by Linda West
Copyright January 2, 2016
Holiday Kisses and Valentine Wishes
By Linda West
Morningmayan.com Publishing
All rights reserved
Holiday Kisses
and
Valentine Wishes
A fabulously feel good holiday romance
by
Linda West
If you haven’t read the first two best-selling
holiday books in the
“Love on Kissing Bridge Mountain Series”
please check them out!
Dedicated to,
My darling son Sebastian
What happy readers are saying about
Chocolate Kisses and Love Filled Wishes…
“A heartwarming and delightful read! The inhabitants of Kissing Bridge were adorable. If you want some perfect feel good uplifting holiday fun, this is the go-to book. I wish I could give it 10 stars!”
S. Stevens, Kindle Good Reads
“Within a matter of pages, I was laughing my socks off and immediately fell in love with the slightly crazy Summer … Linda West has such a knack for the humorous side of characters … Her writing style is so upbeat and unique. I hope to see more of these characters I’ve come to love - can’t wait to see what happens next in the cute town of Kissing Bridge!”
M. Sinclair
“This is exactly the feel-good holiday romance book I was looking for! From the start I was absorbed in the magic of the season and had a smile on my face. I laughed from the fist page and finished it in one sitting! I’d love to see a movie made out of this.”
D. Dragna
*********
Make sure you turn to the last page where we have a free gift waiting for you!!
*******
Thank you for reading my new book! This is the follow up book to my best selling romance “Christmas Kisses and Cookies.” So many of you wonderful people wrote me and asked me to continue the story of the holiday crazy town of Kissing Bridge Mountain with all it’s adorable and enchanting inhabitants, so I did! I had fun spending time with them all again as they wove in and out of this new story. I hope you enjoy it and happy holidays to you and all you love!
Truly,
Linda West
P.s. I just finished the third in the series!
Thank you so much for all the lovely support and encouragement to continue this series. I hope you love the third one based around Easter –
Chocolate Kisses and Love Filled Wishes
Prelude:
After a long day it’s nice to relax and unwind. So take a moment to get a cup of tea and nice sweet bread and sink into your comfy chair with a warm blanket. You are about to go on a lovely ride through the enchanting town of Kissing Bridge Mountain. Wonderful things happen here in Kissing Bridge and miracles have a way of coming true…
Chocolate Kisses and Love Filled Wishes is the third book in the “Love on Kissing Bridge Mountain Holiday Series.”
I was inspired to write the first book, Christmas Kisses and Cookies, because I was unable to find the warm, feel-good holiday book I wanted to read. So I wrote one myself! I laughed the whole way through. After becoming a number one best-selling book and receiving hundreds of letters from fans asking for the series to be continued, I wrote the next two books in the series. This is the third book. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Wishing you a love-filled Easter and holiday season.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Final thoughts…~
Chapter 1
Christmas Eve
Summer Landers smiled as she looked up at Brad Anderson. Who would have ever thought that this Christmas would find her engaged to the man she had always loved? After being separated by a sad, eavesdropping mishap, the soulmates had found their way back together against all odds.
The full moon shone down upon the snowbanks. Christmas lights twinkled from the homes that dotted the streets of Kissing Bridge Mountain. The entire town had turned out for Christmas Eve Mass.
The old stone church was crammed full of adults and excited children in their best holiday clothes, full of anticipation for Santa’s arrival the next day. The vaulted roof swelled with the comforting notes of Christmas carols, while intricate layers of harmonies floated through the air.
Summer winked at her Aunt Carol, who stood squarely at the front of the choir, singing her heart out. Aunt Carol’s signature red beehive was so large that it blocked out the ladies behind her. They had to keep popping their heads around its massive bundle, trying to smile at their loved ones in the pews.
A light snow had begun to fall outside, whispering on the stained windows bearing pictures of Mary and the Disciples and Apostles, and the warm, golden light of candles permeated the church. Their flames flickered with the music as if they were dancing. Summer thought to herself that life had never seemed so perfect.
What a difference a week could make.
The week previous she’d been sweating in the heat of Los Angeles, pining for a white Christmas, and trying to figure out how she’d managed to get engaged to a movie star she wasn’t even in love with. Drake Mason, the whole world swooned. She didn’t get the attraction anymore.
Now… well… she turned to look up again at Brad Anderson. His gray eyes shined in the candlelight as he smiled down at her in return. He hugged her close to him and she snuggled into his broad shoulder. Who ever would have thought that after breaking up ten years ago it would be Brad that she chose to spend her life with?
Summer was usually cautious about doing things too fast, but everything felt just right. Since coming back to Kissing Bridge she had been swept up in a whirlwind of activity. Against all odds and an evil Martha Stewart trained rival, the Landers ladies had reclaimed their cookie throne as the blue ribbon winners of the Silver Bells Fair.
Summer reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand. They shared a warm smile. It was almost too good to be true.
Mother – Ethel Landers – stood with all the dignity and poise of royalty. Again crowned the cookie queen, she had steadfastly refused to remove her Blue Ribbon which was now pinned to the front of her dress for all to see.
Summer couldn’t blame her.
It had been the toughest cookie competition in decades.
Churchgoers still streamed in, each face familiar. Every face that wasn’t easily recognizable could be explained away with deduction. A young woman who walked in with Danae Truman – probably her cousin. A middle-aged man who accompanied old Mrs. Samworth – must be her son-in-law.
Summer spotted Earl, the lodgekeeper, as he made his way down the aisle. He was a seventy-something gent with an easy laugh and mischievous twinkling brown eyes. His eyes widened as he spotted Summer’s mother.
He nodded at Summer and Brad, then leaned into Ethel. “That blue is a lovely color on you, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Summer watched as he
r mom blushed. “Thank you, Earl,” Ethel replied.
He winked and walked ahead to take a seat a few pews ahead of them. His best buddy, Old Mr. Jennings, tottered along after him. Old Mr. Jennings finally fit his name, Summer thought. He’d been called old since his hair had turned snowy white almost overnight in his mid thirties.
Earl tossed a cheeky glance back as he took his seat. Summer’s heart sparkled as she watched her mom’s cheeks blush a rosy shade of pink.
*****
Dodie Randall dried the tears from her eyes and prepared to open the door to the church. It had been so long since she had ventured inside hallowed ground she wondered if they would reject her, or if God’s thunderbolt would shoot down to put her out of her misery.
She had said, “I’m fine, just fine,” to her uncle Earl as he held the door open for her. “I just want a moment more of fresh air, a moment to get my head together.”
But there would never be enough fresh air for her to get her head around what had happened.
As she watched the gentle snowdrift, she wondered what the heck was wrong with her. Whenever life seemed to be going well, some evil, shadowy hand stuck into her life and rearranged everything into chaos. Her first marriage to a successful musician had ended suddenly when he died of an overdose, leaving her a young widow.
It had taken her a long time to open her heart again, but Peter had come along and changed that. He kept trying to win her heart and trust and love and he finally had succeeded in prying open the dusty doors of her feelings.
Peter had been perfect.
Life had been perfect.
Or at least she had thought so. He had two sweet grown sons that loved her. A big house in Chicago she’d spent years perfecting with just the right throw cushions, shades of paint and organizational systems for the laundry room. An engagement ring on the way.
As she’d gazed into Peter’s green-flecked hazel eyes, she really believed she’d found her last resting place. It was simple, really, she’d started to think. Just love one another and be together, that was all. Their love was true and together they would grow more and more in love over the years. They’d be there for each other; sick, poor, whatever to the end. Nothing could break their rock-solid love.
Or so she thought.
When Peter had been so overjoyed at getting the tickets to Lord of the Dance that he’d jumped around the living room squealing, she had assumed he just enjoyed theatrical productions, perhaps to a fault, but she was prepared to let that slide. She didn’t figure he was gay, but that little fact had been revealed a few weeks later in their own theatrical production that had started with a chat about their families and ended with a screaming match, insults, and hairbrushes flying across the room.
Dodie didn’t have anything against gay men. She had just hoped her fiancé wasn’t one of them.
She sighed deeply and then breathed in again, trying to draw some strength from inside herself.
The pine trees made her feel strong, the way they stood tall and steadfastly refused to let the wind sweep all their spikes away. You didn’t get this kind of energy from the skyscrapers in Chicago.
Maybe that was one of the reasons that since moving to Kissing Bridge Mountain she had found a kind of solace. The air was so clean it felt like a totally different kind of breathing, too. The place felt safe, if that was even a possibility anymore. The townspeople had been more than welcoming to the strange outcast with the solemn eyes and the past she’d rather not talk about.
She had arrived a couple months before Christmas.
Unable to feel, let alone rejoice, Dodie had taken to helping at the local soup kitchen and assisting the older ladies write letters to the boys over in the war. Somehow sending good wishes and happy holidays to the soldiers made her feel better. They, like her, were alone, afraid, and had no idea what the future held.
Chapter 2
Finally mustering enough strength, Dodie pushed the church’s heavy door open. The first thing that caught her eye was the nativity scene arranged in the front, which was comforting in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She lingered at the back for a moment, watching the smiling choir weave their melodies and fill the church with their warmth. Ms. Carol Landers stood out with her bright red hair and larger-than-life persona, and the eye was immediately drawn to her, even from way in the back. Dodie smiled. She had one friend. Carol was a fellow card-writer for the soldiers.
As she cast her eyes over the congregation, Dodie caught sight of Summer Landers – supermodel come home. She’d seen her pictures plastered across magazines and billboards, so it was jarring to see her up close and personal.
Summer was standing next to a handsome man with dark hair and they looked very much in love. Dodie slipped into the pew behind them, her chest aching just a little. Maybe their love and happiness would rub off on her if she just managed to get close enough.
Dodie closed her eyes. Please God, please make it all make sense. Why had she wasted so many years pouring her heart out, all her love, for a man that could feel nothing for her? He’d broken up with her so matter-of-factly. Like he felt nothing. It was an eerie hole where once a dream had lived. One moment she was awaiting a proposal, the next he was gleefully helping her pack up everything she owned while saying, “This is such a relief, this is such a relief, Dodie, I can’t tell you.”
Four bags.
That’s all her life amounted to.
She’d sold her house in Atlanta to build the one in Chicago with him. He’d offered her a ticket home but that was a cruel joke. She had no home now.
No one.
No heart, it felt like.
Her mom’s only brother, Earl, ran the lodge up at Eagle’s Peak ski resort and he had offered to let her stay at the lodge while she readjusted to single life. She’d headed to Kissing Bridge Mountain because it was as good as anywhere. A good place to start over again.
The choir began a rendition of Glory that made goose pimples rise and ripple along Dodie’s arms. Ms. Carol caught sight of Dodie in the pew. She smiled her big smile and Dodie felt at least like she had a friend.
She just didn’t relate to the younger people. They all wanted to get married, have kids, and at thirty-seven she was just hoping she didn’t die alone.
Caught up in the music, she began to sing. She’d always had a lovely voice.
“Glory to God, glory to God, glory to God forever.”
Summer turned around in front of her and gave her a mega-watt smile. Dodie managed a hint of a smile in return.
Maybe after Christmas things would be better.
Maybe her heart would mend.
Maybe she wouldn’t feel like fading away as time went on.
Chapter 3
Christmas Day
Summer curled up in the window seat and watched the snowfall. It had gotten heavier overnight and now Kissing Bridge was buried under a thick, white blanket.
She breathed a sigh of perfect contentment and the pane misted up in a little circle. She was even glad of that – that would have never happened in LA.
She drew a heart in the condensation, marking it S on one side and B on the other. It was kind of childish, but she didn’t care.
She was home.
She felt like a kid again, like the world was really full of possibilities. The beat-down, cynical feeling that had gripped her in LA had been left there. She’d even laid out an empty stocking for Santa to fill the night before, complete with cookies (the winning Tiffany-blue specimens, of course) and milk, and even carrots for his reindeer. The stocking was full on the mantelpiece and her heart was warm that her mother would humor her that way.
“Look, Santa’s left you a cookie,” Brad laughed as Aunt Carol let him in through the front door with a cold winter breeze.
Summer laughed and ran to him, desperate to feel the comfort of his arms once again. She couldn’t get enough of it. “Merry Christmas, baby!”
He folded her in a tight embrace and
kissed her on each cheek, then on her forehead, then on her lips, long and lingering. “Merry Christmas.”
“My eyes, my eyes!” Aunt Carol pretended to scream as she headed back to the kitchen. “You’d better be careful, young lady, ’else Santa’ll be bringing you a lump of coal next year.”
Summer flapped at her and led Brad by the hand back to the window seat. She curled her feet under her and snuggled into his shoulder. “This is the best Christmas ever.”
“I’ll say,” Brad replied. “It was like a Christmas card on the way over here. We must take a walk.”
“I’d love that,” she said.
There was nothing like bundling up and feeling the icy wind bite your face when you knew you were coming home to a roaring fire, gifts, the tree, and hot cocoa. “Why don’t we go right away?”
“Well, okay,” he said.
She jumped up from the window seat, taking off her robe, and piled on jumpers and fleeces and rainproof macs over her pajamas.
“We’re going out, Mom,” she said as she slipped her double-socked feet into knee-high boots. “See you in a while.”
“Okay, don’t be too long,” her mom called out from the kitchen.
Delicious smells of warm apple-cinnamon punch, gingerbread, and apple pie wafted through into the living room, making Summer’s mouth water. She grabbed the cookie Santa had left behind and broke off a piece.
“Open your mouth,” she said to Brad, and she placed a piece on his tongue before feeding herself. “Let’s go.”
Brad was right.
It was just like a Christmas card. The whole of Kissing Bridge was covered in white, illuminated by the soft light of the morning. The sun had not yet fully risen, the sky still a shade that lingered between dusky rose and powder blue. Christmas lights twinkled, some from underneath thin snow drifts. No one else was out. They walked through the deserted streets, gloved hand in gloved hand.
