#Christmasreads – Christmas is Cancelled – by @AureliaBRowl #mustread @ukcarina

I absolutely love a good Christmas read and this one by the gorgeous Aurelia B. Rowl is one to look out for:

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Carina (Harlequin UK)
Release date: 1st December 2014
ISBN: 978-1-474-00844-0

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It’s impossible to forget…

Matilda ‘Tilly’ Carter has had the week from hell – and now, with all trains cancelled, it looks like Christmas will be too! With a mascara-streaked face, a broken heel and nowhere to go, there’s never been a worse time to run into the man who once broke her heart. Especially when he looks better than ever.

The one that got away…

For Dean, Christmas has always been hard. The Tilly standing before him is no longer the firecracker of his memories—even if the way she makes his heart race hasn’t changed at all. He is determined to uphold the promise that kept them apart nine years ago. But spending a cosy Christmas with Tilly would break a better man and each accidental touch, heated look and stolen kiss is taking its toll on Dean.

After all this time, can the magic of Christmas bring Tilly and Dean together at last?



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#coverreveal – Mistletoe Menage – by Molly Ann Wishlade @evernightpub

MistletoeMénage-evernightpublishing2-3DrenderSo earlier today I revealed my cover for Mistletoe Menage, my Rubenesque Regency Romance, which is coming soon with Evernight Publishing. Now I thought I’d treat you to a short excerpt. Enjoy! xxx

Teaser Excerpt – Mistletoe Ménage – by Molly Ann Wishlade

“Where have you been?” Edward snapped as he sprang to his feet.
Guy laid his hat and jacket on the chair on top of Edward’s then offered a conciliatory smile. “I have begun to seduce her, as you wished.”
Edward stared at the younger man. His face was flushed and beautiful with youth and happiness, and his eyes sparkled silver-blue like the snow under the crisp winter sun. He reached out and caressed Guy’s cheek, rasping his thumbnail against the stubble on Guy’s skin.
“How was she?”
Guy glanced at his feet and cleared his throat.
“Guy?” Edward’s heart pounded hard beneath his white cotton shirt as an idea began to unfurl in his mind. “Guy?”
The artist met his gaze and smiled. “She is…as you described. Beautiful, cultured, well-mannered. Though she was also…”
“Tell me!” Edward was surprised at his own tone. He had sent Guy out to Anne, knowing she was a widow now. She had been widowed eighteen months, in fact, but he’d been abroad when her husband had passed, and only returned six months since with Guy in his employ. As a widow, previously married to a much older man, Edward hoped she would now be ripe for the picking. All his memories of Anne were of a tender, voluptuous, sensual woman ready for marriage and mating. He had held back from taking her during their courtship in spite of his burning desire to make her his as soon as possible. He had been prepared to wait until they were safely wed before he bedded her, but then she had given herself to another. A fat, greasy businessman who was surely no match for her elegance and beauty. Yes, it was true that she had no family name to match his own, but he had not cared a jot for that. After seeing his parents’ loveless marriage, Edward had harbored no intentions of marrying for money and social connections. Perhaps he had been a romantic, a dreamer, a fool. Yes…he had been a fool because he had believed that she loved him as much as he loved her. She had broken his heart in two.
As he would hers. With Guy’s assistance.
“I went to her home as agreed, Edward. It didn’t take much to encourage her to allow me to sketch her.” Guy didn’t finish his sentence but Edward knew what he meant. Anne had allowed the artist to see her naked, in all her milky-white-skinned beauty as he had longed to do. Well, he would see her thus. And soon. But it might take one or two more visits from Guy first.
“But you did not…”
Guy shook his head. “No I did not take her fully. I kissed her and caressed her and tasted her. She really has the sweetest flavor, like honey-cake and madeira wine.” Guy licked his lips and Edward pulled him into his arms and kissed him hard. He pressed his tongue between Guy’s teeth and plundered the younger man’s mouth, desperate to find some trace of Anne. Guy responded to him, running his hands down over Edward’s behind, and squeezing his firm cheeks until Edward knew that they’d continue this until they were both spent.
Edward pulled away and stared into Guy’s eyes. “Will she surrender? Do you really believe she will?”
Something flashed across Guy’s face and Edward wondered at it for a moment. Was it guilt? Regret?
“I believe that she will, Edward. I truly believe that. She is lonely and needy. I don’t think she has been loved as a woman should. She is not like the others.” His golden eyebrows met above his aquiline nose as he frowned. “They are grasping, clawing, and it’s all about them. But Anne Blackburn, she responded so sweetly and so tenderly that it was hard to leave her. The others I could not wait to escape from once I had attended to their needs but with Anne…”
Edward swallowed hard. He could see in Guy that same affection growing for Anne that he had once felt. Was it because Guy was his lover and they were in some way similar in their tastes? Guy did not usually lust after women. He had lain with women of the ton for Edward’s sake so that his plan would work, but when they took a woman together it was Edward who desired the female presence most. Guy just seemed to go through the experience to please his patron. So Edward was surprised that Guy actually seemed to be attracted to Anne. Yet he should not be, because she truly was beautiful in an innocent yet worldly way. She was a walking oxymoron of naïve experience and virtuous passion—a spring waiting to be tapped like the one in Bath which offered restorative properties and improved health to those who drank from it. Would Edward’s mind and body improve under Anne’s tender ministrations? Lord knew that he had not been right since he lost her. He had never again experienced that same joy and hope that she had given him during their brief courtship. And though he knew that he wanted to hurt her, he also knew that a life without her in it would be a dull life indeed. But crush her he would to avenge himself for the way she had torn his heart and life to shreds.
“Undress, Guy.” Edward pulled off his own clothes and watched as his lover did the same. When they were both naked, Edward pulled Guy to him and kissed him again, this time more tenderly than before. Guy ground his hips into Edward so that their erections met and their mutual arousal intensified.
Edward reached around his lover and slipped his finger between the artist’s tight buttocks, sliding it into the tight heat that he longed to penetrate with his cock. Guy gasped against Edward’s mouth. “Let me suck you first.”
“Yes.” Edward allowed Guy to lower him to the bed, then he surrendered to the hot mouth and tongue of his lover, his pleasure all the sweeter because he knew that the very same lips had so recently caressed the woman he loved.
(c) Molly Ann Wishlade 2014


#blogtour – Driving Home For Christmas – by A.L. Michael

Andi’s Blog Tour for Driving Home for Christmas!

IMG_3794Blurb:Megan McAllister is home for Christmas…whether she likes it or not!
Christmas is about family…and for Megan family means two people: herself, and her daughter Skye. It doesn’t mean her parents who, ten years ago, saw her pregnancy as anything but a miracle. And it definitely doesn’t include her irresistible ex-boyfriend Lucas Bright.
So ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ has never been top of Megan’s festive playlist. But for Skye, she knows she needs to spend the holiday season with the people she’s left behind. She can do this. Even if the thought of meeting Lucas under the mistletoe still has her feeling like she’s drunk one-too-many Snowballs!
But somewhere between the hanging of stockings and the crackle of wrapping paper, Christmas starts to sparkle. And Megan begins to wonder if family could be bigger than her and Skye after all…Pop the buck’s fizz, stoke the fire and prepare to giggle the festive season away with AL Michael!



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Creating Brand New Christmas Traditions

When you’re writing a Christmas novel, the temptation is to put in what you do with your family. For the most part, those are the only Christmas traditions you’ve ever known.
That’s why I loved the idea of including a variety of different traditions in the households in Driving Home for Christmas.

Anna’s Festive Sangria

There’s a fair amount of boozing in Anna’s house, but always with the utmost class, darling. In the run up to Christmas, there would always be some hot sangria bubbling away on the stove. A fruity take on mulled wine, but Anna never does anything normal. Must always be served in a posh teacup, because doing what people think is ‘a bit boring’.

Minnie the Dog

The McAllister’s ageing pooch always got her own stocking, filled with homemade doggy treats. She’s getting on a bit now, but the sight on her sitting in front of the fire, paws crossed over a massive bone to chew on, is a standard each Christmas.

Champagne on Christmas Morning

Another Anna tradition, of course. When Anna took Megan and Skye in, she decided it was time to celebrate again. A few glasses of Bucks Fizz early in the morning (and orange with sparkling water for Skye) whilst staring at their lovely Christmas tree and listening to a few carols before the caterers arrived to set everything up.

Lucas’ Christmas Stocking

Lucas’ Christmases weren’t usually the most fun. When his dad was around they were full of fake merriment, his mother looking glassy eyed and hopeful at his return. He’d turn up with toys that were more appropriate for babies than children, and shrug when they just looked at them. Then he’d end up passed out after too much whisky. The years without his Dad were better, but by then his mum was busy trying to make sure she found someone special to share the holidays with, sure that her babies would be grown up and gone off soon. So Lucas took responsibility for Claire, his younger sister, making sure she always had a stocking from Santa, that it always appeared mysteriously in the night, with the cheap toys he could afford wrapped badly. Even though she’s away travelling this Christmas, he posts her a stocking full of rubbish gifts, just to say he misses her.

The McAllisters at the Fayre

The village Christmas Fayre is the highlight of the season, and the Hook a Duck has become a point of contention, between father and son. Each year they compete to see who can hook the most. Back then the loser bought hot chocolates. These days, it’s a pint in the local. Megan and Lucas used to perform at the Fayre each year, and every time he does now, he still thinks of her.

You are invited to the wedding of the year… @jaxandwillsmum @ukcarina

ChristmasWeddingInvite copy

Christmas Wedding at the Gingerbread Café
Released today!

You are invited to the wedding of the year!
Snow is falling thick and fast outside the Gingerbread Café and, inside, its owner Lily is planning the wedding of the year. Her wedding! She never dreamt it would happen, but this Christmas she’ll be marrying the man of her dreams — in a Christmas-card-perfect ceremony!
The gingerbread is baking, the dress is fitted and the mistletoe’s in place — for once, everything’s going to plan. That is until her mother-in-law arrives… Suddenly, Lily’s famous cool is being tested like never before and her dream wedding is crumbling before her eyes.
In the blink of a fairy light, the Gingerbread Café has been thrown into chaos! Lily thought she had this wedding wrapped up, but with so much to do before she says ‘I do’, can Lily get to the church on time — and make this Christmas sparkle after all?

Christmas Wedding at the Gingerbread Cafe

Excerpt – Chapter One – Ten days

The fluffy white meringue hypnotizes me as it swirls around the mixer into soft valleys and peaks. A chocolate cake cools on the stainless-steel bench ready for me to layer with meringue, which will look like fresh snow for the cheery-faced fondant reindeers to graze in. High-pitched voices interrupt my reverie, and I turn to see the small children of Ashford making their way along the icy street, caroling.
It’s almost nightfall; through the tinseled window and flashing fairy lights I watch them sing, their faces lit up with the excitement of Christmas. I switch off the mixer, and dust my hands on my apron. Edging closer to the door, I listen to them pitch and warble. I sing along, enraptured by the catchy festive songs.
A couple of young stragglers pull away from the crowd of carolers, and race to the window of the Gingerbread Café. They push their tiny red noses against the glass; their breath fogs up the view. I duck my head around the door. “See those marshmallow snowmen? CeeCee made them especially, so when you’re finished caroling you can take as many as you want. Tell your friends too.” Their eyes go wide, as they squeal and dash back to the group, gesticulating wildly back to the sweet treats on display.
Smiling at their exuberance, I glance back to the window, and see why they’re so animated. At their age and height it must look like a monolithic ode to gingerbread. CeeCee insisted we make our own Christmas tree this year…out of gingerbread. It took us the better part of three weeks to work out how exactly to bake the pieces so they’d fit together to form branches. There were plenty of mistakes made, which were hastily eaten up by our regular customers.
We felt like the most accomplished engineers when it was finally erected and we’d decorated it with golden candy floss ‘tinsel’, and ‘baubles’ made from scarlet toffee. The ‘ground’ is made from marshmallow, and the Christmas presents made from chocolate dusted with edible glitter sit afoot the tree. All the late nights baking seem like nothing when a crowd of children stop and ogle it as if it’s something magical. I can’t wait for Damon’s daughter, Charlie, to see it. For a moment I picture her, with her beautiful blond curls, following the kids along the street, singing. I miss her when she’s gone, almost as if she’s my own child.
The doorbell jingles, catching me mid-chorus. I turn, half expecting the tiny revelers to rush in. “Oh, golly, that’s the voice I love,” Damon teases. His hands snake behind my jacket and he rubs the warmth of my back. “Operatic, and dramatic.”
“Very funny.” I grin. “I would have tried a bit harder if I knew I had an audience.” So, my singing leaves a lot to be desired. I blame my mamma — she’s sings as if she’s being strangled and unfortunately I inherited that gene.
“And I get to wake up to the sound of that voice every day until…for ever.”
Gazing up at him, my mouth hanging open like a love-struck fool, I say, “Ten days until I’m Mrs. Guthrie. Ten days until I swan down that aisle. I’m tingly with excitement even if I do have to wear gloop on my face, and be tortured with hair devices to make my curly hair…curly.”
He laughs so hard little dimples appear on his cheeks. “I’m tingly too, in more ways than one.” He half groans as he leans down and kisses me full on the mouth. I close my eyes as my whole-body throb reaches swoon level. This fine-thing sure knows how to kiss a girl, all right.
Slightly breathless, we pull apart, silent for a moment until the blood rushes back to wherever the hell it’s supposed to be. We stare hard at each other, but I don’t dare kiss him again. We’re likely to close up shop and jump into bed for the evening. As tempting as that is, I have cakes to bake.
I have cakes to bake.
Damon runs his hands through his hair. “Let’s just close…”
Jelly-legged from his presence, I fight to stay strong. “Nope.”
He hooks his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and pulls me against him. I step back, but he pulls me close again in an effort to convince me. “Lil…”
His lips part slowly, and my restraint almost crumbles. Cakes, think of the cakes.
He moans low. “You’re a temptress…”
I laugh. “It’s a hard life.”
“Very hard,” he agrees, winking. He makes a show of exhaling, and shakes away the desire that is plain on his face. Composed, he says, “Let’s stop canoodling in the doorway before we end up in some compromising photos on CeeCee’s Spacebook.”
I imagine a picture of us wrapped together squid-like, flushed, for the world to see on Facebook. I giggle and drag Damon close to the fireplace when my friend Missy ducks her head in and says, “Hello, lovebirds! You’re looking mighty sweet all tangled like that.”
“Come out of the cold, Missy.” I wave her over to the fire. She struts in. Despite being heavily pregnant, she still manages to saunter rather than waddle.
Missy, who owns The Sassy Salon, has all these grand plans for my wedding hair and make-up, and, while it’s not usually my thing, it’s hard not to get caught up in her excitement. She is an expert, after all.
I rub her belly before giving her a hug. As always she smells sweet with perfume and hair products, her heavily made-up face perfection as she fluffs her big auburn curls. “I don’t intend to interrupt you two from whatever it is you were doing…” she arches an eyebrow, and grins “…but I wanted to give you these, Lil.” She hands me a brown paper bag. “Some make-up samples, colorstay, so no matter how much toying you do to your pretty little face, it should stay put.”
I go to protest, but she shakes a finger. “Before you start shaking your head, hear me out. You need to decide what colors you like…so just try it, OK? I know make-up is not your thing, but you’ll get used to it if you try it out a few times before the wedding.”
Damon lets out a huge belly laugh. I pivot, hands on hips, and give him a fake pout, he stops immediately and claps a hand over his mouth. “You think this is funny?” I tease; ruing the fact that at almost thirty years of age I still don’t understand the basics of applying make-up. I’ve tried, but it feels so unnatural, as if I’ve cemented my face, that I can’t help but mess with it, as a child would.
“No, no!” Damon holds his palms up, stifling a laugh. “Definitely not funny.” I give him a shove with my hip and turn back to Missy.
“I just hope I’m not going to look like a Dolly Parton impersonator.”
Missy rolls her eyes heavenward. “There’s nothing wrong with Dolly Parton, Lil. That woman knows what real beauty is.”
I guffaw.
“She’s my people and I won’t hear a bad word about her!” Missy laughs. I grin back. Missy dresses similar to Dolly Parton, all tight miniskirts, bold prints, the odd sequin or two. She’s vibrant and sassy and has a heart of pure gold.
“OK, no more Dolly jokes. So are there instructions with this stuff?” Doubt creeps in as I survey the bag full of colorful vials and tubes used for God knows what. Missy knows I’m erring on the side of natural rather than full-on war paint, but so far all I see are pinks and reds so bright they make my eyes hurt.
Missy scoffs. “No, there aren’t instructions! At least try the lipsticks and see which shade you prefer. We can sort the rest at the make-up trial, OK?”
“I better go and close up shop or else Tommy’ll think I’ve run off with another man.”
Laughter barrels out of us at the thought of a heavily pregnant woman running anywhere, least of all off with another man. “See you tomorrow, and thanks.” I hold up the bag. Missy air kisses us both and struts away. From behind you can’t even tell she’s pregnant — all the gingerbread men and slices of pie she’s consumed have obviously gone straight to the baby.
“Only ten more days…” Damon’s voice brings me back to the present as he kisses the top of my head.
Ten more days marks our one-year anniversary, and our wedding day.
I wasn’t searching for love a year ago, far from it, when it fell in my lap — or rather my café — in the form of this tight-jean-wearing, curly-haired, six-packed, glorious man. Some days it still doesn’t feel real, that this kind of passionate, all-consuming love could just happen, in the blink of an eye, but thank my lucky stars, it did.
Nipping my fingers into Damon’s back pockets, I pull his hips close. “Look at them…”
Ashford’s mini carolers huddle together as they wait to cross the road. They’re bundled up in woolen scarves and beanies, their mittened hands holding candles. They chorus Amazing Grace, and I stiffen in Damon’s arms. Oh, no. I bite the inside of my cheek. I wiggle my toes. Isn’t that what people do to stem their tears? It’s too late. My eyes well up; it’s no use. That song kills me. It’s the very heart of Christmas and it speaks to me like nothing else.
“Lil?” Damon says. “You OK?”
I half laugh, half hiccough. “It’s that darn song. It’s even more of a tear-jerker when six-year-olds are singing it.” My voice comes out a little strangled as I try to laugh it off.
“How could I forget?” he says wistfully. “The Amazing Grace blubber-fest exactly one year ago today.”
I cock my head. “Wait…what? You saw that?” This time last year I had my hand wedged well and truly up a turkey’s behind, stuffing the damn poultry to sell in the café as I sang my little heart out to Amazing Grace, laughing-shrieking-sobbing with the sadness of one whose life wasn’t going as planned. And that very same day, I met Damon.
Damon smacks his forehead. “Whoops. So I may have been spying on you long before you marched across the road to shout at me for stealing your customers.”
The memory makes me smile. I’d been all riled up when this handsome newcomer strode into town selling the same things as my beloved Gingerbread Café. It hadn’t helped matters he was gorgeous and instantly had a shop full of ladies, single or not, flicking their shiny hair, and strutting about, trying to make his acquaintance.
“You were spying on me?” I ask, mock seriously.
He puts a hand to his chest and does his best to keep his face straight, but his lip wobbles as he gulps back laughter. “I fell in love with you that very second. I thought, if a girl can stuff a turkey, simultaneously cry, and laugh, and sing like it’s the only thing that’ll save her, then she’s the one for me.” He presses a fist to his mouth, no doubt reliving the scene in all its sob-fest glory.
I laugh and blush to the roots of my hair. I really did make a spectacle of myself that long-ago wintry morning in the café. I had no idea anyone could see me in such a vulnerable state. “I’m surprised —” I hit him playfully on the arm “— that you’ve never mentioned this before.”
He raises his eyebrows. The deep brown of his eyes is so easy to get lost in, I forget for a moment what we’re even discussing. “You were upset, and I didn’t want you to know I’d seen. I only wanted to make you smile. Little did I know that you’d take offence to my mere presence in town, and that it would become a bit harder than I’d first thought.”
Thinking back to that day, I’m caught up in a rush of mixed feelings. Back then, I was pining for my ex-husband Joel, too naïve to know he was no good, not realizing it was just the idea of love I missed — and not actually him. And that very day, I’d vowed to run Damon out of town because I’d seen him as a threat to my business, and without the café I would have been lost and broke. That version of me, sad and lonely, seems like a lifetime ago.
Shaking my head, I marvel — what a difference a year makes. It hadn’t taken long for me to fall in love with Damon; he truly was a Christmas miracle. And now, we’re about to get married! I resist the urge to pinch myself.
When a man turns every notion you had of love upside down, and shows you what a genuine heart he has, it’s almost impossible not to well up, and again it makes me wonder why I let my ex-husband treat me callously for so long. Silently, I thank the universe he’s out of my life for good, and instead focus on the wonderful man in front of me.
And next year, I vow, I’ll only listen to Amazing Grace when I’m alone, and can bawl for the full five minutes and afterwards will feel strangely refreshed, and altogether festive.
“Where’s CeeCee?” Damon asks, glancing around the café.
Frowning, I push a tendril of hair back. “She dashed out to get some Christmas presents for her grandbabies.” I glance at my watch and shrug. “But that was a while ago. She’s probably bumped into someone.”
You can never really dash anywhere in Ashford. Everyone knows everyone — you can’t get down the main street without stopping to chat to people. Even the inclement weather doesn’t deter the locals from stopping to shoot the breeze.
Outside snow drifts down like white confetti, pitching in the wind, and settling on the square window panes. The sight makes me want to curl up and watch the world go by. With that in mind, I push Damon towards one of the old sofas in front of the fireplace, and sit with my legs over his lap. He’s impossible to resist and the cakes can wait, for five minutes, at least. The fire is stoked up, and crackles and spits as if it’s saying hello. Damon groans. “I’m beat. You don’t realize till you stop for a minute.” He covers his mouth as he yawns, which immediately makes me yawn.
“How’d today go?” I ask. Damon owns a small goods shop across the road, and hosts cooking demonstrations as well as sorting out the finer details of our catering business. No matter what you do, money is tight for shopkeepers in Ashford purely because it’s such a small town. Though the lead-up to Christmas is frantic for us all.
“Busy. I must have made a hundred cups of coffee…”
I smirk. Damon’s fancy coffee tastes like tar to me, but women still flock there, and grimace their way through a cup. He’s totally clueless they’re ogling him as he dashes behind the counter, while they stare, mouths hanging open. I don’t blame them. I’d spend my morning at his coffee bar and stare too if I could.

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Find Rebecca here:




untitled (4)Rebecca Raisin is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. She’s been widely published in various short-story anthologies, and in fiction magazines, and is now focusing on writing romance. The only downfall about writing about gorgeous men who have brains as well as brawn is falling in love with them — just as well they’re fictional. Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and, most importantly, believe in true, once-in-a-lifetime love.

#coverreveal – This Christmas – by Katlyn Duncan @ukcarina

This Christmas: A Novella by Katlyn Duncan
Release date: November 18, 2014 from Carina UK
Genre: New Adult Contemporary

This Christmas pic Summary:

This year, if Hadley wrote her dream Christmas list, it would go something like this:

1. Spend every waking – and sleeping – moment with her incredibly gorgeous boyfriend, Will.

2. Figure out what’s been bugging him lately. Yes, going away to college has been tough…but it’s time they reconnected.

3. Enjoy a sparkling Christmas in New York City, gazing at the Rockefeller tree, going ice skating, and drinking steaming mugs of cocoa in Central Park.

So, driving off to spend Christmas in a rustic cabin in the woods wasn’t exactly the plan. But when it comes to her irresistible, and at times, impossible boyfriend, nothing’s ever that simple. And as fantasies of an icy Times Square are replaced by a clumsily decorated tree, making snowmen and the warmth of a log fire, Hadley feels herself falling in love all over again.

Except does Will have something to tell her that could change Hadley’s happily-ever-after Christmas dreams into a not-so-winter wonderland after all?
Don’t miss this festive sequel novella to This Summer

About the Author
KatlynKatlyn Duncan was born and raised in a small town in western Massachusetts. Her overactive imagination involved invisible friends, wanting to be a Disney Princess and making up her own stories. Her bibliophile mom always encouraged her love of reading and that stayed with her since. Even though she works full time in the medical field Katlyn has always made time for books, whether she is reading or writing them.
Katlyn now lives in southern Connecticut with her husband and adorable Wheaten Terrier and she is thrilled to finally share her stories with the world.

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iBooks UK

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News of the festive kind…



It may be September but many authors and publishing houses already have their Christmas books lined up for you! Christmas 2014 is going to be a fabulous one for readers. 🙂

If all goes to plan, I will have a Christmas release of my own. It’s a full length regency romance novel. Release dates, title and cover tbc but knowing that my festive flirt will be coming soon is very exciting!

What books are you looking forward to reading as winter approaches?

Have a great weekend folks.

Molly xxx

Lounge tree

Lounge tree