Mission of Christmas

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Mission of Christmas Page 7

by Candice Gilmer


  Now Christy must use every skill at her command—just not her magic—to thwart Cupid’s meddling and get Roark and Stephanie together without changing their free will or ruining her perfect record. Or she’ll never get her own Happily Ever After.

  Warning: Magic, fairy godmothers, a rambunctious god, and two stubborn people who need a kick in the butt to see what’s obviously meant to be.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Under His Nose:

  “I have been doing this a long time. My husband is ready to retire,” Christy said, her wings flapping softly behind the chair. The little blue sparkles floated around the room toward the other two.

  “And?” Ava prompted.

  Christy smiled. “And I want one last challenge.”

  “Another case?” Lilly asked, her wings fluttering.

  “More than that.” Christy had been thinking about this for a while. “I want to truly push our talents. We all have strengths as Fairy Godmothers.”

  Ava leaned toward Lilly. “She’s got another trio to take.”

  Lilly nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, I have another trio.” Periodically, they would take on a trio of charges who were connected to one another. It made the ripples of happiness bigger when three found their HEA at once, instead of just a single person. And ripples always affected more.

  “And what makes this challenge special?” Lilly asked.

  “To see who can get the best Happily Ever After with the least amount of magic.” Christy leaned back and waited for the resistance to explode. Because it always did, at first.

  “No magic? How can we do anything without magic?” Ava asked, hands on her hips.

  “I can’t get a fairy to go out with me with magic,” Lilly said. “How can I get a mortal to her HEA without it?” Lilly’s wings were beginning to take on a fan-like quality.

  “Least amount of magic. Not none,” Christy said. “We can still use magic, just not as much.”

  “Why not?” Ava asked.

  “Because this trio is not the usual case.”

  Ava rubbed her head. “Oh goddess, are they Cupid Cases?”

  “No,” Christy replied. “Not exactly.” Cupid Cases were people who’d been hit by one of his horrible arrows and were trying to recover their life after the collapse of the disastrous relationship.

  There were a lot of Cupid Cases.

  Christy waved her wand and created a swirl of blue fog that slowly turned white before revealing a scene. Everyone clustered around the images spreading out before them.

  A dark, rustic sports bar, with men sitting around a table.

  “Well, the reason you’re still single, Roark my boy, is because you spend all day making perfumes.” William said, proudly displaying his white T-shirt, with Last Free Night on it. He sipped on his beer, grinning.

  Lucky bastard, Roark thought. He was getting married tomorrow. Roark had always looked forward to the institution of marriage—he came from parents who actually loved each other, and were still married after thirty-eight years. And they were as much in love now as they were then.

  Sadly, even Roark’s parents were starting to wonder which side he was playing for. Roark didn’t know why he just couldn’t get a date.

  William might be on to something…

  Bruce and Jason laughed at the barb. They had been friends as long as William—they all went to the same high school, wrestled on the same team, and had known each other for eternity.

  “Every girl you meet thinks you’re gay,” Jason added, grinning over his bourbon.

  Roark smirked. “But then they want to change me back.” He waggled his eyebrows. While it was true—he did have his sexuality questioned at least once a month—he didn’t let it bother him. Because he wasn’t lying. He had women come around who really did want to see if he’d “flip” sides.

  The guys had always made fun of his sensitive nose, but his acute sense made him a good deal of money. Figuring out what things worked with what—there was more science to it than they knew. And he put in a lot of hours making those smelly things.

  What else did he have to do? It was his family’s legacy. They’d been making perfumes for almost a century. And Roark was born with “the nose” for it.

  Bruce patted him on the shoulder. “If you start wearing an ascot and carrying a pipe, we will have an intervention.”

  Roark laughed and glanced at William, feeling—not for the first time since his friend announced his wedding—a pang of jealousy. “So how did you wind up with the last amazing woman in town?”

  “Got her on eBay,” William said with a grin. Roark and the others smirked. “Seriously, though, it was just luck.”

  “Annie is amazing,” Jason added. “She puts up with your crap.”

  “A good gal,” Bruce said. They all raised their beers—well, everyone who was drinking beer, anyway. Jason had a bourbon in his hand. They toasted.

  “To Annie.”

  “May she never know what an asshat you are,” Jason added.

  Everyone laughed and clattered their glasses together again. “Here here!”

  Roark sipped on his beer, watching William. The man had an air about him—and it wasn’t the new cologne he had on that Annie had bought from him, either. It was a…a swagger.

  “I want that,” Roark muttered.

  “What?” Bruce leaned closer, trying to see what Roark was seeing. “The bartender?”

  “No, asshole.” Roark hit Bruce and gestured to William. “That.”

  William raised his eyebrow. “You need to tell me something, Roark?”

  Roark rolled his eyes. “The happiness. The swagger. I want that.”

  “Don’t think he’s going to share Annie, douche,” Jason added.

  “Naw, man, the happy. I want that for myself,” Roark said.

  “Oh that,” Bruce said. “We all want that, right Jason?”

  “Yeah.” Jason sipped on his bourbon. “Yeah. We all do.”

  The hottest presents are stripped down under a palm tree.

  Caribbean Christmas

  © 2012 Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Under the Caribbean Sun, Book 1

  When Saskia snags a last-minute ticket to her home island of Anguilla, she intends to surprise her workaholic father with a chance to reconnect over Christmas. When she finds Dutch is away on business, there’s still plenty to fill her time while she waits. Sailing, snorkeling…and an unexpected, very adult attraction to her girlhood crush.

  In Joe Prinsen’s view, there’s only one reason Saskia would drop in after being away for eight years. Sure she’s following her mother’s example to come and ask for money, Joe feels it’s time she learns the truth about Dutch’s dire financial straits. And he intends to make sure she sticks around long enough to hear it. From Dutch himself.

  Except the impulsive Saskia takes all his noble intentions and unwraps them, one by one, until Joe finds himself in hot water. Saskia’s only home for Christmas. And once she finds out the secret he’s hiding, and why, she’ll probably leave the Caribbean for good.

  Warning: Sex on the beach can be a sandy pastime, one that could lead you, and your heart, in hot water.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Caribbean Christmas:

  She grinned. “This is where I learned to swim, because it is so shallow.” She made her way to him, her desire for his touch growing with each measured step.

  “What else did you learn on this island, Sass?”

  “The basics of a happy life. The older you get, the more complicated things become. Here things were simple. Do what makes you happy.”

  “If only we could stay kids, right?” His smile seemed a little sad, wistful even, as she stopped in front of him.

  “I’ve come back around to that same way of thinking. If something doesn’t make you happy, it’s not worth your time.”

  He scoffed. “That’s not very practical. People need jobs so they can support themselves. There are things that need to be done that no one enjoys
. It’s a good principle, but not realistic.”

  “Really, this from a self-professed beach bum? What have you done today that you didn’t want to do?” She stood before him, the water tickling between her thighs.

  “I’ve kept my hands off you, for one.” The moonlight set his strong features in shadow as he trailed his gaze from her face down her body, his nostrils flaring as he licked his lips. He raised one hand from the water and traced around her navel. She sucked in a breath as he toyed with her belly-button ring, sending ribbons of pleasure deep within her.

  “Were you waiting for permission? Is that your kink? You want to be told what to do?” She squeezed her inner muscles together as heat flushed there. She had a list of things he could do to her, and if he made her wait too long they’d turn into demands.

  “You are awfully interested in my kinks. Are you fishing for me to ask what yours are?”

  She felt the water move before his hands grasped her thighs. He looked up at her with an intensity that made her stomach flip and her womb clench. His wet palms slid up her body and he gripped her hips, his thumbs strumming the three ties of her thong. Each pass vibrated the crocheted flowers ever so slightly, turning her on even more.

  “Or are you trying to figure out just what to do to drive me wild?”

  “I’m encouraging you to do what makes you happy, whatever that might be.” She placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the rush of arousal making her want to fall into the water on top of him. But she wasn’t confident enough that he wasn’t teasing her. This intense connection they had made everything feel as if more was happening between them than physical attraction.

  He shook his head but didn’t release her. “Show me how to make you happy, schatje.”

  It would be her pleasure. On instinct, she scanned the deserted beach just in case. Finding no one, she decided to go for broke. Reaching her arms behind herself, she unhooked the bandeau. She held it up with one hand and watched his expression as his chest rose and fell on a ragged breath.

  And with that, she knew he wasn’t playing a game. He wanted her. The knowledge sent power coursing through her veins, heightening her arousal and boldness. Moving her arms slowly, she slid the top into her bikini ties so it wouldn’t float out to sea. Her fingers brushed against his as she secured it, but he didn’t release her.

  His grip tightened as she stood and pulled her shoulders back, letting the moonlight dance across her bare skin. She often wished she had more to fill out a top, but she had to admit that what she had going on looked damned good right now. He leaned closer, his hot breath teasing her like a caress. His hands, warm from the water, slipped up her torso to her rib cage. He ran his thumbs around her areolas until her nipples puckered into tight peaks.

  “I didn’t expect these.” He flicked her nipple rings with his thumbnails and a flash of sharp pleasure rushed through her body. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. “Do you have any more for me to find?”

  She shook her head, too afraid if she opened her mouth to speak she’d beg him to do something, anything to build this delicious sensation. He flicked the rings again and she dug her fingers into the hard muscles beneath his smooth skin. Maybe she would beg.

  “What do they feel like?” His words were a graveled whisper as he leaned closer, his mouth right there. “Do you only feel them here?”

  He lightly touched one ring with his thumb, lifting it up and down, up and down.

  “Or does everything lead back here?”

  He skimmed his other hand down her body and pressed his thumb directly on the juncture of her thighs, right over her clit. The pressure felt like both a relief and a build-up of more to come.

  She gasped as he stroked the petals of a crocheted flower. She yearned to know what to do next to have him put his mouth on her. She didn’t care where, so long as it was soon.

  “These are so small they barely even cover your slit. Did you think of me when you put them on?”

  “Yes.” No point in trying to hide now, not with one of his hands on her breast and the other managing to massage her clit even while it stayed hidden.

  “Because you wanted me to take them off you?” He started untying one side without waiting for her response.

  Though his hands moved quickly, it seemed like forever until he peeled one side from her body, leaving the side where she’d attached the bandeau connected as he pushed her suit under the water. She was completely bare, and her suit wouldn’t even float away. Perfect.

  “How long have you been thinking about being with me like this?” He toyed with her belly ring again and little sparks of pleasure arced through her body.

  “Since you walked into the shop without a shirt on. You looked like sex and I wanted you right then.” The admission seemed too honest, but before she could try and take it back, he took her ass in both hands and squeezed, hard.

  “I got hard following you up the hill in those damned too-short cutoffs. Your legs go on forever and this ass is…” He groaned, seeming unable to finish his thought, and his fingers kneaded her flesh.

  Desire swirled low in her belly. She’d never realized how sensitive her butt could be until she watched Joe enjoying touching it so much. She spread her legs wider, wishing with each pass of his fingers he’d slip between her cheeks and do something about the heat blooming between her legs.

  Mission of Christmas

  Candice Gilmer

  There’s more than one way to unwrap a gift.

  Erica Jones is a Scrooge, and she doesn’t care who knows it. She doesn’t “do” Christmas, never has, never will. For anyone who believes that everything is “merrier and brighter” during the season, she has a news flash—it’s not any better. Just colder.

  Andrew Hawkins has never had a bad Christmas, never understood his best friend’s aversion to it. After all, it’s all about family and togetherness and faith, right? Instead, the faintest twinkle of tinsel or the whiff of evergreen sends Erica into self-imposed exile to watch the latest action movie.

  Not this year. This year, Andrew is on a mission to find Erica’s Christmas spirit.

  With him.

  Even if he has to drag her, kicking and screaming.

  This book has been previously published.

  Warning: A woman who’s soured on seasonal fun, and the man who wants to break through her anti-holiday heart.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Mission of Christmas

  Copyright © 2013 by Candice Gilmer

  ISBN: 978-1-61921-825-3

  Edited by Holly Atkinson

  Cover by Lyn Taylor

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2013

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  Look for these titles by Candice Gi
lmer

  Also Available from Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  Copyright Page

 

 

 


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