Dear Reader,
A Christmas Deliverance is New York Times bestselling author Anne Perry's twentieth heart-warming Christmas mystery: The festive season is fast approaching, and Dr Crowe and his young apprentice Scuff are busy, as always, tending London's sick and wounded. This year, however, Crowe is increasingly distracted by memories of a former patient, Eliza Hollister, for whom he cared deeply.
I’m pleased to welcome Anne Perry as today’s guest author. She is the bestselling author of nineteen previous holiday novels, as well as the William Monk series, the Charlotte and Thomas Pitt series, the Daniel Pitt series, and the Elena Standish series. She has also written five World War I novels and a work of historical fiction, The Sheen on the Silk. Anne Perry lives in Los Angeles.
For more from Anne Perry, follow her on Facebook at @AnnePerryAuthor. Or say “Hello”. Contact her at askanneperry@aol.com 
Like almost everyone else, I stayed home during most of COVID. It was little hardship for me because I work at home. Groceries and everything important were delivered to my door. I kept in touch with friends and family by email and telephone.
What I did not realize was what a hermit I had become. Last year, I had made a commitment to travel to a 2022 writers’ conference when I thought this would all be over. And as I had given my word, I had no honorable choice but to go. When the departure day finally arrived, I realized that I had become afraid of being in public. Crowds, Airports. Queues a mile long. Delays. Missing connecting flights. I’ve been in that situation before. I also knew what it meant to be the last one standing in an airport in the middle of the night. As they say: been there, done that. Aching with tension, pulling my one small case, I set out. I was quickly reminded that I have a sore back. Probably from sitting in one position too long. And not enough walking. Envisioning long queues of people waiting to check in, I had asked for a wheelchair, which was provided at every stop. I was treated with care and courtesy. No waiting, no getting lost.
Everything went well, nothing was more than a few minutes late. There was a connection where the second gate was a quarter of a mile away from the first, but I whizzed along in the chair. When I arrived at the other end of my journey, I found a taxi immediately. A most interesting driver, and we had a terrific conversation about all sorts of things.
There were roughly four hundred people at the writers’ conference, mostly from the United States and Canada, and a few from scattered places. I met old friends, and made new ones. We were given very smart black masks in our welcome kit, and wore them everywhere except the dining room, or if we were the lecturer or on a panel. And all the time I was there, I never heard a single complaint or unkind word about the masks, or anything else.
After the years alone, most of us were happy to meet again.
Some familiar faces were deeply missed, but that is inevitable.
What I particularly enjoyed was breaking the imaginary bars that had been imprisoning me.
What else have I missed because it involved stepping into the unknown? I promised myself not to let that happen again. It is up to me!
-- Anne Perry
Follow her on Anne on Facebook at @AnnePerryAuthor. Or contact her at askanneperry@aol.com
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
* This month's Penguin Classics is Metamorphosis by Ovid, a sensuous and witty poem in an accessible translation by David Raeburn. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win.
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