Not another Hallmark movie.

I refuse to spend another holiday season in freezing temperatures, directing a small-town baker stuck in a love triangle with a single dad and a corporate executive in a sweater vest.

When I told my agent that, his solution was to send me to the Deep South to direct a reality TV special about a middle-aged woman and her festive cookies.

I expected warmer weather and a slower pace. What I didn't expect was a coffin store, people betting on cow poop, and feral farm animals at every turn.

And I never imagined falling for a small-town business owner. That would be so cliché . . . if he weren't also the town's only Uber driver, my temporary landlord, and the son of our cookie-baking star. But he's the most genuine, caring man I've ever met.

Even if he is out on parole from the county jail.