Nell Iris' Christmas

Holidays at Nell’s: Day 7

I start this post with a disclaimer: I haven’t read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

*gasp* 😁

Day 7 of Holidays at Nell’s: Christmas Can Kiss My Dickens by Hunter Frost

Like I said above, I haven’t read A Christmas Carol, but I’ve seen and read a gazillion adaptations of the story (so I have a pretty good idea of what it’s about) and I’m very rarely a fan of them. Idk, the whole premise just doesn’t speak to me and I’m not really a Dickens fan either (*double gasp*) so I tend to steer clear of them.

And here’s a second disclaimer: I very rarely read or like stories that has [Character] hates everything about Christmas in the blurb. What can I say, I like Christmas and I don’t want to read about grouchy people who hate on the things I love. That doesn’t scream holiday cheer to me.

So why on earth did I even pick up this book? Well, to be completely honest, I was looking for another holiday story by Hunter Frost that wasn’t available on Scribd, but this was. And since I already pay for my Scribd subscription I didn’t have to pay extra for this book, so I thought I might give it a chance.

And I’m really glad I did. Yes. Tim is a terrible grump, and yes, there is a ghost from the Christmas past, present and future, but I really liked the execution of the story. And maybe Tim’s transformation was lightning fast and I had to suspend disbelief when I read it to be on board, but on the other hand, my disbelief was already suspended considering the dead godfather ghost in the story. And Henry was a really nice and likable guy, so maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.

This book had an uphill battle with me and worked so hard to win me over. But maybe the rapid transformation of Tim from the worst Scrooge of them all to a decent guy at the hands of a cute, thoughtful, and talented Henry is what makes me like it so much? It really is a Christmas miracle, and boy do we all need those more than ever this year.

Chicago winters and Time were like old friends – bitter, cold, and constant.

Quote from Christmas Can Kiss My Dickens.

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