Have Yourself a Sexy Little Christmas

I’m glad that there’s a chill in the air today. I love winter, and I like wearing sweaters, so I’m all set. Besides, winter is a great time to snuggle… and a better time to tell people about your Christmas books!

My series of erotic-romances for Rebel Ink are all holiday stories – Christmas, Valentine’s, Halloween, Thanksgiving and New Years. I’m not sure why/how I got into writing so much holiday stuff (I also have a Christmas romance with another press), but it’s sort of become my niche in life. I recall snuggling down with many a Christmas romance novel purloined from my mum’s stash as a teen, so perhaps it affected me more than I thought at the time.

Holidays are wonderful back-drops to stories – they each have their own magic, their own feel, their own themes and feelings. I love writing stories within that context.

The first in my series, Good for the Goose, is a Christmas story. It’s about a 30-something, successful professor, Natasha, who is less than successful in her personal life. In fact, she’s just gone through a crushing divorce, when her husband ran off with a student. Now, resigned to being single and professionally-oriented, she has tried to shut off everything personal.

Yet, when she gets snowed in with her oh-so-tempting, incredibly Latin (and young) teacher’s assistant, the graduate student Raphael, she’ll get a lot more for Christmas than she expected!

A short, hot read, which Just Erotic Romance Reviews said “reads like a novel,” Good for the Goose combines my beliefs that holidays are magic, and passion has the power to change lives for the better.

A small taste:

If there was one thing sexier than a twenty-three year old Spaniard, it was one who poured you a glass of red wine and encouraged you to put your feet up while he made you dinner.

And there he was. His firm, tight body floating around her kitchen as if he were performing some gourmet ballet for her enjoyment, surrounded by the most delicious smells. If his intention was to whet her appetite, he’d accomplished the mission with extraordinary zeal and success.

“Well,” she sighed, enjoying her unexpected position of watcher instead of cook. “I must say, I’m very impressed.”

“This? Nah.” he scoffed. “Cooking ““ it’s a joy.”

While prone to dimpled charm, Raphael was usually a very controlled, reserved young man around campus. But in the kitchen, with a damp dish towel over one shoulder and bits of red pepper stuck to his forearm, he exhibited an ease and comfort Natasha hadn’t experienced with another human in some time.

She watched him drizzle lemon on the salmon and return it to the oven, then move to puree the tomato to top off the rice. She thought of all the evenings she grabbed a quick cheese sandwich before heading to her office to work, leaving her lovely kitchen to waste away in neglect. How long had cooking and eating been mere uninteresting chores to her?

Smelling the onion-rich steam from the rice and the garlicky aroma of the salmon, Natasha’s stomach growled and she was ready to ask him to never leave. Instead, she sipped her wine and some wicked part of her brain contemplated just how beautiful a young male butt could be.

Food might be the way to a man’s heart but for her, it was a way to some other very interesting organs, as well.