Hello everyone and thank you to Tarah and Coffee Time Romance for having me!
Christmas has to be one of my favorite times of year, and I’m sure I’m not in the minority. After all, who can dislike a season celebrating peace, generosity of spirit and family time? Throw in some good food, and we have the makings of fun times.
As a parent of small children, much of the season involves fostering a sense of belief in the magical and sharing in the innocence of our kids. My sons are now 10 and 12, and sadly they have joined the ranks of mature folks who know “the truth.” However, I can still recall the joy of previous Christmases, when so much of our time involved letters to Santa, visiting the jolly man at the mall, and hoping he’d bring that special toy. Inevitably, each child begins to suspect the truth about Santa. For my eldest son, a very wily child, that time came when he hit the age of 9. Even at that tender age, he began analyzing the evidence: Santa’s footprints on our hearth, his handwriting on gift tags and he asked us a million questions about how Santa could accomplish such feats on Christmas Eve.
My hubby and I realized we had to employ clever tactics to help him believe just a little longer. That Christmas, my son claimed he wouldn’t believe in Santa’s authenticity unless he could speak with him. We’d always told him mums and dads had a special phone hotline to the North Pole. My son insisted on being able to call the hotline. We arranged it so my husband hid in the garage on the cellphone while I called him. “Santa” asked to speak with my son and they had a long chat.
While on the phone with Father Christmas, my son started walking around the house, searching for my husband, wondering if he was the man on the phone! Can you believe it? We managed to convince him that Daddy was doing errands at the store. When he came home, he expressed total surprise and delight in my son being able to contact Santa. My son bought it that year, but that was the last year he believed. And let me tell you”¦my hubby was shaking in his boots in the garage, wondering if he might be discovered.
If you have little kids, enjoy this time of innocence. It all changes so quickly. Christmas is still nice with older kids, but some of the magic disappears. That’s a magic we all need to experience.
I hope this holiday season brings you peace, love and much happiness. As my gift to you, I’ll be doing a giveaway of my paranormal romance Predator’s Serenade, Gemini Island Shifters 2 to one lucky reader.
Rosanna is giving away a copy of Predator’s Seranade, so leave a comment for chance to win!!
There are three things that make bear shifter Soren Snow’s skin crawl: mothers, their children, and the great outdoors. Soren is a famed musician and playboy, and he would rather spend his days pressing the flesh with the women in his fan club than developing meaningful relationships. When his brother calls in a favor, forcing Soren to revisit the Ursa Fishing Lodge in Northern Ontario, he couldn’t be more displeased. However, he owes his brother big time.
Gioia Clementine would rather not meet Soren, her drummer son’s rock idol. But when tragedy strikes her home, it seems the only one the boy might respond to is Soren. Gioia begrudgingly agrees to let her son meet him, hoping the rock star won’t turn her tween into a musical misogynist.
When Gioia and Soren meet, the sexual chemistry threatens to set the Ontario woodland ablaze. Can these two opposites find a common ground? And can they manage to resolve their unwanted feelings, even when a mysterious stranger arrives at the lodge, threatening everything?
Excerpt:
Gioia followed Soren’s approach with a curious eye. She’d wondered if the miracle kisser would beat a hasty retreat after witnessing her boy fall to pieces, and yet here he was. He wore the same famished look he had right before he’d ruined her for any other man’s kiss. And she felt it too. The tingles between her shoulder blade, the gelatin knees, and trembling lips that wanted to gobble him up.
She couldn’t. She didn’t want to saddle him with such a wreck of a woman or family.
He came right up to her, so close, as if making a mockery of the space that sought to separate them. Weaving his fingers through her hair, he cradled her skull and pulled her close. Tucking her head against his chest, he kissed the top of her head, blazing a trail of hot reaction down her spine. He had new clothes on and smelled fresh and clean. As she breathed him in, he rained soft kisses all over her head.
He knows.
She pulled away, suddenly terrified he’d think she was a travesty of a mother. It’s what anyone would think in his case. They’d wonder what Gioia had done wrong to create a monster child. But as she attempted to remove herself from his grasp, Soren fought her by holding her still. Again she tried jerking away from his wall of a chest. He held her firm.
When she tried two more times, each time unsuccessfully, he looked at her and shouted, “Dammit, woman, I am not letting you go, so you can stop pulling away from me!”
Something in Gioia broke. She’d been carrying her sadness around for so long, trying to be strong, and Soren was offering to be strong for her. For just a moment, maybe she could surrender. God only knew how badly she wanted to give herself to the bear man.
He grabbed her tighter, and his hands slid down to mold over her ass cheeks. His warm breath was all over her face, and she took a dizzying dive into the seas of his eyes. He ground her against him, and she was forced to stand on tip toes.
“Gioia,” he whispered.
She wound her arms about his tense neck, felt him tense further. Then “¦ a sigh somewhere in his big frame and a relaxation in his muscles. As if he needed to have her wound about him. As if it soothed him as much as her.
“Soren. Please.”
As he kissed her, he picked her up, his hands under her bottom. Her miniskirt rode up, and she spared a second to mentally curse her decision to wear it. And then she didn’t care.
Kissing her madly, Soren spirited her into the woods.
Rosanna Leo is a multi-published, erotic romance author with Liquid Silver Books. Her books include For the Love of a God, Up In Flames, and Sweet Hell. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair. She blogs at www.rosannaleo.blogspot.com
www.goodreads.com/author/show/5826852.Rosanna_Leo
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