Can I be honest...I don't find Christmas to be a very romantic holiday. Barring the obvious religious implications, to me, it's all about the kids. It's attempting to get them not to cry for a picture with Santa. It's staying up until midnight or after putting that doll house together using instructions written in Japanese. It's about Chex Mix and decorating cookies and putting handmade ornaments on the tree. And, if it's not centered around your kids, then it's your nieces, nephews, or pretty much any other random kid. The only "romantic" symbol I can think of is mistletoe. So romance writers have that going for us, I guess. Lol.
I also really wanted to call this book something different...CHRISTMAS IN THE COP CAR. Doesn't that sound intriguing? Do I sound like the Grinch? I actually loved writing this novella, mainly because I wanted to give it a little bit of a spin...hence the cop car. But you'll just have to read it to find out what happens:)
In the mean time, let me add to the over-saturating Christmas problem by sharing a snippet, although it has nothing to do with Christmas...Also, if the hero sound vaguely familiar, Jeremy Whitehurst (aka Whitey) was a secondary character in all three of my Falcon Football books and all three Cottonbloom books. (More info here) So maybe it's fitting that he only gets an HEA through a Christmas miracle...
Kayla's gaze trailed down his body, then went to the sky. “Looks like the storm has settled in for the duration. How about I give you a lift home? And maybe buy you a late lunch for your help?”
Jeremy had spent his formative years reeling from one crisis to the next, his bad decisions piling up like animal bones. He didn’t know if she qualified as a bad decision or a crisis, but being around her made his footing feel suddenly precarious as if he were one step from quicksand. He should say no. He would say no.
Yet confronted with her half-smile and hopeful eyes, he said, “Sure. That’d be great.”
“Let’s make a run for it.” She grabbed his hand on her way by him, laughing like mad. They loaded into the car, and still giggling, she turned to him. Her smile was sweet and uncomplicated and turned her from pretty to something magical. If he believed in such things. Which he didn’t.
Except, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The rain muffled the outside world, turned off the voices sounding alarms in his mind. Without thinking about tomorrow or even the next minute, he leaned in and kissed her.
Her quick intake of breath stole his. Thunder clapped. Her upper body tipped toward him, and she wrapped one hand around his nape, the other delving into his damp hair.
Her surrender was the signal his body was waiting for, and he deepened the kiss, pulling her lower lip in his mouth and running his tongue along the soft flesh. Her gasping moan was loud in his ear and gasoline to the ember of desire he’d been desperately trying to stamp out.
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