A teen girl gets the perfect second try at a first kiss in this hilarious, romp-filled young adult romantic comedy perfect for fans of Jenna Evans Welch and Hallmark Christmas movies. Francie was born in a stable. Really. Granted, it was the deluxe model with the light-up star on the roof, one of the many Christmas items for sale at her family’s Hollydale Holiday Shop. Their holiday gift empire also includes the Santa School, which was founded by Francie’s beloved grandpa, who recently passed away. Francie’s always loved working in the shop, but lately Aunt Carole has been changing everything with her ideas for too-slick, Hollywood-inspired Santas and horrible holiday-themed employee uniforms. Aunt Carole’s vision will ruin all the charm and nostalgia Francie loves about her family’s business…unless she does something about it. But this winter is about more than preserving the magic of Christmas. Francie is saving up for a car and angling to kiss the cute boy who works at the tree lot next door—hopefully it will be good enough to wipe her fiasco of a first kiss from her memory. As the weather outside gets more and more frightful, can Francie pull off the holiday of her dreams? Gr 8 Up-Francie's family is all about Christmas, and their year-round holiday store is well-known in the town of Hollydale and beyond. Francie is still mourning the death of her grandpa, who played the quintessential Santa, but she is trying to hold it together in her job at the store so that she can purchase her uncle's Miata to gain some freedom. Meanwhile, her aunt has moved back to town and wants to alter the store's longtime business plan. In a play to outwit her scheming aunt, Francie portrays Santa's intern on a local cable show that ends up going viral. As a result, Francie must spend hours writing back to all the children who write to Santa. Francie is the target of bullying by her school's hockey team for a kissing debacle when she was 13, and wonders if her new crush, the boy who works at the Christmas tree lot across the street from Francie's family store, will turn into something more. Even with the inclusion of family and bullying issues, this is a light, fun read. All characters are white, except for Francie's love interest, who is Latinx. VERDICT The perfect choice for rom-com fans who love the enchantment of the Christmas season.-Elizabeth Kahnα(c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. "Even with the inclusion of family and ­bullying issues, this is a light, fun read. . . .The perfect choice for rom-com fans who love the enchantment of the Christmas season." -- School Library Journal "The romantic plotline is strong but does not overshadow the treatment of friendship, grief, money worries, and more. Readers will relate to Francie’s feelings. . . Will delight readers looking for a romance with humor and heart." ― Kirkus Reviews Linda Urban has written many award-winning books for young readers, including the novels Almost There and Almost Not , A Crooked Kind of Perfect , Hound Dog True , The Center of Everything , and Talk Santa to Me . For ten years, she served as marketing director at Vroman’s Bookstore in Pasadena, California. Currently, she teaches in the Writing for Children and Young Adults program at Vermont College of Fine Arts. She has been visited by only one ghost, and he was not at all snooty. Visit her at LindaUrbanBooks.com. Chapter 1: November 1 1 NOVEMBER 1 I am already saying I’m sorry when I fling open the door of Uncle Jack’s truck. I’m sorry for making him wait, sorry my Santa alarm didn’t go off, sorry that even though I knew he was doing me a special favor by picking me up at the pre-crack of dawn on his way home from All Saints’ Day Mass so I wouldn’t have to ride the freezing-cold bus to Hollydale High School, I was not waiting on my front porch for him as promised. Instead I had awakened fewer than five minutes earlier, when the distant rumble of his truck turning onto Santa Claus Lane penetrated the rather excellent dream I was having about road tripping in Uncle Jack’s pristine, vintage Miata with a teenage, pre-Wakanda Michael B. Jordan. From the moment I woke up, I am about to assure him, I had not dallied but had been a blur of very responsible motion, launching myself from my bed, throwing on the first-impression outfit that—thanks to the wisdom of my best friend, Alice Kim, whose smart-girl miniskirt I had borrowed as part of the ensemble—was hanging at the ready in my closet, and snagging my pre-packed backpack on the way out the door, all without whining, cursing, or turning on a single light. It is that last bit, that dressing-in-the-dark bit, that freezes me mid-sorry, because there, in the dim cab light of Uncle Jack’s pickup truck, I have suddenly come face-to-skirt with a mystery greater than the heavenly ascension of souls Uncle Jack has spent the last hour at Mass pondering. F