The Trouble With Christmas by Debbie Mason
Resort developer Madison Lane is about to lose the one thing she loves most in the world – her job. Dubbed “The Grinch Who Killed Christmas,” Madison spoiled a deal that would turn quaint Christmas, Colorado, into a tourist’s winter wonderland. Now the citizens want her fired but the company gives her one last chance, sending Madison to the small town to restore the holiday cheer.
For Sheriff Gage McBride, no hotshot executive from New York City is going to destroy the dreams of the people he loves. But one look at this beautiful woman and it’s his heart that may be broken. In just a few days, Madison causes more trouble than he’s had to deal with all year. He can’t decide if she’s naughty or nice, but one thing is for certain- Christmas will never be the same again…
Praised as a “writer to watch” by RT Book Reviews, Debbie Mason also writes Scottish-set historical paranormals as Debbie Mazzuca. Her MacLeod series debuted in April 2010 and is said to “combine the passion of Hannah Howell’s Highand romances with the seductive fantasy of Karen Marie Moning’s bestsellers.”
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Madison gritted her teeth as the midmorning sun glared off the snow-covered mountains and the GPS cheerfully informed her she was going in the wrong direction. She wasn’t. The problem was the town of Christmas was off the grid. She’d been lucky to find a map that showed it actually existed. And Harrison had the nerve to insinuate her visitor projections were too low? Like hell they were; no one would be able to find the place.
As the number of protesters grew yesterday, she’d practically had to tackle Joe to stop him from picking up the phone and reopening negotiations. He’d only relented once Madison had offered, as a last-ditch resort, to go to Christmas and turn the public relations nightmare around. She hadn’t figured out exactly how to do that, but she would. Hartwell Enterprises’ survival depended on her.
Harrison had pulled out all the stops in his campaign to be sent in her place. He’d gone from charming to butt-kissing to whining in a New York minute. But three hours later, Joe had conceded that Madison was the best one to convey her findings to the people of Christmas. Of course, she was to do so in such a way that they would understand the decision was in everyone’s best interest.
Which meant she was supposed to charm and cajole the citizens of Christmas and kiss a baby or two—so not her strong suit. But she’d suck it up and get the job done. Otherwise, she might not have one.
She’d flown out on the red-eye, arriving early this morning at the Denver airport, wasting an hour trying to locate the car and driver Harrison offered to arrange for her. Only to find out it had never been ordered. She should’ve known better. Harrison was probably sitting in her office dreaming of her demise, which was highly likely given her limited driving experience and the hairpin curve she’d just rounded in the rented SUV.
The man in the car behind her blasted his horn as he sped by. If she wasn’t terrified of letting go of the wheel, she would’ve flipped him the bird. She needed something to calm her nerves. She slowed down to turn up the radio when “Independent Women” by Destiny’s Child came on.
Madison loved to sing, even though her friends encouraged her not to. No matter what they said, she didn’t believe she sounded that bad. Her confidence returned as she belted out the empowering lyrics. The town of Christmas wouldn’t know what hit them. She’d have them eating out of her hand in no time once she expounded on the evils of bringing corporate America to their sleepy little town.
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She’d been on the road for over three hours. According to the map, she should be approaching the turnoff to Christmas right about now. Perfect. There it was. If the meeting went as planned, she’d be back on the road by 2:00, which meant the most hair-raising part of her drive would still be in daylight.
Her breath caught as she made the turn. The town, nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains, looked like it belonged in a snow globe. Sunlight sparkled on snow-laden evergreens and danced off the pastel-painted wooden buildings in the distance. It was postcard perfect and exactly the ammunition Madison needed to convince the town that Hartwell Enterprises had done them a favor by backing out of the deal.
She’d focus on the town’s positive attributes and not the negatives that had made the case against them. Like this road, she thought, her good mood evaporating as her tires spun out beneath her. She slowed to a crawl, a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. Three-quarters of the way down the treacherous hill, as she was about to release the breath she’d been holding, a movement to her right caught her attention. A deer leaped from the woods, darting in front of her. She braked hard, the car fishtailing as she slid along the road. From behind a cluster of evergreens at the side of the road, a twelve-foot Santa holding a “Welcome to Christmas” sign seemingly sprang out in front of her like a giant jack-in-the-box.
Madison screamed. Her foot mistakenly jumped to the gas instead of the brake. She watched in slow-motion horror as the car kept moving and crashed into the sign. Santa loomed, teetered, then fell on the hood, his maniacal, smiling face leering at her through the cracked windshield.
Her last thought before the airbag slammed into her face was that she’d finally succeeded in killing Santa.
Twas the Night Before Mischief by Nina Rowan
When Penelope Darlington is persuaded to elope with a most unsuitable suitor, she wastes no time. With visions of passion and adventure dancing in her head, she steals away in the middle of the night, just before her father’s Christmas feast.
Fearing for his daughter’s reputation, Henry Darlington begs Darius Hall, the Earl of Rushton’s daring yet discreet son, to bring Penelope home. When Darius finally catches up to Penelope he is shocked. She’s not the silly little girl he expected, but a beautiful woman with a sharp mind and an allure that cannot be ignored.
Now forced to kidnap Penelope in order to bring her home, Darius and his new charge spend the next several days-and nights-in very close quarters. Penelope wanted passion and adventure, but she never could have imagined the pleasures Darius can provide . . .
Originally from California, Nina Rowan holds a PhD in Art History from McGill University, Montreal, with a specialization in 19th century French and Russian art. A librarian-at-heart, she also has an MA in Library and Information Sciences. Nina lives in Wisconsin with her atmospheric scientist husband and two children.
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“You’re standing beneath the mistletoe,” he said. Again, the remark simply emerged without prior formation. He was beginning to feel unbalanced by the strange effect this woman had on him.
“I beg your pardon?”
Darius pointed upward to where a sprig of ribbon-wrapped mistletoe dangled from the doorway just above Penelope’s head. She followed his line of sight, two spots of color appearing on her cheeks as her lips parted. He half expected her to step away from him, but instead—unless he was imagining it—she seemed to shift an infinitesimal degree closer. Warmth unfurled in his blood.
“One who stands beneath the mistletoe requires a kiss,” he continued, unable to follow the direction of his thoughts, which no longer seemed to be his own.
Neither did his body, which had surrendered to the wild beating of his heart and an odd shortness of breath. He wanted to unfasten his cravat and feel cool air against his skin because this proximity to Penelope was making him hot from the inside out, and nothing he told himself would quell the sensation.
He could not stop staring at her lips. They were pink and plump, with an indentation in the top lip. If he were to place his finger there, it would fit perfectly within that little notch. So too would the tip of his tongue.
Columna. Colures. Comata.
Combustion.
An inflammation of light and heat. He felt the explosion in his chest at the thought of settling his mouth against Penelope Darlington’s perfect lips, feeling her body pressed to his, sliding one hand to the back of her neck so he could angle her head and deepen the intensity of the kiss…
“I don’t believe in such fables, Mr. Hall.” Her clear voice sliced through his imaginings.
Darius didn’t have imaginings. At least, he hadn’t before now. Certainly not ones about kissing Penelope Darlington, her hands clutching his shoulders and her hips arching into his…
Darius drew in a hard breath and attempted to regain control of his unruly thoughts and even more uncontrollable body.
“You’d take the chance, then?” he asked.
“What chance?” she asked, resting one slender hand against the doorjamb as if for support. She still hadn’t moved away from him. Her cheeks were still flushed pink, and her scent filled his head.
“If a woman is denied a kiss while standing beneath the mistletoe, it is foretold that she will not marry the following year,” Darius said.
“Is that so?”
“Indeed.”
Penelope laughed that bell-laugh again, and for an instant Darius thought she had read his desires.
“Oh, Mr. Hall, I assure you,” she said, and then she took a step away from him. A cool breeze swept into the empty space where she had just been standing.
“I shall marry,” Penelope said. “Most certainly, I shall. And I need not even wait until next year.”
Darius frowned. His analytical brain fit the pieces of that puzzle together with ease. And he did not like the result one bit.
“I didn’t know you were planning a wedding, Miss Darlington.”
“You don’t know much about me at all, Mr. Hall.”
“I know you’ll not find any exhilaration with Simon Wilkie.”
Her eyes widened, and she took a startled step back. “W-what?”
“If that is what you still seek, he is not the one who will provide it.”
“What do you know of such things?” Penelope asked, her voice tightening. “In all those years you visited my father’s shop, I’d never known a more serious, practical person. Far more interested in gears, levers, and the workings of machines rather than…than…”
“Exhilaration?” Darius supplied.
The color darkened on her cheeks. “Rather than life, Mr. Hall.”
He stared at her. The obedient, dutiful Penelope Darlington was telling him he didn’t know how to properly live?
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Of course you don’t because you’ve never felt it.” She extended a forefinger and poked him in the chest. “When I tried to explain it to you, you looked at me as if I’d gone mad. People like you know nothing about intangibles, all those things someone can feel inside and not have any idea what to do with. Things that have nothing to do with duty and practicality and everything to do with wanting to feel.”
“I know how to feel, Miss Darlington.” He moved closer to her, lowering his voice a notch. “I assure you.”
“You do not.” She lifted her chin, though a visible tremor went through her. “That day when I tried to tell you about being daring and bold, feeling joy and, yes, exhilaration, you started talking about the components of the atmosphere. I mean, really, of all the ridiculous things one could say to a girl who simply wanted a—”
All thought fled from Darius’s brain. He grasped the back of Penelope’s neck and lowered his head. Combustion.
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New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.
New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.
Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana, and has lived in Denver, Colorado, and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Hope Ramsay grew up on the North Shore of Long Island, but every summer Momma would pack her off under the care of Aunt Annie to go visiting with relatives in the midlands of South Carolina. Her extended family includes its share of colorful aunts and uncles, as well as cousins by the dozens, who provide the fodder for the characters you’ll find in Last Chance, South Carolina. She’s a two-time finalist in the Golden Heart and is married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her heroes. She lives in Fairfax, Virginia, where you can often find her on the back deck, picking on her thirty-five-year-old Martin guitar.
Molly Cannon lives a charmed life in Texas with her nearly perfect husband and extremely large cat Nelson. When she’s not writing, she spends her days reading, taking dance classes with the hubby and watching all kinds of sports. Molly has three children, all married to terrific people and two wonderful grandchildren. Life is good!
Known for her intensely emotional stories, Marilyn Pappano is the USA Today bestselling author of nearly eighty books. She has made regular appearances on bestseller lists and has received recognition for her work in the form of numerous awards. Though her husband’s Navy career took them across the United States, he and Ms. Pappano now live in Oklahoma high on a hill that overlooks her hometown. They have one son and daughter-in-law, an adorable grandson, and a pack of mischievous dogs.
When Tsara Adelman leaves her husband and two young children for a weekend to visit her estranged uncle, she little dreams he is holding several local children captive on his
Nadal watches for weeks before he first approaches the boy. No matter what Maggie Brown says, he’s sure Matt is his son, and a boy should know his father. After their first confrontation, Maggie should have run. She should have hidden her child. But she underestimated the man who was once her lover. With self-righteous determination, Nadal goes to her house. He demands to spend time with the boy. When she refuses, he reaches for a knife.
It’s 1980-something and all nine-year-old Jake Doyle wants for Christmas is a Nintendo Entertainment System. No Jose Canseco rookie card, no GI Joe hovercraft, no Teddy friggin’ Ruxpin—just Nintendo. But when a hyperactive Shih Tzu is accidentally crushed to death by a forty-two- inch television set and every parent in town blames Nintendo, it’s up to Jake to take matters into his own hands. The result is a Christmas quest of Super Mario Bros. proportions, filled with flaming wreaths, speeding minivans, lost retainers, fake Santas, hot teachers, snotty sisters, “Super Bowl Shuffles” and one very naked Cabbage Patch Kid. Told from a nostalgic adult perspective, 8-Bit Christmas is a hilarious and heartfelt look back at the kid pop culture of the 1980s.
Anybody who is familiar with the Civil Rights movement knows that 1964 was a pivotal year. And in Birmingham, Alabama – perhaps the epicenter of racial conflict – the Barons amazingly started their season with an integrated team.
Captain Magigate, a legendary inventor and recluse who is equal parts Albert Einstein
With North Korea rattling its saber again, Letters to Ann takes the reader back to the early years of the Korean War. Even in some of its darkest moments, Captain John Hughes finds and shares bits of humor about his daily military existence with his then four year-old daughter. It is a unique perspective of what so often is called “The Forgotten War.”
These novels are double romances: one love story is in historical time and produces long-term consequences; the other love story is in the present and is thoroughly enmeshed in those consequences.
Evolutionary linguistics – an approach to language study that takes into account our origins and development as a species – has rapidly developed in recent years. Informed by the latest findings in evolutionary theory, this book sets language within the context of human biology and development, taking ideas from fields such as psychology, neurology, biology, anthropology, genetics and cognitive science. By factoring an evolutionary and developmental perspective into the theoretical framework, the author replaces old questions – such as ‘what is language?’ – with new questions, such as ‘how do living beings become ‘languaging’ living beings?’ Linguistics and Evolution offers readers the first rethinking of an introductory approach to linguistics since Leonard Bloomfield’s 1933 Language. It will be of significant interest to advanced students and researchers in all subfields of linguistics, and the related fields of biology, anthropology, cognitive science and psychology.
