AUDIOBOOK SPOTLIGHT - HOLIDAY ROMANCE by Sonja Gunter

Curl up with the best of both worlds: modern-day romantic twists on your favorite holiday classics, now available in cozy audiobooks!

Avoiding My Merry Birthday
by Sonja Gunter
Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance, Magical Realism

What would life be like to share your birthday with millions of people?

Gloria White was born on December 24th—Christmas Eve—and is celebrating her 35th birthday when things go terribly wrong. Single and with no love interest in sight, she leaves work only to find her car won’t start. The arrival of the tow truck brings Nick Klaaws, who she has known since grade school, as the driver.

Shocked at seeing him, she loses her balance, falls and hits her head. This brings on a visit from a ghost resembling her boss, Mr. SC Rouge. They travel back in time, where he shows her that her soulmate has been in front of her the whole time and takes her to two possible futures.

Once back in real time, will fate allow Gloria to make the right choices for love?

**Now available as an audiobook!**

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Ending the call, she manually unlocked the car door and got into the driver’s seat. She tried the ignition, just for the heck of it, but the engine did not even make a grinding noise. She hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, and cried out, “Ouch.”

It hadn’t been worth the effort. She massaged her hand. Deciding to make the most of her time, she checked Facebook to see if anyone had left her a birthday message there. When none came up, she clicked her off her phone and sat in a lonely silence.

An unusual bright light reflected in her rear-view mirror. Squinting, she tried to make out who had joined in the parking lot. Was that the tow truck? How could help have arrived so soon? A low hum of music seeped through the air. Frowning, she tilted her head for a better angle to hear where it was coming from. 

“Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh...” 

Grimacing at the driver’s choice of songs, Gloria slid out of the driver’s seat to watch a red tow-truck with a wreath on the grill come closer. The Christmas music was now blaring so loud she was tempted to cover her ears. The driver must really like the age-old song, she thought.

The truck stopped in front of her car, and she bent over to retrieve her purse from the car.

 “Ho, ho, ho. I heard you’re having a problem.”

The deep voice struck a chord to a long-ago memory from her childhood. 

“Aren’t you into the holiday spirit?” She straightened and turned. “Sorry you had to come out on Christmas Eve—”

Gloria flung her arms outward to gain some balance as she felt herself falling. “Ohhhh, nooooo...”

Unable to evade the expected outcome, she held out her hand as she hit the ground hard. Her body jerked and then fell backward, causing her head to hit the pavement. Pain like a mother migraine surged from the back of her head to her forehead. She felt strong arms wrap around her upper body, lifting her. Before the expected blackness took over, she was able to fixate on a familiar pair of blue eyes. 

“Nick?”

Who’s Been Naughty or Nice
by Sonja Gunter

Northern Polar Printing Company’s President, Zane Ashcroft, is in love with the Vice President, Annie McGrath. From their first encounter, both knew they were destined to be together. At the annual Christmas party, Zane, who dresses up as Santa, intends to propose to Annie after dinner. A recent argument concerning Nick, the janitor, and a shocking development thwarts his intentions.

Will Annie get that long awaited chance at love and happiness and risk being on Santa’s naughty and nice list? 

**Now available as an audiobook!**

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“There’s no need for you to come inside. We need a break from each other—time to think about our relationship.”

He heard her choke over the last words. She still didn’t look at him.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and left the car. He watched her walk to the front door where she paused. He held his breath as he waited for her to turn, but she didn’t. She opened the door and went inside, closing it behind her.

Zane hit the steering wheel. Granting her request was the hardest thing he’d done in a very long time. Light snow began to fall as he drove across town to his home. Several ideas came to him on how to resolve their argument.

Flowers? No, too predictable. Box of Norman Loves Chocolate? No, too cheesy.

More things came to mind, but as the song “The Twelve Days of Christmas” played on the radio, it triggered a plan. He’d use cards as the twelve days before his proposal. The numbers would work if he started tomorrow. He’d have to swing by Walgreens before work.

His two-story brick house loomed in front of him. It was not his home any longer. He’d been spending so much time at Annie’s and making her home theirs. Opening the door, cold greeted him. He cranked up the thermostat and went into the kitchen, starting the Krups’ coffee machine. It spitted and hissed. He reached for a coffee cup as the doorbell rang.

“Coming!”

Spilling the coffee he’d just poured, he hurried to the front door, unsure who it could be.

“Mr. North?” Zane eyeballed a red limo parked in the street. It stood out like a beckon against the grayness.

“Zane, I hope I’m not disrupting anything.”

“No, no. Come on in.” He held open the door. “Sorry about the chillness, I turned up the heat.”

“A little cold isn’t going to hurt me.”

“I don’t have much in the house to offer you. I haven’t been grocery shopping in days. I just made coffee, would you like a cup?”

“That works for me.”

Zane led him into the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time Mr. North had shown up at his doorstep, but tonight of all times was odd. He poured another cup of coffee and wiped up the earlier spillage from the counter top.

“I know it’s late, but I flew here right after concluding business with Mr. Moonracer. I felt not everyone was happy at my announcement.”

“You’re right. Annie… Ms. Ashcroft, didn’t like being kept out of the loop,” Zane confessed and sat in one the high back chairs.

“Oh, I see.”

Leaning on one elbow, Zane rested his head on his hand. “As a matter of fact, she’s fuming.”

Mr. North laughed and went to the refrigerator. He took out a carton of cream and poured some into his coffee.

Zane wondered when he’d gotten that. He hoped it was still good.

“She’ll understand soon. She’s been on my Nice List for a very long time. I’ve kept an eye on her.”

Zane straightened his shoulders. “A Nice List? I’m not a kid. This whole day has been peculiar from the start. Now it’s ending even weirder. I’ve appreciated everything you’ve done for me, but now isn’t the time for your—”

“Zane, the time has come for you to know the truth.”

Mr. North pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose and laughed as he pulled his earlobe.

A delightful smell of cookies flooded the kitchen. Zane inhaled and stared wide eyed at him.

I was born and raised in the cold and beautiful Minnesota, but I escaped to Illinois for seventeen years to raise my two boys, and now I call Florida home. My husband Andy, who’s always been my hero, has put up with my late night computer typing and endless stacks of papers with my stories on them. We have one furry friend as family: Chip, a sixteen year old ragdoll cat.

Life has been full of ups and downs, but I’ve made it through the hard times. I love to travel and go to Disney World to trade pins.  I’ve been a bowler for many years, and you can catch me writing my next novel at the lanes.

I encourage you to check out my web site, www.sonjagunter.com for more info and don’t be surprised if I let my Norwegian heritage come through in my stories.

Go Vikings! You betcha!

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Enter the Sonja Gunter’s Holiday Romance Audiobooks Giveaway

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SPOTLIGHT - HOLIDAY LGBTQ+ - The Christmas Knockout by Wren Valentino

The Christmas Knockout

by Wren Valentino

Date of Publication: December 5th 2025

Publisher: Blue Dasher Press 

Cover Artist: James at GoOnWrite.com

Genre: M/M Romance

ASIN: B0G5B8G3H1

Word Count: 5K

Tagline: When a lonely reporter meets a legendary fighter, Christmas delivers its sweetest knockout.

BLURB

A steamy, romantic Christmas Eve encounter between a lonely reporter and a charming boxing champion. When journalist Grayson Lane meets newly out boxing star Sergio Cavallo, their interview quickly turns into an unexpected escape from a stuffy gala and a night filled with honesty, heat, and holiday vulnerability. In Grayson’s tiny apartment, sparks fly and two lonely men discover a connection neither saw coming.

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Excerpt:
Dressed as formally as his casual wardrobe allowed, Grayson arrived sans tie at the staff entrance of a local banquet hall. It was only a few blocks away from the three-story building where the newspaper had occupied for nearly a hundred years, and a short walk from his one-bedroom apartment he shared with a fluffy cat named Duke. The streets were wet from a rumbling rainstorm that had decided to take a short break, much to Grayson’s luck. Sparkling Christmas lights shimmered in puddles, covering the cobblestoned alley with a palette of cozy holiday hues. The banquet hall was similar in neo-Gothic architecture as the old newspaper building. Locals swore the place was haunted just by the sight of it. Secretly, Grayson hoped it was.
He rang the entrance bell and waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot. When there was no response, he rang again. Finally, the old door creaked open, revealing a scruffy man in a tuxedo, sporting large, black-framed glasses. The man eyed Grayson for an explanation for this intrusion.
“I’m Grayson Lane,” he said. When that didn’t get him invited inside, he continued. “I’m here to interview Sergio Cavallo.”
“You’re a reporter?” the man rumbled in a gravelly voice. For a moment, Grayson half-expected to see the swirl of cigarette smoke in the air as if he’d somehow stumbled into a classic film noir.
Sir, are you related to Humphrey Bogart by any chance?
“Yes, I am,” Grayson explained, shivering.
The man glanced him over and said, “You look like a delivery boy.”
“Thanks,” he muttered. “May I see Sergio now?”
With what looked like reluctance, the man with salt and pepper wavy hair nodded and pushed the door open wider. It creaked again and Grayson couldn’t help but wonder if the spooky sound was a warning.
Once inside, Grayson was led down a series of dimly lit corridors, all with walls adorned with framed paintings of the Scottish founders of the city and, apparently, the ones responsible for the building they were moving through.
            Finally, they stopped. The man in the tuxedo knocked on a door before entering. He looked back and said to Grayson, “Come. Mr. Cavallo is waiting for you.”
            Pausing for a moment in the hallway, Grayson drew in a steadying breath, reflecting over the hours of research he’d conducted to prepare for this assignment. Exhaling, he opened the door and entered the room. Glancing around, Grayson determined he was standing in the center of a private lounge that was trying hard to be swanky but really looked like the set of an adult film, complete with dimmed lighting in not-so-subtle shades of hot pink, electric blue, and amber. The furniture was leather, and the carpet looked thick and soft.
Positioned as if he were sitting on a throne was Sergio Cavallo, looking rather distinguished in a fashionable blazer, slacks, and crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone to reveal olive-tinged bare skin. The dark-haired Italian boxer looked like the undefeated boxing champ that he was, The King of The Ring as many commentators appropriately referred to him. No wonder many had fallen under his spell.
            What Grayson wasn’t expecting was how flushed he felt when Sergio looked into his eyes and with a delicious and very inviting smile said, “Well…hello. You’re not what I was expecting.”
            Trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside of him, Grayson held Sergio’s stare and responded confidently, “And neither are you. I’m Grayson Lane.”
            The boxer leaned forward. His dark brown eyes held an expression of tenderness, despite his savage reputation of being a beast of a boxer. His facial hair was a few shades lighter than the almost jet-black hair on his head and looked like a modern version of a Van Dyke. “I’m curious,” said Sergio. Grayson felt the man’s eyes wash over his body as if he were drinking water from his pores. “Grayson, am I somehow a disappointment?”
            Grayson spied an empty chair directly across from Sergio. Not waiting to be asked to sit, he took a seat, sinking into the soft leather. The comfort of the chair soothed his nerves, grounding him in the moment. “Not at all,” he said. “It’s not every day I get to interview a champion.”
            Seeming satisfied with Grayson’s answer, Sergio grinned. “I like you,” he noted.
            “Give it time,” Grayson countered with a playful tone to match the smile on his face.

            “I’m ready when you are,” Sergio said, his words dripping with hot innuendo. “For the interview, I mean.”

Author Info

Wren Valentino is a multifaceted storyteller—an actor, author, entrepreneur, film producer, critic, and instructor—whose work spans stage, screen, and page. A bestselling novelist with twenty-one books across romance, thriller, young adult, and horror, he has built a reputation for crafting emotionally rich, genre-spanning narratives.

An accomplished playwright, Wren has written more than seventy stage plays produced in twelve countries and three languages. His success extends to the screen as well, with eight original screenplays and seven stage plays adapted into films. As a film producer, he has contributed to the creation of over one hundred independent movies, and as an actor, he has appeared in more than forty films.

Wren earned his Bachelor of Arts in Communications and English from Oglethorpe University, graduating with honors. He holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Queens University of Charlotte and completed the Professional Program in Screenwriting at UCLA.

A dedicated member of the writing community, Wren belongs to Contemporary Romance Writers, the International Screenwriters’ Association, Rainbow Romance Writers, and the Romance Writers of America, which recognized his service with a Volunteer Service Award.

https://wrenvalentino.com
https://www.facebook.com/wrenvalentino/
https://www.instagram.com/wrenvalentino/
https://www.tiktok.com/@wrenvalentino
https://x.com/wrenvalentino  (NSFW/18+)

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SPOTLIGHT - HOLIDAY PNR - FURS, FNAGS, & MISTLETOE (Christmas Cove, #1) by Jessica Coulter Smith

When a struggling single mom and her adorable toddler get snowed in with a grumpy wolf shifter, Christmas magic starts working overtime.

Fur, Fangs, & Mistletoe
Christmas Cove, #1
by Jessica Coulter Smith
Genre: Paranormal Holiday Romance

Escape to Christmas Cove, a cozy small town where magic, shifters, and holiday romance collide.

After a painful breakup, Riley is ready for a fresh start in Christmas Cove. All she wants is a peaceful life for herself and her two-year-old daughter, Sabrina. Love isn’t on her holiday wish list. When she’s stuck in a blizzard, help arrives in the form of Alex Conors -- a protective, brooding werewolf.

Snowed in with a grumpy shifter and a crackling fire, Riley begins to see the gentle heart behind Alex’s fierce exterior… and Alex finds himself falling for the brave single mom who awakens something he thought he lost long ago.

Hot cocoa and toddler giggles turn strangers into something more. But when Riley’s past resurfaces and threatens the safety she’s found, Alex will have to prove that loyalty, love -- and pack -- are forever.

A warm, emotional holiday romance filled with shifter charm, second chances, and the magic of Christmas. Ideal for fans of protective alphas, found family, and heartfelt happily-ever-afters.

 

🏠 Small-town charm & found family
🐺 Grumpy wolf + sunshine single mom
👩‍👧 Adorable toddler moments
🎁 Snowed-in & forced proximity
💕 Fated mates and holiday magic

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The sedan’s engine rattled -- a sound Riley had learned to distinguish from its other mechanical complaints over the past three states. This particular rattle meant she’d make it another fifty miles, maybe more if she kept her speed steady. Her knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel somewhere around the state line, and she couldn’t remember now how to relax them. The GPS showed their arrival in Christmas Cove, and Riley’s shoulders tensed further, an automatic response to any declaration of reaching a destination.

Dusk had settled over the town. Main Street stretched before her, lined with Victorian storefronts that belonged in a Thomas Kincade painting. White lights twisted around lampposts, and wreaths hung at precise intervals, each decorated with the same combination of pine cones and red ribbon. Fresh snow dusted the sidewalks in a way that seemed too perfect, too deliberate. Riley checked her rearview mirror again -- the same compulsive glance she’d made every thirty seconds for the past six hours. Empty road. No one following. No one cared where she went.

She drove slowly past the Sugar Moon Café, noting its warm glow and the silhouettes of people inside. Past a bookstore with a display of holiday romances in the window. Past a hardware store already closed for the evening, its owner probably home with family, sitting down to dinner, living a normal life. The thought made something twist in Riley’s chest, but she pushed it down. Normal was a luxury she couldn’t afford to want.

The residential streets branched off from downtown. Riley followed the GPS directions, checking the crumpled paper in her cup holder against the street signs and the directions from the GPS. One too many times, it had taken her the wrong way. Oak Street. Maple Avenue. Someone had named these roads with an almost nauseating wholesomeness, as if determined to prove the town’s charm. She turned onto Pine Ridge Road, where the houses grew sparser and the forest pressed closer to the road.

A small sound from the backseat made Riley’s gaze dart to the mirror. Sabrina stirred in her car seat, her head rolling to the side as she woke from the nap that had mercifully consumed the last hour of driving. Riley watched her daughter’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness and the strange lights outside.

“Mama?” Sabrina’s voice carried that quality of toddler confusion. Not quite upset, but teetering on the edge of it.

“We’re here, sweetie.” Riley forced warmth into her voice, though her jaw ached from clenching. “Look at all the pretty lights.”

Sabrina pressed her mittened hands against the window, leaving tiny smudges on the glass. “Lights!” She bounced in her seat as much as the straps would allow. “Pretty, Mama! Pretty!”

“Very pretty.” Riley’s smile felt tight on her face. She wanted to share her daughter’s uncomplicated joy, but she kept scanning the streets, cataloging escape routes, noting which houses had lights on and which sat dark. Old habits. Necessary habits.

The GPS announced their final turn, and Riley’s breath caught. The cottage stood at the end of a short gravel drive, a small structure someone’s grandfather had most likely built and barely maintained enough to keep standing. A single porch light illuminated the front door, and beyond it, the forest loomed.

Riley pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by Sabrina’s humming as she kicked her feet against her car seat. Riley sat motionless, her hands still gripping the wheel, and studied their new home.

The cottage was smaller than the photos had suggested. Single-story, with a chimney that leaned slightly to the left. The windows were dark, revealing nothing of the interior. Snow had drifted against the front steps, undisturbed except for what looked like animal tracks, probably a deer or raccoon. The porch railing needed paint, and one shutter hung at an angle.

But for now the house was theirs. For six months, at least, with the first month paid in advance with money Riley had saved from extra shifts and skipped meals. Six months to figure out what came next. After that, she’d have to either renew the lease, or move on to another town.

“Out, Mama!” Sabrina had moved past patient and into demanding. “Out now!”

“Just a minute, baby.”

Riley scanned the neighboring properties. The nearest house sat quite a distance down the road, its windows dark. On the other side, nothing but forest. The isolation should have comforted her. Fewer people meant fewer questions, fewer chances of being found. But instead, it made her hyperaware of how alone they were. No witnesses if something went wrong. No one to hear them scream.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought. Nothing was going to go wrong. This was a fresh start in a quiet town where nobody knew her name or her history. Where Sabrina could grow up without her mother constantly looking over her shoulder.

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a passion for storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability to transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and entertain readers from all walks of life.

Find her online…

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HOLIDAY ROM-COM - ELF ON THE EDGE (Wynter Brothers, #3) by Alina Jacobs

Elf on the Edge

The Wynter Brothers, #3

by Alina Jacobs

Publication date: November 4th 2025

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance.

BLURB

Hire a hitman to take out my cheating ex? It was an eggnog-fueled mistake, I swear!
On Christmas Eve, my perfect fiancé stands up at the altar to declare his pure undying love… for my evil stepsister.
Cue public humiliation, a ruined wedding, and me crawling back to my small hometown to work minimum wage at my granny’s Christmas café.
Just living the holiday dream.

But I refuse to show up sad and alone to my cheating ex and man-stealing stepsister’s engagement party.
I’ll be devoured by gossipy small-town vultures.
So I do what any rational woman would: empty her bank account, max out her credit cards, and hire a high-end escort with the Merry Christmas package.
Too bad I mess up the number and accidentally hire… a hitman.
Oops.
This is why I hate making phone calls.

I realize I’m screwed when Talbot Wynter crashes the party all combat boots, dirty jeans, and washboard abs.
He feels me up, drinks all the booze, flirts with my grandmother, then tries to off my cheating ex in his hotel room.
I scream and make him stop him because I may or may not still pathetically have feelings for my ex.

Talbot thinks I’m insane.
He might be right.
But his company has a strict no-refunds policy.
Now I’m stuck dragging this six-foot-five, potty-mouthed menace of an ex-Marine to Christmas tree cuttings, gingerbread baking, and holiday parties—
All while he tries to convince me to let him take out my ex so he can go snowboarding.

But what if my ex is moved by the holiday spirit and realizes he still loves me and comes home for Christmas?
Or, he would if I could just get this hitman out of my bedroom… and my panties.

Holiday hamster-wheel victims assemble! We’re dodging holiday drama, downing peppermint schnapps, and fending off meddling grandmothers with boundary issues and a death grip on our dating lives. This standalone holiday romantic comedy is packed with chaos, Christmas cookies, and a filthy-mouthed bad boy (and that’s not steel in his pants) guaranteed to leave you swooning under the mistletoe. Happily ever after and holiday cheer guaranteed!

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EXCERPT

“Wait, where are you going? I thought we were having sex,” I wail as he opens up the window and swings one leg out.

“Excuse me?” He swivels back inside and pulls off the black mask. “Why in the hell would I have sex with you?”

“Are you kidding me right now? Are you fucking—because you’re a fucking prostitute.” I’m sobbing now. “And I paid you a fuck-ton of money to pretend to be my boyfriend and to have sex with me.”

His mouth drops open.

It would be funny if all my money weren’t gone.

“Gumdrop.” He jumps back into the room, the soft shoes silent on the carpet. “You did what?”

“You’re a high-end escort, but you really don’t live up to the promise.” I sniffle.

I’m fishing for more mini bottles. Talbot slams the fridge door.

“You really have drunk too much.” He cups my face. “Gumdrop. You paid me to assassinate your ex, Austen Langley. Remember?”

“Assassinate? Like kill, kill? Or just like, you’re going to glitter-bomb him?” I squeak.

“Yeah, ‘Grandma gets run over by a reindeer’ level of dead.”

My knees collapse, and I plop down on the floor like Christmas cookie dough.

“I did a… you’re a… I hired an…”

“Assassin?” He unzips the black bag and pulls out the biggest gun. Like, comically large. Movie-villain large. Plus three knives and what might be a torture device along with zip ties and duct tape.

My stomach twists.

“I prefer hitman,” he says, cheerful, like we’re chatting over wine and charcuterie. “Assassin sounds a little bougie. I just kill people and make it look like an accident.”

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” I groan.

“For Austen,” he rambles, obviously pleased with himself, “it’s going to look like he partied too hard and paid the price.”

“Then, but the—” I point to the gun, trying not to hyperventilate.

“This?” he gives it a kiss. “Just a little insurance policy in case things go south. But I have a pretty good plan in place. No one will think he’s been murdered. Everyone saw him downing drink after drink. All the women are off in the hot tub. All his NHL friends are super drunk.”

Talbot shows me his phone. There’s Brielle on the livestream doing a stripper dance, all for the eyes of my fake boyfriend. Shoot, my fake fake boyfriend, because…

Because a cold-blooded killer is standing in my suite, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks. I start scooching back on the carpet.

Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. The dead eyes, the total lack of empathy in his face, the glee as he describes how he’s going to kill Austen, my Austen, my one true love.

 

Author Info

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books...

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

http://alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html

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Elf on the Edge Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HOLIDAY ROM-COM - CAN'T HURRY CHRISTMAS by Melissa Baldwin

Can’t Hurry Christmas

by Melissa Baldwin

Publication date: November 13th 2025

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

BLURB

The holiday spirit is the last thing on my mind, and he’s focused on his new beginning. But one mistletoe moment might change everything.

Callie
Spending the holidays alone for the first time in four years wasn’t exactly on my wish list. But with a major shake-up at work and more changes than I ever saw coming, embracing my new reality seems like the only option.

And then there’s Travis—charming, handsome, and a Texas drawl that could make any woman weak in the knees. But is it too soon to start something new? I’ve been out of the dating game for a while, and maybe this season is meant for family, friends, and finding joy in my new season.

One thing’s for sure—I’m in no hurry for Christmas to arrive.

Travis
Christmas in the Northeast? In the freezing cold? Yeah, not exactly my idea of home. But turning down this job offer wasn’t an option—it’s the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around every day.

Still, spending the holidays away from everything and everyone I love is tougher than I expected. And then there’s Callie. I never planned to meet someone like her, let alone work so closely with her.

Now I’m left wondering… is taking this risk worth everything I’ve worked for?

Have you read the award-winning UnLucky Christmas? Don’t miss the chance to catch up with your favorite characters in Can’t Hurry Christmas from USA Today Bestselling Author Melissa Baldwin.

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EXCERPT

“Callie, I know this isn’t a typical holiday season for you. I can’t imagine how you are feeling now that…things are different without …”

“You can say his name, Hannah.”

“Joey,” she says softly. “I’m sorry. I know this is a difficult time.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry. I asked him to set a wedding date, and he said he wasn’t ready and didn’t know when he would be. That pretty much told me everything I needed to know. Our goals were not exactly as aligned as I thought they were.”

She places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Proud? For getting dumped?”

“No. For not settling,” she explains. “And for letting me drag you into crazy holiday chaos instead of spending the night alone, binge-watching TV shows you’ve seen a hundred times.”

I laugh under my breath. “You’re not wrong. This is good for me—I always do better when I’m busy.”

“You might even enjoy yourself at the festive family night,” she says, tying another bow in less than two seconds.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be a blast,” I say flatly. “Hundreds of children, awkward small talk, and tacky decor. I’m all in.”

She giggles. “By the way, Anna’s new friend is coming with us. Her name’s Mia. She’s such a sweetheart.”

“Cool,” I say, biting my lip as I attempt another bow.

“And her dad’s meeting us there.”

I glance up. “Okay?”

“He’s a very nice guy…”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s great. Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”

She conveniently avoids making eye contact with me.

“Hannah…”

“Yes?”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything,” she says, innocently. “I just thought it might be nice for you to meet a new friend.”

I stare at her. I should’ve known she was up to something. She was very insistent that I go to the festive family night.

She shrugs. “Anyway, he’s single. And nice. He has a good job. And he’s very—”

“Stop right there,” I interrupt. “No setups. You promised.”

“I didn’t set you up,” she says. “I merely mentioned that a single, employed man who also happens to be a devoted father will be in the same vicinity as you.”

“Oh, well in that case,” I say, rolling my eyes again.

She smirks and reaches over to take the mangled ribbon from my hands. “Here, let me help. You’re not exactly grasping the bow tying process here.”

“I didn’t get Mom’s crafty gene like you,” I mutter.

She laughs. “No. But you certainly inherited the moody gene from her.”

“I’m not the only one,” I tell her.

She holds up a perfectly wrapped box, complete with an elaborate gold bow. “See? We make a good team.”

“Always,” I say. “You do the work, and I’m here for moral support.”

 

Author Info

USA Today bestselling author Melissa Baldwin always dreamed of sharing her stories with the world. She brought this vision to life, becoming an award-winning, bestselling author of over thirty romantic comedies and cozy mysteries. Melissa is also a wife, mother, new empty-nester, and travel advisor.

Her books feature charming, ambitious, and real women, whom she considers part of her tribe. Although she rarely takes a day off, when she's not writing, she enjoys quality time with her family, traveling, attempting yoga poses, and booking Disney vacations. Melissa still uses a paper planner, and her guilty pleasures include Beverly Hills 90210 reruns and General Hospital.

Visit authormelissabaldwin .com to sign up for her newsletter.

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HOLIDAY SUSPENSE - THAT BOY (Cheshire Set, #3) by Briar Black

That Boy

The Cheshire Set, #3

by Briar Black

Publication date: November 6th 2025

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance, Suspense

BLURB

Building an impossible tea farm in the Cheshire countryside was Sofia’s second chance. A way to prove herself. A fresh start. She knew it would be graft. She anticipated a degree of isolation. But with Christmas imminent and the farm failing, her thoughts have grown darker. She’s searching for something — an ineffable force to make this year the magical wonderland she always craves and never finds.

Yet with the farm failing there’s no time to fix her ailing social life. Sofia resigns herself to another lonely holiday.

Enter Matt.

Delaware Grange’s twenty-one-year-old assistant gamekeeper. Nice enough, a bit dopey.

As she hunkers down for winter, Sofia thinks she’s prepared for everything. Nothing could prepare her for Matt. For the abrupt awareness of him. For the way he’s far more capable than he seems. Thoughtful. Considerate. Quietly intelligent.

Way sexier than he appears.

Suddenly impossible to ignore.

But Matt isn’t what he seems. A darkness runs beneath Delaware Grange — insidious, creeping, buried deep.

Sofia was little more than a challenge, a box for Matt to check, an assignment to complete. Until he fell.

Hard.

Now all he sees is her. All he wants is her. And all he knows is she has no idea who he truly is. While Sofia fights her feelings in the face of forbidden fruit, and Matt wrestles with the reality of his true purpose on the estate, the pair fall into an intoxicating, passionate, volatile romance.

As winter deepens and Christmas closes in, two lonely souls struggle to find peace in each other, and trust becomes the most dangerous choice on the estate.

Falling for Matt threatens everything Sofia has worked so hard to build. Falling for Sofia might just be the making of Matt.

That Boy is a high-heat, secret-identity romance where desire, deception, and devotion collide in a snowy small-town Christmas.

While not required, it is highly suggested to read Nightshade before That Boy.

Author’s Note: Each novel in The Cheshire Set can be read as a standalone, but the following order avoids spoiling the reading experience of earlier books.

Recommended Reading Order for The Cheshire Set:

1. Bane
2. Nightshade
3. That Boy

Eve Was Framed, a prequel novella to Bane, isn’t strictly part of The Cheshire Set but is available for free download on the author’s website.

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EXCERPT

‘Twas The Gloam Before Christmas…

A quiet, introspective moment between Matt and Sofia after a near-disaster. As they talk about “The Gloaming”—that melancholy space between Halloween and Christmas—their chemistry deepens and the novel’s central themes of loneliness, yearning, and rediscovery of light emerge.

“What’s the Gloaming?”

“Oh. Right.” I shifted, trying to find a way to lean that didn’t hurt my shoulder. It was useless. Until someone could pop it back in, I was doomed to dull agony. “It’s that feeling that threatens to drown you…” I paused, swallowing hard and staring out the window.

The world nearly drowned me tonight.

“This time every year.” I finally managed. “You know?”

Keep talking. Stay conscious. Don’t toss your cookies into his lap.

“That…overwhelming urge to…cover everything in cheer. But…” I took a little more water. “…the more you try, the less cheerful you feel. So you just keep…adding more.”

He chuckled.

“Hoping the cheer finds you before you’re…” Another tiny sip of water. “…crushed by baubles and fake fir garlands.”

He stared at me.

Great. Now he thinks I’m a total weirdo.

“I get it.” A slow smile spread across his face. “You’re staring at all the decorations. Watching the snow fall. And somewhere inside you’re sure you love Christmas. But you never quite seem to feel it.”

“Yes!” I sat up, and momentarily thought I’d blackout from the effort.

He eased me back into the sofa.

“Nailed it.” I swallowed. Talking was so much effort. Thinking was weirdly worse. “It’s a coping mechanism, I guess.”

He nodded, but when I didn’t continue, he made a winding motion with his hands.

“Every year this…fog descends. When Halloween’s over. This looming sense of…dread.”

“And it’s right when everyone else is getting excited.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Not me.” The wind howled savagely by, rattling the window and making us both jump. I turned my face away from the glass, not wanting to think about the carnage outside. “I’m sat there like a…miserly Scrooge.”

“Scrooge was never that pretty.”

I shook my head. “Don’t flirt with me.”

“Keep talking then.”

I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sleep.

My eyes drifted, and he nudged my knee with his. “Sof?”

With gargantuan effort, I rallied. “Welcome to Gloamas!” I wheezed. “Not quite Christmas. Not quite apathy. Some…twisted netherworld.”

He permitted me another tiny sip of water for my effort.

I swallowed it and continued, “You’re stuck for weeks. Longing to be…joyful and merry. But…that ineffable light is…absent.”

Matt pursed his lips. “So…it’s not gloomy, it’s gloamy. You’re in the twilight. Daylight’s gone. You know it will be back at some point, but in the interim, you’re left with a hollow echo—”

“How you…loved Christmas…as a kid,” I managed. “Desperately wish to…feel it all.”

He grinned. “But for now, the light’s faded. Until the sun rises, you’re left wisting after a feeling.”

I stared at him. “And someone to share it with.”

Matty shifted a little closer. He was still soaking wet from the rain. Must have been freezing. Yet he hadn’t complained. Hadn’t even seemed to notice. I leant into him and shivered. More at the thought of how cold he must be than anything else. But he stripped off my blankets (now soaked) and wrapped me in two new dry ones.

The phone rang, and he shot up to grab it.

“She’s okay, I think. Conscious, talking, the bleeding’s stopped. Her shoulder’s bad, but—”

A pause as whoever was on the other end of the line spoke.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” He peered out of the window. “The rain’s still coming down hard.”

Another pause.

“Okay. We’ll be here.”

He hung up. “Sounds like the storm’s passing. It’s lightening up at the house, and the rain’s almost stopped down there. They’re on their way up. By the time they get here, it should have cleared.”

“The track will be murder.” I tried to sit up.

He moved and blocked me, forcing me to stay still. “Easy.”

“Give me the phone.”

“They’ve already left, Sof.”

I struggled some more.

“Stop!”

Calm. But firm. Commanding.

I’ve never heard him speak like that before.

“Stop.”

Softer. Eyes searching mine.

My heart fluttered.

“We’d all gladly risk a bit of fucking mud to get you safe. You must know that?”

My breath caught. My chest constricted painfully. His jaw was locked. The look in his eyes was…feral.

And so fucking hot.

There’s really something wrong with me.

Satisfied I wasn’t about to bolt for the door, he sat back down. Glanced around.

“Is that why all your decorations are so…weirdly depressing?”

“They’re not.” I sniffed.

“They really are, Sof. Like…they’re full of the festive spirit but don’t quite hit the mark.”

He glanced at my forlorn little tree. Which, in fairness, was at least standing vertically now. I’d come in one day to find him scrambling around on the floor, fiddling with the screws on the base to get it standing straight.

He was right. The baubles were desolate.

I loved them.

“I like them.” Matt wrapped the blankets tighter around me. “They’re comfortingly depressing. How Christmas should be. It always just…kind of reminds you of all you’re missing in life.”

 

Author Info

Briar has been a professional copywriter for many years (far more than she cares to admit). She began her career working for large companies and agencies before realising she could do it all for herself. Now, she happily writes for businesses and entrepreneurs she’s passionate about and dreams of the day her fiction becomes popular enough for her to retreat into fictional worlds full-time. Growing up in Cheshire and falling in love with its countryside, small towns, and villages, she’s enjoyed creating a fictional world that reflects her own.

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