Just in time for the new improved Kindles and Nooks you all got for Christmas, here’s my latest eXtasy Books release, the holiday-themed romance Snowflakes and Palm Trees.
When Tom McCoy fled to the
Florida Keys a year ago to get over a bad break-up, he never dreamed he’d meet beautiful Brooke Devlin, who was recovering from her own romantic mishap. They’ve returned to celebrate a magical year together – but when a former lover unexpectedly appears, there’s trouble in paradise. Will Tom and Brooke get around this unwanted intrusion and have a happy holiday? What other surprises will they find under the Christmas tree?
This story is a sequel to Mistletoe and Palm Trees but the books don’t need to be read in order, thanks to a prologue that re-introduces the characters and their situation. Of course, if anyone wants to read the first one before this installment, I won’t be offended.
This book is a milestone for me, because it’s the first romance I’ve written with a happily-ever-after ending. The others were all happy-for-now and this was different for me. My original intent was to end it with my usual “will they or won’t they?” fade-out, but as I wrote the story, it cried out for closure.
Here’s a bit of trivia. The first book was inspired by something that happened to me. I had scheduled a trip to
several years ago for a series of book signings but at the last minute my traveling companion became unavailable and I wound up going alone. That got the wheels turning as I thought “What if this guy went on vacation alone after breaking up with someone and met a woman who was there under similar circumstances?” Florida
Art imitating life – I love it! Here’s an excerpt:
Tom held Brooke close to him on the couch in the darkened living room of their suite. A radio station played Christmas music while they gazed at the small tree on the coffee table, illuminated by two burning votive candles on either side. The flames reflected off the shiny plastic snowflakes scattered on the tiny branches.
“It’s the prettiest tree I’ve ever seen,” Brooke said.
“It does have a certain amount of charm, doesn’t it?”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “The children were nestled, all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. How would you write that today?”
“I wouldn’t. Rule number one – never mess with a classic.”
“Come on,” she teased. “Make something up for me.”
Tom sipped his wine and thought. “Brooke cuddled Tom so close in the bed while visions of booties danced in her head.”
She laughed. “Too cute!”
“Sugarplums. People recite that poem every year and I’ll bet not one of them has ever seen a sugarplum. Have you ever seen a sugarplum?”
“No. What do they look like?”
Tom shrugged. “Beats me. I’ve never seen one, either. And what’s this thing about sugarplum fairies? Is that some new PC group?”
“Careful. I danced The Nutcracker when I took ballet lessons. You’re treading on hallowed ground.”
“When did you take ballet lessons?”
“When I was eight. I was a clumsy kid and my mom thought it would teach me to be graceful.”
“Why did you quit?”
“I liked Zumba better.”
Tom set his glass on the table then pulled her on top of him as he lay on his back. Brooke rested her open palms on his chest while straddling him. A wicked grin crossed her face.
“Does Santa have another present for me?”
He squeezed her ass. “That depends. Have you been a good little girl this year?”
She slowly shook her head, causing her hair to swish on her shoulders. “I’ve been such a b-a-a-a-d girl. What’s Santa going to do to me?”
“Make you even badder.”
He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her. Brooke lay on top of him and ran her fingers through his hair while probing his mouth with her tongue. Tom slid his hands under her sweater and caressed her back, then moved them down to her ass, kneading her firm flesh through her jeans. Brooke kissed him with more intensity and moaned softly while grinding her pelvis against his.
Tom felt her hand fondling his crotch, making him stiffen. He slipped one hand between her legs from behind and rubbed her. Brooke responded by rocking against his hand and kissing him with more heat.
After several minutes of dry humping she sat upright, pulled her sweater over her head and cast it aside. Tom reached up to tease her nipples while she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers along his pecs. The flames from the candles cast an erotic silhouette on the wall.
* * * *
If that didn’t melt the snow on your roof, you must live in the tropics. Happy new year, everyone!
Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author whose books range from romantic mystery/thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. His website is www.timsmithauthor.com.