Full disclosure: I actually like winter. But I live in West Virginia, so my definition of “winter” may be slightly skewed. I haven’t had the chance to burn any hot chocolate calories by shoveling snow, at least not yet. (I may have just jinxed myself – April snowstorm, here we come!) It’s not that I’ve never lived through a *real* winter. I grew up in the Northeast, and I went to grad school in the Midwest – trust me, I’ve had winter. But I’m not going to lie, having some geographical distance from the real white stuff is affecting my memory. Falling snow is so romantic if you know you don’t have to get up early to shovel out your car. Admit it, there are nice parts to a blizzard. Hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. Curling up in front of a roaring fire. Snuggling under a pile of blankets with a handsome guy… Sorry, where was I? Right. Blizzards. The best remedy for the Blizzard Blues is something hot and sweet, like Gavin Fraser, the hero of my novella, SNOWED IN. When he meets Maureen O’Connell, she’s kind of a mess. But he’s a gentleman, and when they’re stranded…