Welcome to our Blogmas!
From now until Christmas, we will be sharing our fantastic blogs every day with you all.
Enjoy your read for a special code offer at the end of the blog to use on our website.
Join us this Blogmas as we wrap up with some of our 2023 authors as they reminisce just what it is that they love about this festive time of year.

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I know I should say something like spending time with my family, or my children's faces on Christmas morning, but those things go without saying. What I'm going to choose therefore is The Muppet Christmas Carol.  

I was twelve when it came out and remember going to see it at the cinema. It's been a Christmas staple ever since. I try and re-read the book in the run-up to Christmas and it's impossible to read some of Dickens's lines without hearing the voices of Michael Caine and The Muppets in my head. 

We watch it every year (usually more than once) and it pleases me immensely to know that a film I loved as a kid is now bringing so much joy to my own children. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry, and it fills me with that cosy Christmas warmth that only really exists at this time of the year. 

Catriona Child, author of Fade Into You

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Well, I am a bit of a pagan but enjoy Christmas for its celebration of light returning to the world after the shortest day. So I do love the decorations and ritually change the summery flower wreaths in each room to winter ones covered in red berries, cedar & holly. I've a 15 year-old fibre optic tree I gave my late mother when she lost the will to 'do' Christmas - it sits in a massive window by the Fife Coastal Path and hopefully gives a wee lift to walkers as well as me. Xmas Day will be spent with family - my stepdaughter and her 2 year old will be coming up from England, so that will be a totally lovely break before the political mayhem resumes in 2024. I hope everyone has warmth and peace this year. 

Lesley Riddoch, author of Thrive

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If asked seventy years ago to name my favourite thing about Christmas, I would have supplied a list.  For me at five, it was a time of delightful surprises, from the festooning of the house with paperchains and hanging Christmas cards on streamers, to setting up the tree, which transformed the living room into a magical grotto, the glow of its fairylights replacing the glare of the overhead lamp.  There were parties to enjoy, carols to sing, and presents to be opened.  My need for all this seems to have evaporated, leaving one residual pleasure – sending and receiving Christmas cards.  Because this activity, which at first can seem like a bit of a chore, becomes a way of continuing the precious links we have with people we may not have seen for a while.  We say hello, bring each other up to date with our news, and, most importantly, send our love.

Keith Adamson, author of My Margaret, Your Toshie

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My favourite thing about Christmas is unwrapping the book-shaped present that is always waiting for me under the tree. Then it is a quick dive to the armchair in the corner grabbing the old blue blanket from the box and curling up and losing myself in the story, whatever it might be. Chaos may reign around me: the cat has brought down the tree, at least one youngster is on the verge of tears, there is a smell of burning wafting through from the kitchen and the mug of hot chocolate beside me has long since grown cold. Called from my cosy nook I try to sneak my book onto my lap at the table.  Discovered, my air of innocence convinces no-one. Merry Christmas! 

Mary Craig, author of Agnes Finnie

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What I like most about Christmas is the preparation – especially the evening when my son comes home and makes his special Christmas gift of marmalade. I save up empty jars for him during the year, and he takes over the kitchen, piling fruit and bags of sugar all over the table. While the marmalade is cooking (after an epic rind-chopping session), the whole house is imbued with a mouth-watering citrus scent – grapefruit, orange and ginger for one recipe, lemon and lavender for the other, legendary now among family and friends! I love the feeling of industry on Rob’s annual marmalade evening, listening to Christmas music while getting on with our separate tasks. I’m busy hanging cards and decorations, wrapping presents, making cups of tea to keep us going into the wee small hours, while Rob attends to his vats of yellow and gold tangy sweetness bubbling away on the stove.

Gerda Stevenson, author of Tomorrow’s Feast