My Third Novel
Two months from the timestamp of this blog, I will release my third novel Allow Me to Ruin Your Christmas.
I thought it’d be fun to write something set around the holiday season with Houston as the backdrop. Something in direct contrast to a feel good holiday story. Something that would have you, the reader, not knowing who to cheer for. Or whose downfall to cheer for.
Seriously, this story is the holiday train wreck that’ll deplete your schadenfreude reserves. But why write such a story?
The short answer? Because I can.
The long answer? If you’ve spent enough time online or in front of the idiot box watching the news, you’d understand that people love to feed off of other people’s
misery. So I figured playing with my shadow self would be a more productive way of channeling my energy. It helped when I wrote When America Fell Silent to show people that THIS IS WHAT A REAL DICTATORSHIP LOOKS LIKE. And it helped when I wrote They Canceled the DJ, which lampoons corporate media and rabid fandoms.
But back to the forthcoming novel, and some fun facts.
1.) I wrestled with several titles until Tui T. Sutherland asked me about my writing during episode forty-three of Freddy’s Huge ASK Podcast. In fact, the title Allow Me to Ruin Your Christmas had barely entered my stream of conscience and when I threw that out there as one of the options, she started laughing. And if that title can get the attention of a former Jeopardy champ/bestselling author, then it behooves me to use that title!
2.) There are several restaurants and a coffee shop mentioned in the novel. They are all-time favorite spots and what better way to pay homage to them than to put them into a holiday mystery.
3.) Two flashbacks are drawn from actual events in my life. The football scene and the garage attack scene. In fact, the latter scene mentions the culprit by name. Talking to YOU, Tony Styles.
4.) I wrote this novel all over the place. Literally. I wrote in the kitchen and in the living room. At a beach house in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, and on a park bench waiting for my daughter to run a cross country meet in Bellaire. Early in the morning and late at night, the characters came to life as I made them do despicable deeds on paper.
5.) The hardest part for me to write was the last chapter. I don’t know why, but I struggled to nail the ending on this book and the last book on the first couple of rounds of editing. Some storytellers struggle with the first chapter because getting started is the hardest part, but the ability to close things up has given me my biggest hurdle lately. In the end, as any storyteller that loves the craft will do, I hunted down my muse, dragged them to the office, sat us down at the desk, and made them help me come up with a fun ending. And boy did I nail it this time.
So this holiday season, instead of the same ole feel good Christmas movies, curl up with some unsavory (imaginary) frenemies of mine. I had a blast creating this train wreck and you’ll have a blast reading it.
Preorder your copy of Allow Me to Ruin Your Christmas HERE.
OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS BELOW
He just discovered why his dad died. Now ‘tis the season for a rampage of revenge…
Beckett needs his eyes bleached. Catching his mom and his favorite podcaster doing things that will get them on Santa’s naughty list is enough to turn his stomach. And after he agrees to officially meet the new boyfriend, his slightly nauseous Yuletide cheer devolves into rage when he learns the guy was involved in his father’s death.
Driven by the need for vengeance, the incensed son sets out to stuff the home-wrecking grinch’s stocking with burning coal—by going after the cheating loser’s wife and daughter. But as Beckett's gore-trimmed plan descends into chaos, another ghastly secret could send him into murderous overdrive.
Is he about to unwrap a no-holds-barred retribution spree?
Allow Me to Ruin Your Christmas is a perfectly gruesome revenge thriller. If you like characters pushed over the edge, dark acts, and family drama, then you’ll love Freddy Cruz’s bloodstained holiday treat.