Holidays Ever After: Contemporary Romance Holiday Boxed Set
Which holiday hottie will you unwrap first?
No matter the time of the year, it’s always the season for seduction!
From Spicy to Sweet and everything in between, this sizzling boxed set of TWENTY contemporary romances from today’s New York Times, USA Today, and International bestselling authors will give you tons of holiday hunks to fall in love with.
Inside these pages, you’ll find everything from sexy strangers and brooding billionaires to marines, firefighters, and the guy next door.
Whether you’re in the mood for a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, or a New Year’s celebration, this limited edition Holiday Ever After anthology is packed with exclusive, full-length titles to lift your spirits. From Halloween to Kwanzaa, Valentines Day, Norooz, and the Fourth of July, these stories will give your holiday season extra spark and will be the best romantic holiday bundle to hit your ereader this year!
Get ready to heat up your holidays when you treat yourself to Holidays Ever After!
Including stories from…
Amy L. Gale
Rebekah R. Ganiere
By: Teresa Roman
“What can I do?”
I lifted my head, looked into his troubled eyes and then, without thinking, said,” Kiss me.”
For a moment I wasn’t sure he would. Not after our stupid fight and my bullheaded refusal to pick up the phone and apologize. Only moments ago, he’d referred to himself as a friend. Maybe that’s all he wanted us to be. But then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. One hand came around the back of my head, the other pulled me closer to him. My heart raced as his lips pressed harder against mine. His tongue slid into my mouth and I reached up to circle my arms around his shoulders.
The heat from his kiss and the way his body pressed against mine chased away the cold that had felt like it settled inside my bones, but it was still raining, and though the heat in my car had helped to dry my scrubs a little, they were soaked again from standing out in the rain talking to Jude.
I pulled away from him and reached into my purse searching for my keys. “Let’s go inside.”
Jude followed me without saying a word. After I closed the door behind him and flicked the light switch on, I turned around and kissed him again. He ran his hands through my dripping wet hair moaning gently as he pressed me against the door, pinning me between it and his body.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Dawn.”
He lowered his lips, kissing the sensitive skin on my neck. My breathing quickened. “I missed you, too. Badly. I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”
Jude pressed his finger over my lips. “Shhh, let’s not talk about that right now.”
He was right. Talking could come later, right at that moment the only thing I wanted was him. I needed this connection. And not just because it had one of the most heartbreaking days I’d had in a while, but because not seeing him or talking to him for all those days made me realize that I did have feelings for him, feelings that were stronger than I’d cared to admit. Feelings I desperately wanted to show him because I sucked at finding the right words.
Violet’s Bucket List
By: Tuesday Embers
I slid into my sleeping bag on my belly, my fists stacked atop my mother’s memorial plaque, and my chin resting on my hands. The air was cold in the graveyard that night, but I was too fixated on my mother’s name to shiver. I stared down at the scripted font, recalling how many years we’d camped out in this very graveyard. I never guessed I’d be sleeping here without her – or with her in the ground like this.
My mother’s relatives were all in Mexico, so we’d scoured the graveyard for another Rodriquez we could pretend we were related to. Ana Concepcion Rodriquez didn’t have anyone else with the same last name around her, so we adopted her into our little circle, making her our own. We pretended she’d been stolen away from her wealthy parents at a young age, grew in poverty with nothing but gruel sandwiches, her morals and can-do attitude. Then when Ana was a teenager, she went in search of her family.
It was a tearful reunion when fake Ana was welcomed into the family she’d always known was out there. They showered her with love, kisses, presents, and an elephant because, well, Caty had a healthy imagination. Love, kisses and presents hadn’t seemed like enough to her.
In our rendition of Ana’s life, she’d died peacefully in her sleep as an old woman, surrounded by her family, and the gardener. Julio had admired her from afar as he’d pruned the roses at her family’s estate, but
only ever got up the courage to kiss the back of her hand. We always brought flowers for Ana’s grave from fake Julio, swooning at the romance of their unrequited love.
We’d slept on Ana’s grave every year. Now that I had my mother in the ground, I knew where I would be spending every November 1st for the rest of my life.
Brady and Caty came back forty-five minutes later, their eyes wide as they rejoined me. “What’s up with you two? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” I let out a perfunctory laugh and clapped my hands at my terrible joke. The spirits of the dead were supposed to walk around on the Dia de Los Muertos, searching for treats and their loved ones. They were granted one night a year to rise from their graves and go bonkers, reuniting with family and friends who camped out on their graves to greet them.
“Nothing happened!” they both exclaimed, looking guilty. Then Caty folded herself into the sleeping bag and set a few pieces of my mom’s least favorite candy on her plaque, next to our row of sugar skulls. “How’s Mama?”
“I think she’d be glad her traditions didn’t die with her. I’m glad you guys came tonight. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Thanks for pushing me to get out of bed. I needed this.”
“Anytime,” Caty smiled, situating the lantern next to the gravestone, so we could see each other a little better.
I smoothed away a leaf that had fallen onto my mother’s no-frills plaque, studying her name and timeline as Brady tucked in between us. It was such a simple thing, the dash between her birth year and her death. “That’s all we get,” I mused in my shifting melancholy, tracing the line that summed up her entire life. “Just a dash to the end.”
Brady’s features grew tense, his eyebrows pulling together, and his mouth in a tight line. “We need to make our dashes count, then. Vi, you’ve only got four things on the bucket list. It’s time we started crossing them off.”
“Hello, we can’t afford France yet.”
Brady shook his head. “We can’t afford not to go. We can’t afford cancer. We can’t afford getting older. Now’s the time, Vi. We’re putting something on the calendar. By this time next year, I want France crossed off Violet’s bucket list.”
I shot him an appreciative smile. “But that list belongs to all of us.”
Brady smirked at me. “Then I guess we’ll all have to go.”
Brady’s finger traced the small engraved line with mine, and then Caty added her finger to the mix. We scooted closer to each other, knowing that we might not know what our respective dashes would hold, but certain we would go through it all together.
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