance "Home for Christmas," a nineteenth-century immigrant tale of unselfishness. Mary Jo Huff humorously relays that Santa is under the weather in "Christmas Is Cancelled," while Michael R. Kasony-O'Malley concludes with a recitation of "The Christmas Fairy of Strasburg," a participation tale that takes an original view of the first Christmas tree. A multicultural group of puppet friends leads viewers into the stories and helps segue into the next tale. There are some studio-audience shots, but the main focus is on the storytellers. Suggested for holiday and storytelling collections. John Charles Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved "A tale of romance in ordinary people, with a message that life is like a fruitcake: full of unexpected delights." -- Publishers Weekly on There's Something About Christmas Debbie Macomber is a #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author and a leading voice in women’s fiction today. She is a multiple award winner with more than 200 million copies of her books in print. Five of her Christmas titles have been made into Hallmark Channel Original Movies, as well as a series based on her bestselling Cedar Cove stories. For more information, visit her website: www.DebbieMacomber.com . It was him. Katherine O'Connor, better known as K.O., was almost positive. She squinted just to be sure. He looked identical to the man on the dust jacket of that ridiculous book, the one her sister treated like a child-rearing bible. Of course, people didn't really look like their publicity photos. And she hadn't realized the high and mighty Dr. Wynn Jeffries was from the Seattle area. Furthermore, she couldn't imagine what he was doing on Blossom Street. She'd never even met him, but she distrusted him profoundly and disliked him just as much. It was because of Dr. Jeffries that she'd been banned from a local bookstore. She'd had a small difference of opinion with the manager on the subject of Wynn's book. Apparently the bookseller was a personal friend of his, because she'd leaped to Dr. Jeffries' defense and had ordered K.O. out of the store. She'd even suggested K.O. take her future book-purchasing business elsewhere, which seemed unnecessarily extreme. "K.O.," Bill Mulcahy muttered, distracting her. They sat across from each other at the French Café, filled to capacity during the midmorning rush. People lined up for coffee, and another line formed at the bakery counter. "Did you get all that?" he asked. "Sure," K.O. said, returning her attention to him. "Sorry—I thought I saw someone I knew." Oh, the things she was willing to do for some extra holiday cash. One witty Christmas letter written on her sister's behalf, and all of a sudden K.O. was the most sought-after woman at her brother-in-law's office. They all wanted her to write their Christmas letters. She'd been shocked to discover how much they'd willingly plunk down for it, too. Bill Mulcahy was the third person she'd met with this week, and his letter was the most difficult so far. Leno or Letterman would've had a hard time finding anything amusing about this man's life. "I don't know what you're going to write," Bill continued. "It's been an exceptionally bad year. As I explained earlier, my son is in a detention home, my daughter's living with her no-good boyfriend and over Thanksgiving she announced she's pregnant. Naturally, marriage is out of the question." "That is a bit of a challenge," K.O. agreed. She widened her eyes and stared again at the man who waited in the long line at the cash register. It was him; she was convinced of it now. The not-so-good doctor was—to put it in appropriately seasonal terms—a fruitcake. He was a child psychologist who'd written a b