Secret Santas Holiday Collection
Includes: Calista Fox, Erin Quinn, Mary Leo
Publication date: November 2014
Genres: Adult, Romance
Includes: Calista Fox, Erin Quinn, Mary Leo
Publication date: November 2014
Genres: Adult, Romance
Kissing Kris Kringle
In the spirit of giving and paying it forward, all of the author’s proceeds for Kissing Kris Kringle will be donated to The Animal Welfare League, an amazing organization dedicated to saving animals lives and working to improve the way they are treated and regarded by society.
In the spirit of giving and paying it forward, all of the author’s proceeds for Kissing Kris Kringle will be donated to The Animal Welfare League, an amazing organization dedicated to saving animals lives and working to improve the way they are treated and regarded by society.
Kris Kringle is just an average guy living in the tiny town of North
Pole, Maine where Christmas isn’t just a holiday—it’s a way of life. But
not for Kris. He might be named after the big guy in red, but Kris is
more Scrooge than Santa.
Until he wakes up from a night of partying with his friends to find
himself in possession of a Santa suit, a toy bag and a puppy. Kris soon
discovers that he’s been relegated to Santa’s naughty list and there’s
only one way to get his name removed….put on the suit and spread some
cheer.
Lucky for Kris every cloud has a silver snowflake and his quest to
get off that list lands him in the arms of the woman he’s been lusting
after for years.
It takes a little magic, but Kris is about to get everything he didn’t even know he wanted for Christmas.
Kris woke up spread eagle on his kitchen
floor feeling like he’d been hit by a runaway sleigh attached to twelve rabid
reindeer. He remembered going to Yule Tide’s with Nick and Rudy—two school
buddies he hadn’t seen in ages. Rudy, because he’d moved away from the tiny
town of North Pole, Maine years ago and now lived in New York City. Nick,
because even in a town with the population of twelve hundred and two, life got
in the way. Plus, with everything going to shit between the economy, lagging tourism
and finally, the last insult, no snow…well, it made a person want to hole up
and be alone.
Kris had been doing a lot of that lately.
But Rudy was in town for a short trip and
he’d been buying. They’d drank beer, then tequila, then something pink and
sweet with the word fuzzy in it, then more beer, then…well, who the hell knew
what then?Certainly not Kris.
He sat, holding his pounding head with one
hand to make sure it didn't roll off. The other hand clutched a black velvet
bag. Kris stared at it for a moment.
WTF was that?
He had no idea where it had come from or how
it had come to be in his possession, but he had such a tight grip on the thing
that his hand hurt. The bag was huge and at the bottom was a bulge that
indicated it wasn’t empty.
Jesus, had he robbed somebody?
He discarded the horrified idea at once. No
way. He hadn’t been that drunk.
Had he?
Cautiously, he loosened his grip and peered
inside. He caught a glimpse of something red, something white and something
kind of creamy yellow. Frowning, he reached inside and one of those
somethings moved.
With a shout he released the bag and hit his
feet. WTF?
As he stared at the bag, the bulge at the
bottom separated, became two bumps—one stationary and the other squirming like
a whole nest of snakes. Except it wasn’t mak
A puppy.
A
puppy?
Where the hell had he gotten a puppy? And why
had he stuffed it in a bag?
Purhcase Links
Erin Quinn
is an award winning author who writes haunting romance for the thinking
reader. Her books have been called “riveting,” “brilliantly plotted”
and “beautifully written” and have won, placed or showed in in number
awards. Look for THE THREE FATES OF RYAN LOVE, coming in January
from Pocket Books. Go to www.erinquinnbooks.com for more information.
http://www.erinquinnbooks.com
https://www.facebook.com/ErinQuinnAuthor
https://twitter.com/ErinQuinnAuthor
Synopsis
Synopsis
Naughty St. Nick
‘Tis the season for Christmas miracles…
‘Tis the season for Christmas miracles…
Having landed himself on Santa’s Naughty List, Nick Santos is given a
chance at redemption. Granted, he’s tasked with some daunting
challenges—pimping Santa’s ride and fixing the town’s holiday bling in
the once year-round Christmas Capital of the World, North Pole, Maine.
But playing Secret Santa comes with some unexpected perks, like finally
catching the eye of the woman who sparks his deepest desires, Vixen
White.
Vixen has no idea what’s come over Nick this holiday season, but his
good deeds around town help her to remember the magic of Christmas, long
forgotten. And his sexy grin and a searing, stolen kiss under mistletoe
have her wishing her dream of being Naughty St. Nick’s one and only
will finally come true.
All she has to do…is believe.
Excerpt
Nick
sauntered into the bakery the next evening while Vixen tried, yet again, to
conjure a bit of creativity with a draft synopsis.
He looked
disheveled, sexily unkempt. More so than usual. His sandy-brown hair stuck out
all over his head, as though he’d raked his hands through it numerous times. He
wore a black v-necked T-shirt with Yeah,
I Can Fix It scrawled across his rigid pectoral ledge. The material
conformed to his hard muscles, the short sleeves straining against rock-hard
biceps, the hem only halfway, haphazardly tucked into Levi’s that sported
grease stains and sawdust.
Christ, the
man could roll out of bed from a wild weekend and still look sinfully
delicious.
Of course,
Vixen wouldn’t know this first hand. But given how incredibly gorgeous Naughty
Nick was, she considered it an easy call to make.
He was a
six-foot-two-inch hunk of a man with chiseled features, mischievous hazel eyes and
a strong jawline covered by two days’ worth of stubble that gave him a sexy
edge. Raw intensity mixed with irresistible charm and oozed from his every
pore. A lethal combination.
He chatted
with Jenny for a few minutes as she manned the counter. Then Nick slid his gaze
toward the small dining room and jerked his chin in Vixen’s direction, a casual
greeting.
She averted
her gaze.
For one
thing, Nick was a thousand times out of her league. He had a reputation for knowing things... Things women like
Vixen White didn’t speculate or fantasize about. She’d heard enough dreamy,
lustful sighs over Nick to not only last a lifetime, but to convince her he’d
be sadly disappointed if he ever got his hands on her.
Not that he
ever would.
Where had
that thought come from, anyway?
Darn that
Jenny Bells for planting seeds in her head, telling her Nick had rambled on
about her in his drunken state.
Honestly,
Vixen had walked away from more than her fair share of water-cooler gossip
about Nick—his talented hands and tongue...his scintillating bedroom talk...the
wicked ways he could so easily bring a woman to orgasm—to know she shouldn’t
let him occupy a second of her thoughts. The two of them were not simpatico. Never had been, never
would be.
She kept
all those voices, thoughts and the clawing curiosity from her mind. She didn’t
need to waste her time thinking about Nick. In fact, she figured it was best to
pretend he didn’t even exist.
Impossible.
He
constantly crept into her brain. She constantly dealt with the tug-o-war that
was her sensible side and the burning desire she had to throw caution to the
wind.
Such a
dangerous game to play, even if it only a mental one.
Or one now
grounded in reality—because Nick strolled toward her.
She caught
the glimpse of him in her peripheral vision and her pulse kicked up several
notches. He was at her elbow before she could close the lid on her laptop and
escape out the side door.
“Hey, Vix.”
His deep, sensual voice rolled slowly down her spine like warm honey. Making
her squirm in a suddenly hot and bothered way.
He reached
for the chair next to her, jerked it around and straddled the seat.
Peering
suspiciously at him from under sooty lashes, she simply said, “Nick.”
Simply? Yeah, right.
Her tone
was low and sultry. Belying the tingles that ran rampant through her body. The
way they always did when Nick was near.
“Haven’t
seen you in a while,” he commented as he unabashedly took her in, from her
plump, dark curls that she’d pulled up on the sides, leaving soft tendrils
around her temple, to her blue eyes she always accented with smoky shadow and
glam-black mascara, to her glossy lips. His gaze lingered there a moment,
making her breath catch, before dropping to her chest, which suddenly rose and
fell with her now-shallow breathing.
He seemed
reluctant to drag his attention from her breasts, capturing her gaze again, an
unapologetic grin on his face and fire in his eyes.
Vixen felt
the effects of that scorching look to the depths of her soul. She crossed her
legs and pressed her thighs together as a tickle between them ratcheted her
pulse even higher. Heat burst on her cheeks and she had to tilt her head away,
in hopes of hiding her instant, innate response to Nick.
“You know,
you get prettier every day,” he said in is warm, intimate timbre.
Vixen knew
better than to let him bait her with flattery. Even if it was incredibly sweet
and so sincere-sounding that she truly wanted to believe he wasn’t just
mindlessly flirting.
She knew
better.
Forcing
herself to ignore his compliment entirely, she said, “You haven’t seen me
around because I’ve been busy.” Avoiding
you. She bit back a sigh. It was pretty much a fulltime job. “I’ve been
spending time in Bangor. My aunt has a bookstore there, remember? I’ve been
filling in for her staff when they go on vacation or have family emergencies.
Or when she’s just plain shorthanded.”
Her most
recent stint had lasted an entire month. She’d missed North Pole the whole
time. And despite knowing that keeping Nick out of her immediate line of vision
was for the best—until she someday
broke free of this ridiculous attraction she felt toward him—she’d yearned for
those moments when she’d catch sight of him as much as she’d longed to return
to their quirky little town.
But her
Aunt Noelle was the only family Vixen had left. She’d lived in North Pole up
until Vixen’s mother had passed when Vixen was just sixteen. Noelle had married
and now she and her husband were happily settled in Bangor.
“Well, it’s
nice to have you back,” Nick said in a quiet, arousing tone. His bedroom voice,
she suspected. Definitely one that would make a woman roll over and spread her
legs.
Vixen
mentally shook the thought from her head and held her moan in check. Nick did
things to her—without doing anything at all.
How cruel
was the universe, really?
With the
to-go cup of coffee in his hand, he gestured toward her computer. “New book?”
“Not
exactly. I mean, yes. It’s supposed to be. But so far...” She shrugged a
shoulder. “The ideas aren’t exactly flowing.”
He regarded
her a few moments, then said, “We’re all lacking the Christmas spirit around
here.”
“Kind of
unfortunate.” A heavy weight filled her heart at the thought. “Really, that
doesn’t even begin to cover it. I feel like...we’ve all just given up.” With a
self-deprecating laugh, she added, “Not exactly a surprise. How long could
holiday magic last in a town like this, when we were all hit hard with the
recession? Lots of people lost hope...faith....”
“Including
you?” he asked with a raised brow.
“I don’t
know,” she said, honestly. “Not quite sure what I’m feeling. Just that it
hasn’t been the same around here these past few years, and maybe that’s why I
can’t come up with anything to write about. For most authors, fiction is
fantasy. Make believe. For me, it was typical North Pole stuff that was the
norm for all of us in town, and delighted those kids who could only imagine and
dream of living in a year-round winter wonderland.”
“Some
wonderland,” he said with a snort. “And our winter is one endless heat wave.”
“Yeah, I
even had to order more short-sleeved shirts because the warm temps are
relentless, when we should be wearing sweaters and scarves.”
Nick’s jaw
tightened, a hint of disgruntlement crossing his sculpted features. Not a
normal expression for the hot-to-trot bad boy.
“Something
wrong?” she asked, though she knew to tread lightly. No need to get too involved with Nick. “Other than the
fact that it feels like we’re in Florida in the middle of December, not Maine?”
“Just have
some things on my mind.” He seemed purposely to loosen his jaw. Then he gave
her a half-assed grin. The really sexy kind that only lifted one corner of his
mouth and left her insides blazing. “I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Sure.
Right.” Her pulse continued to race for no good reason. “Okay.”
Urgh! What was with the Marilyn Monroe
voice?
Get a grip, Vix!
Purhcase Links
About the Author
Calista Fox
is a former PR professional, now writing fast-paced, steamy books to
set your pulse racing--including the BURNED DEEP trilogy, coming in 2015
from St. Martin's Press! She is an Amazon bestseller and has won
Reviewer’s and Reader’s Choice Awards, as well as a Best Book Award, and
competitions with publication as the prize.
http://www.calistafox.com/
https://www.facebook.com/calistafox
https://twitter.com/calistafoxbooks
https://www.facebook.com/calistafox
https://twitter.com/calistafoxbooks
Romancing Rudy Raindear
Rudy Raindear thought he’d left North Pole, Main in his rear-view mirror. Now, after several years, he’s returned to convince his beloved grandfather to retire and sell his struggling bakery, Sugar Plums – the linchpin in a potentially lucrative real estate deal – great for Rudy, devastating for the town.
Rudy Raindear thought he’d left North Pole, Main in his rear-view mirror. Now, after several years, he’s returned to convince his beloved grandfather to retire and sell his struggling bakery, Sugar Plums – the linchpin in a potentially lucrative real estate deal – great for Rudy, devastating for the town.
But all is not what it seems in this magical Christmas town,
especially after Rudy lands on Santa’s Naughty List. Suddenly Rudy’s
nose is turning red for the tiniest of white lies and the one girl he
wanted to impress, Jenny Bells, is on his case for trying to close
Santa’s favorite bakery.
What’s a guy to do?
Start baking and just maybe Rudy can save the bakery, and convince Jenny that sometimes, being a little naughty, is oh-so nice
Excerpt
That’s
when it came to him. “Jenny Bells! You’re Jenny Bells from Donner Street. You
were my very first kiss.”
“Good
grief, how bad off are you?”
He
chuckled, careful of any actual movement. “Apparently, pretty bad.” Then he
stared at her for a moment as last night began to come into focus. “You were
there, along with Kris and Nick, and some guy who looked a lot like the real
Santa or was that a dream?”
“I
don’t remember the Santa guy, but your buddies Kris and Nick were absolutely
there. I came in at midnight with a plate of your grandfather’s
cookies which you all devoured. Carol told me you kept buying rounds, and
everybody kept drinking. I’m sure the guys are feeling just as bad as you do this
morning.”
“Why
aren’t you dying like the rest of us?”
“Somebody
had to be the adult. After just one of those Christmas Bombs, I knew you three
would never make it home if I didn’t drive. Besides, I’ve been living here in
this attic ever since my apartment building went into foreclosure, so any way I
can help out your grandfather, or his grandson, seemed like the right thing to
do.”
“You
live here?” He looked around at the long, narrow room and could tell she had
transformed half of it into a livable, feminine space, but still . . . “Why the
hell would you live here?”
She
shrugged. “Your grandfather needed some help both in the bakery and around the
house after your gram passed. I needed a place to live. It just made sense. He
won’t let me pay rent, so I try to do the things he can’t.”
“I’m
sure Gramps loves having you around, but doesn’t your day job get in the way?”
“Helping
your grandfather is my day job. He’s teaching me how to bake Santa’s favorite
cookie, or at least that’s the plan. We haven’t exactly gotten around to it
yet. Gramps can’t remember the recipe, nor can he find your grandmother’s
recipe book, but we’ve got ten days to go before Christmas. I’m sure we’ll
figure something out by then.”
Rudy
hoped to have the Smart-Mart deal locked-up by then.
He
sneezed.
“Bless
you,” she said.
“Thanks.
Don’t you miss your own place? I mean if this is your room, it’s not very
private for overnight guests.”
Rudy
felt a mild pang of guilt for taking her bed, but on the other hand, he was
over six feet tall and that sofa would never have been long enough.
“It’s
a small town, remember? Not much guest action going on. Besides, I thought
you’d have a room at the Inn, and when you didn’t, I had no choice but to bring
you home.”
“You
could have slept in bed with me. I wouldn’t have attacked you,” he lied. If he
had awoken and been at all coherent, he probably would have tried it. Of
course, he wasn’t about to tell her that.
His
nose suddenly itched. He tried to ignore it, but it tickled like a son of a
bitch.
She
threw him a little grin that told him there was no way in hell she would have
climbed into bed with him. He had the distinct feeling she knew his game.
“It
was tricky enough just sleeping on the couch. You kept telling me how much you
still loved me. You must have tried to get me into bed ten times before you
finally gave up and fell asleep.”
“Sorry
‘bout that.”
“Accepted.
I really loved my old apartment. I would have lived there forever if I could
have. I heard someone bought the building, but they haven’t done any work on it
yet. Shame, it’s such a cute place. With the right TLC it could be beautiful
again. I’ve been hoping to move back in, but so far, I haven’t heard who bought
it or when the renovations are going to start.”
Rudy
didn’t want to tell her he was the owner and when his deal went through with
Smart-Mart the apartment building, along with this building and several others
on Prancer Street, would be demolished to make way for the mega-store.
“I’m
sure the new owner is just waiting until after the holidays to begin the
repairs.” As he spoke his nose itched again, and he could feel a sneeze coming
on. “Excuse me,” he said, as he grabbed another tissue and sneezed five times
in a row.
When
he finished, he gazed over at her. She had a curious look on her face as she
tried to stifle the grin spreading across her sweet lips.
“What’s
so funny?” Rudy asked. His headache had begun to retreat, and his stomach had
calmed down to manageable ache.
“Nothing,
at least I don’t think it’s anything. It’s just that as you were talking, your
nose seemed to get a bit pinker. Even bordering on red.”
“I’m
probably getting a cold.”
She
giggled. “Does your nose usually turn this red when you get a cold?”
Concerned,
Rudy said, “Define ‘this red.’”
“Stay
right there. Let me get you a mirror.”
Jenny
slid out of bed, and walked to the back of the attic. While she was digging
around through the trunks, Rudy grabbed a sugar coated cookie off the tray and
ate it in two bites. It tasted all sugary and yummy, but as he swirled the
sweet-goodness around in his mouth, he could tell it lacked the proper amount
of cinnamon, and it needed an extra pinch of vanilla.
He
had grown up baking alongside his grandparents, something his parents had
discouraged, and developed a distinctive pallet for every cookie in the bakery,
so he knew when his grandfather was on target. This cookie, although good, was
not perfect.
Gramps
was slipping.
“Found
it,” Jenny said as she held up an ornate hand mirror that undoubtedly had
belonged to his late grandmother.
She
handed it to him and he gazed into the mirror at bloodshot eyes, bed hair, rosy
cheeks and an unnaturally deep red nose.
“What
the hell?”
It
was at that moment when Rudy remembered exactly what that Santa guy with the
white beard and heavy black boots had said to him, or rather, sang to him as
they stood outside in some cold place that looked an awful lot like the real
North Pole, complete with miles of packed icy snow, and several reindeer
grazing alongside a huge log cabin. There may have even been an elf or two
visible through a snowy window.
You
better look out. You better not lie. You better not doubt, I’m telling you why.
Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you’re sleeping, and knows when
you’re a fake. Your nose will shine when you really lie, so be good for
goodness sake.
Then
another vivid memory gave Rudy a momentary full body shudder.
Santa
had placed him on his Naughty List
Rudy
put the mirror down, and leapt out of bed.
“I
am so screwed!” he mumbled.
Purhcase Links
--B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/romancing-rudy-raindear-mary-leo/1107443276?ean=2940150531048
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Mary Leo
writes contemporary romance, paranormal romance, romantic suspense, and
mystery. She loves to travel for research while she’s writing a book,
or for that matter, even when she’s not writing a book . . . which
always leads to yet another book.
http://www.maryleo.com/
https://www.facebook.com/maryleoauthor
https://twitter.com/maryleoauthor
(INTL)
- Grand prize: $50.00 Amazon gift card
- Second prize: $25.00 gift card
- Third prize: Any two of Mary Leo's ebooks
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