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About the author:
The best-selling, award-winning authors who gave you A Cowboy to Keep, are together again to bring you holiday cheer. Hebby Roman, Hildie McQueen, Devon McKay, Andrea Downing, Kristy McCaffrey, and Patti Sherry-Crews call Texas, Georgia, Ohio, Wyoming and New York, and Illinois respectively. They all write in the genres of historical and contemporary romance.
What inspired you to write your book?
The Christmas season and everything that comes with it! Family, tradition, nostalgia, music, the food, and finding that special someone.
Here is a short sample from the book:
An Excerpt from The Peppermint Tree
Joe scanned the crowded dance floor. Where was she?
A merry melee of couples crowded before him, tuxedos and gowns of various lengths all meshed together beneath a flashing disco ball.
He caught sight of Tina three tables over. He spun around and headed in the opposite direction, and spied Skye at the bar.
He came up behind her and leaned his mouth close to her ear. “You can’t keep avoiding me.”
She jumped. “My God. You’re so quiet. What are you? An assassin?”
“Just a cowboy. How about a dance?”
She didn’t exactly agree but didn’t resist when he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her to the dance floor. Once they infiltrated the throng of couples clinging to one another as they swayed to Frank Sinatra, Skye turned to him, her face a blank mask. He folded her hand into his and wrapped his other arm around her, enjoying her proximity. Spending time with her hadn’t unfolded as organically as he’d hoped, since she’d managed to avoid him for large chunks of the evening.
“Did seeing Anderson make you feel like you were at prom again?” he asked, trying to ignore the cleavage teasing his senses and the heady scent reminding him of wildflowers.
She shrugged. “He’s doing well, of which I’m glad, and his wife is very lovely.”
She wouldn’t look at him, her countenance as icy as a frozen lake.
“Am I missing something here?” he asked.
“I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“I was hoping to spend some time with you.”
Putting distance between them, she raised her chin and locked eyes with him. “Are you now? What a piece of work you are, Carrigan.”
Her anger ignited the small space between them.
“Why do you say that?” He pressed his hand against her back to keep her from walking away, because one thing was certain—she was about ready to bolt.
“I’m tired of being at your beck and call.” Her voice seethed in a furious whisper. “You rejected me all those years ago, and now you’re just stringing me along again. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t keep treating me like some consolation prize and expect me to put up with it.”
Taken aback by her outburst, he attempted to regroup. “I’m not stringing you along.”
“I can’t do this anymore.” She tried to leave again, but he held fast to her. “I can’t be your friend,” she bit out, her voice still lowered so as not to attract attention. “I’ve tried. It’s too difficult.”
The shadow of pain in her eyes brought him up short.
He’d had no idea how much he had screwed up until this instant.
He grabbed her hand and led her out of the ballroom as Brenda Lee started singing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” His grip firm, he wasn’t about to let her go.
Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC