by Amanda Rose
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE Elise
CHAPTER TWO Elise
CHAPTER THREE Elise
CHAPTER FOUR Elise
CHAPTER FIVE Elise
CHAPTER SIX Elise
CHAPTER SEVEN Ezra
CHAPTER EIGHT Elise
CHAPTER NINE Elise
CHAPTER TEN Flynn
CHAPTER ELEVEN Elise
CHAPTER TWELVE Elise
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Max
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Elise
EPILOGUE Elise
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE “Thank you, Santa!”
CHAPTER TWO “Sexy Dancing”
CHAPTER THREE “It Won’t Be Pretty”
CHAPTER FOUR “Stripper Material”
CHAPTER FIVE “A Quick Taste”
CHAPTER SIX “Soft Reinforcement”
CHAPTER SEVEN “Whoa, now!”
CHAPTER EIGHT “Finish What You Start”
CHAPTER NINE “Shaq”
CHAPTER TEN “Too much?”
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE Erect my tree.
CHAPTER TWO Stuff my mailslot.
CHAPTER THREE Bite my pretzel.
CHAPTER FOUR Fondle my mugs.
CHAPTER FIVE Admire my elf.
CHAPTER SIX Twirl my spaghetti.
CHAPTER SEVEN Smell my rose.
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chapter One
Prologue
Chapter One
A steamy contemporary romance/reverse harem winter collection from seventeen different authors.
Snow and Seduction
This collection is compiled with arrangemet by the authors.
Blizzards and Bastards © 2017 C.M. Stunich
Slopes of Sin © 2017 Katrina Fischer
Frosted By my Billionaires ©2017 Amanda Rose Carroll
Snowflake ©2017 Cece Rose
Triple Kisses © 2017 G. Bailey
Visionary Christmas ©2017 Whitney Wilson
Study Break © 2017Brittany Raunch
Sugar Plum Fantasies© 2017 Christina Bridges
Thief of Hearts©2017 Ripley Proserpina
Avalanche of Desire ©2017 Kelly Stock
Their Little Helper ©2017 Shana Nicole Riley
The More The Merrier© 2017 Kadee Ladnier
Streets of Winter © 2017 Skye Mackinnon
Mary F*cking Christmas ©2017 Arizona Tape
Sweet About Me ©2017 Laura Greenwood
A Long Winter's Rest ©2017 Tracy Dawn Morgan
Holly's Jolly Christmas©2017 Rhea French
For information regaurding an individual work withing this collection please contact the author.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478. For information regaurding individual stories contact the author directly.
Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.
Welcome Note
Thank you, dear reader, for picking up this anthology. Inside, you will find seventeen different takes on holiday/winter themed contemporary romance—reverse harem style. Each story is a stand-alone and can be read separately from the others, so feel free to hop around! But don't forget to give each story a chance—you never know when you might discover your next favorite author!
Happy r
eading!
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Front Matter Title Page
Copyright
Introduction From the Editor
Blizards and Bastards Cover
Blizards and Bastards Description
Blizards and Bastards Dedication
Blizards and Bastards Chapter 1
Follow C.M. Stunch
Slopes of Sin Cover
Slopes of Sin Description
Slopes of Sin Dedication
Slopes of Sin Chapter 1
Follow Tate James
Frosted By My Billionaires Cover
Frosted By My Billionaires Description
Frosted By My Billionaires Dedication
Frosted By My Billionaires Chapter 1
Follow Amanda Rose
Snoflake Cover
Snoflake Description
Snoflake Dedication
Snowflake Chapter 1
Snowflake Epilogue
Follow Cece Rose
Triple Kisses Cover
Triple Kisses Description
Triple Kisses Dedication
Triple Kisses Chapter 1
Follow G. Bailey
Visionary Christmas Cover
Visionary Christmas Description
Visionary Christmas Dedication
Visionary Christmas Chapter 1
Follow Yumoyori Wilson
Study Break Cover
Study Break Description
Study Break Dedication
Study Break Chapter 1
Follow Lucy Smoke
Sugar Plum Fantasies Cover
Sugar Plum Fantasies Description
Sugar Plum Fantasies Dedication
Sugar Plum Fantasies Chapter 1
Follow CB Morrigan
The Thief of Hearts Cover
The Thief of Hearts Description
The Thief of Hearts Dedication
The Thief of Hearts Chapter 1
Follow Ripley Proserpina
Avalanche of Desire Cover
Avalanche of Desire Description
Avalanche of Desire Dedication
Avalanche of Desire Chapter 1
Follow Bea Paige
Their Little Helper Cover
Their Little Helper Description
Their Little Helper Dedication
Their Little Helper Chapter 1
Follow N.R. Spratlin
The More the Merrier Cover
The More the Merrier Description
The More the Merrier Dedication
The More the Merrier Chapter 1
Follow K.B. Ladnier
Streets of Winter Cover
Streets of Winter Description
Streets of Winter Dedication
Streets of Winter Chapter 1
Follow Skye Mackinnon
Mary F*cking Christmas Cover
Mary F*cking Christmas Description
Mary F*cking Christmas Chapter 1
Follow Arizona Tape
Sweet About Me Cover
Sweet About Me Description
Sweet About Me Dedication
Sweet About Me Prologue
Sweet About Me Chapter 1
Follow Laura Greenwood
A Long Winter's Rest Cover
A Long Winter's Rest Description
A Long Winter's Rest Dedication
A Long Winter's Rest Chapter 1
Holly's Jolly Christmas Cover
Holly's Jolly Christmas Description
Holly's Jolly Christmas Dedication
Holly's Jolly Christmas Chapter 1
Follow Raya Love
A Thank You from the Editor
I was Born Ruined Cover
The Vixen's Lead Cover
Voodoo Knights Cover
Now or Never Cover
Visionary Investigator Cover
Strip For Me Cover
Elements of Mischief Cover
Elements of Mischief Excerpt
Marked by Power Cover
Marked by Power Excerpt
Description
"These inked up bastards are gonna rock my beat for Christmas."
A broken down car, a busted toilet, and a bunch of rocker boys.
That's how I started my happily ever after.
Christmas break. A cross-country move after the loss of my bookstore.
Remote Minnesota in the middle of a snowstorm.
Add in an out of order ladies room, a busted transmission, and a lost tour bus and you get the picture.
Pop rock group, Inked Pages, has just rescued my nearly frozen butt from a rest stop.
Their plan? Drop me off with my psychotic family in the suburbs and continue onto their holiday concert in Saint Paul.
But the blizzard, it has other ideas.
Seven days trapped in suburbia.
They say that people fall in love faster during crises.
Being snowed in with my family must count as one because guess what?
I'm in love with four drop-dead sexy pop stars.
The thing is, what happens when the storm clears and the holidays are over?
this book is dedicated to my family, the ones connected by blood and those I've found through friendship
thank you for making my holidays magical with your warmth, laughter, and inappropriate sexual jokes.
CHAPTER ONE
My butt is stuck to a toilet seat.
No kidding. It's quite literally frozen to the porcelain bowl beneath me, the one I had to sit on bare cheeked because there's very little toilet paper and absolutely no seat covers left.
“I hate my life,” I groan as I try to force myself to pee in the freezing cold restroom—the freezing cold men's restroom. Much to my chagrin, when I pulled my little Kia Forte into the icy lot and did the full bladder dance up to the women's restroom, I was greeted with a crudely scrawled Toilets Don't Work sign … only the one I saw was spelled like this: Toilets Dont Werk.Seriously, no joke.
Sprinting over to the opposite side of the squat brown building, I threw myself into the one and only stall in the men's room and plopped right down on the icy white porcelain. Now, that's a choice I'm coming to regret.
“Come on, come on,” I whisper rubbing my mittened hands together and watching my breath frost in the air. I still have about a three hour drive to get to my parents' house, and I am not leaving this spot without peeing first. I adjust the beanie on my head, brunette tendrils springing out in random directions as I finally relax enough to let nature take its course.
Obviously, my day isn't shitty enough for the cruel forces of the universe because as the sound of, um, running water fills the bathroom, the raucous noise of several laughing voices enters with a fresh rush of snow and a blast of frigid air.
“It was that fucking assistant of yours that clogged the toilet,” one of the men is saying, black ankle boots squeaking along the dirty floor and pausing in front of the stall. Not knowing why I care, I lift my legs up and try to hide my feet. I'm exactly ashamed to be in the men's room, but for some reason sitting with my butt frozen to a toilet seat while a bunch of strangers mill around doesn't much appeal to me.
“It wasn't my assistant, Frost—it was you,” another voice replies, and then two distinct laughs begin to echo around the room. Meanwhile, the man with the boots tries my stall door, jiggling it a few times, and then leaning down to peek underneath. Thankfully, he doesn't bend down far enough to see me—just enough to note the fact that there're no feet present.
“Nobody in here,” he says, and I can hear his clothes rustling as he stands back up. “Maybe this one's out of order like the other side?”
“Just piss in the urinals and let's get out of here,” another voice says, and then I hear the sound of several zippers coming down.
My plan is wait these guys out, whoever they are, and get on my way. I still have three hours of driving to get to my parents' place in Detroit Lakes and no time to hang out with strange men in desert
ed public restrooms.
I swear, it takes these guys a year and a day to piss. So long, in fact, that my phone ends up going off, the embarrassingly sweet sounds of the band Inked Page's new Christmas song, A Gift of Starlight, echoing around the small tiled room.
“Fuck, we got a stalker,” one of them says, and another sighs.
Meanwhile, I'm straining to peel my ass off the ice-cold toilet seat so I can lean forward and snatch my purse, digging frantically around inside for an old napkin or a leftover lipstick stained tissue to supplement the one-ply sheet of TP that's left. Why is there no fucking toilet paper in this damn stall?!
“Alright, come on out of there,” one of the men says as I yank a crumbled McDonald's receipt from the chaos strewn hellhole that is my purse, wiping frantically and flushing before I stand up and just barely manage to get my pants undone before a man's face appears below the stall door.
“Hey,” he says, climbing under and rising to his full height in front of me. Which, of course, is a very impressive six foot something or other. I stand there, five foot three and tiny as hell, dressed in over-the-top designer Christmas wear that does not seem to impress Aspen Carver.
I know who this man is because I guiltily play his band's music on repeat in my car … my apartment … at work on my headphones … basically all the damn time.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp and then, managing to pull myself together, throw on the most indignant face I can muster. A rare feat considering I'm looking up at the hottest pop rocker since, well, ever. “When is it ever okay to just crawl under a bathroom stall? I was peeing in here.”
The man looks at me from sapphire eyes, two brilliant circles of blue with a ring of hazel-gold just around his pupil, making his gaze that much more intense in person than it is when I'm scrolling through shirtless photos of him on my phone.
“It's rude. And not just rude, but creepy, too.”
“What?” he asks, looking perplexed as hell, but also sexy as fuck, too.
My phone goes off again, lyrics swirling like snow around us as I scramble to find it in my purse and shut it off. I accidentally bump the screen and answer it instead, just after Aspen's golden goose of a voice croons out from the cell's speaker, “When the stars come out at night, I see you in their light, and although you're no longer here, I feel your spirit close at heart.”
“Mom,” I say with a ridiculous amount of false holiday cheer, “I was just about to call you.”
“I just wanted to tell you that your cousins stopped in, so we have an extra full house through the end of the year. You like sweet potatoes, don't you? I can't remember. If you do, would you let me know, so I can have the caterer prepare a few extra trays of appetizers? I know how you like to eat.” I purse my lips as she continues talking, Aspen's confused stare still focused on my face. “There's a big blizzard coming in and all the news reports say it's best to stock up for a weeklong apocalypse.” She sigh dramatically and cuts me off when I try to talk. Aspen just crosses his arms over his long-sleeved black shirt and leans back against the wall of the stall, watching me with those beautiful baby blues of his. “Of course, I already called into the office and had my secretary start prepping for some work-from-home hours. I'm having her schedule all my clients for Skype meetings instead of—”