“Then you’ll fit in perfectly with the rest of Clan Marron,” said Ethan. “They aren’t snooty or snotty. You’re going to be fine. Carol, you’ve always been a princess — you just didn’t have the fancy dresses and shoes before. What matters is your inner beauty, although of course, your outer beauty doesn’t hurt matters.”
“And this outfit’s okay?” asked Carol, motioning down to her plain blue jeans that had room for a Thanksgiving belly, her festive turkey sweater, and her worn sneakers that she always wore while cooking.
“I wouldn’t wear anything to Clan Marron Thanksgiving that you aren’t prepared on having ruined,” said Ethan. “There’s going to be kids who don’t quite know how to eat chili without splattering it on everyone. There’s going to be cranberry sauce dripping out of bowls. Once, in my younger days, an absolute food fight broke out.”
“Don’t tell me,” said Carol. “You were the one who started it?”
“You caught me,” said Ethan. “That’s why I’m just wearing this shirt and these old pants. I’m not there to make appearances. I’m there to have a fun time…and to introduce my awesome fated mate, and future wife, to every single member of Clan Marron. By the way…if anyone’s a Cinderella in this story, it’s me.”
“How the heck is it you?” asked Carol.
“Well, you taught me that love’s more precious than money,” said Ethan. “I’m the one who got the riches in the end.”
“You’re such a corn dog,” said Carol with a laugh. “I think that means we’re both Cinderella.”
Ethan pulled into the Clan Marron parking lot and spotted the first person he wanted to introduce to Carol.
“Come on,” said Ethan, before getting out of the car. “I want to introduce you to someone special.”
Ethan went around to the other side of the car to let Carol out. Carol followed Ethan as he walked toward a woman in the parking lot.
“This is my first time seeing you without a kid in your arm in how long?” asked Ethan. “Emily, I’d like to introduce you to Carol. Carol, meet Emily.”
“Carol, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Emily. “Are you the one I have to thank for teaching Ethan that the true meaning of Christmas is charity, and not being a stingy Scrooge?”
“That’s me,” said Carol. “Are you the one who kicked Ethan’s butt up North for me to tame?
“That’s me,” said Emily. “I have a feeling we’ll be fast friends.”
“Ethan tells me you have quadruplets,” said Carol.
“They’re inside,” said Emily. “We recruited a bunch of teens from the Clan and have them on babysitting duty.”
“You think they’ll want a business lesson?” asked Ethan. “I’m kidding. I know the rules. No shop talk during get-togethers.”
“Well, speaking of business, you and I do have some business to attend to,” said Emily. “The council needs you.”
“For what?” asked Carol.
“Let’s just say Ethan’s not the only bad boy in Clan Marron that’s needed to go up North and have his ass kicked in all four directions by Santana Claus, and he certainly won’t be the last,” said Emily.
Ethan gave Emily a smooch on the cheek.
“I’ll meet up with you soon, my love,” said Ethan, wandering off towards the lodge.
“Ooh, ‘my love’?” asked Emily. “I don’t think I’ve heard him use the word ‘love’ in regard to anything but his bank account before. You’ve really done a number on him, Carol. He’s a changed man.”
“You think so?” asked Carol.
“I know so,” said Emily. “Shizz. I was hoping we could keep this conversation going longer. But you see that man over there?”
Emily pointed. A man in a red sportscar had parked in the lot. He got out of the car and pulled off his sunglasses, revealing dazzling amber gold eyes. His flowing auburn locks streamed over his shoulder.
“Is that…” started Carol. “Sorry, I know some people think they’re trashy, but I’m a big romance reader, and…”
“That’s him,” said Emily. “Cain. Cain Pellichero. He’s a model, specializing in romance novel covers. Believe it or not, but he’s never found a fated mate.”
“And let me guess,” said Carol. “He’s the next man you’re going to boot up North, to get his pretty boy bad boy self whipped into shape by Santana Claus?”
“Exactly,” said Emily. “Carol…you’re going to fit right in with the rest of Clan Marron. I’ll see you soon.”
Emily shot Carol a wink before she headed over towards the cocky romance novel model and guided him down the path that would lead to him learning that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover…even if he were the one on that cover.
The Twelve Mates of Christmas — A Sable Sylvan Christmas Spectacular
Dear reader,
In December 2018, I’m releasing twelve — that’s right, twelve — novella length romances in a brand new series called The Twelve Mates of Christmas.
This series features BBWs, werebears and other types of shifters, and of course, lots and lots of Christmas magic!
Follow Clan Marron as eight of their bad boys lose their shifts and learn the true meaning of Christmas. Then, follow the romances of Christmas demon Krampus, Santana ‘Santa’ Claus, and the ice elementals Boreas ‘Old Man’ Winter and Jack Frost.
Trust me — you’ve never read a Christmas series like this one.
Make sure to visit my Amazon author page often…that is, if you want to read my Naughtiest books yet!
There’s a sneak peek of Vixen Claws coming up after this message! Are those sleigh bells I hear ringing…or is it the sound of a romance novel playing with his Christmas tree?
xoxo,
Sneak Peek: Vixen Claws
His candy cane won't lick itself...
Romance novel model Cain Pellichero has been on the cover of countless books with happily-ever-after endings. But, the werebear hasn't even started writing his own love story.
Cain Pellichero's rock-hard abs might look Nice, but they just landed him on The Naughty List.
If he wants to get his shift back, he's going to have to claim his fated mate.
If he wants to get his mate mark back, he's going to have to get off of The Naughty List.
Oh -- and he has to pull Santa Claus' sleigh on Christmas Eve.
How hard could it be? Well, Cain's about to find out that when Fate and Christmas magic combine, anything can happen. Luckily, he's got an ally -- the one and only Vixen, one of Santa's flying reindeer.
Don't judge a romance novel model by his covers...
Curvy Candy Cassis knows a few things.
Number one. Cain Pellichero is a romance novel model. So, why is he working as a lumberjack on The Wreath, a rural area of Montana, far away from white sand tropical beaches?
Number two. His mate mark says 'Naughty,' which makes him a bad boy.
Number three. He's just her type.
The only problem is, Candy may act sassy, but she's really shy. Will she find a way to open up to Cain before Christmas?
The Wreath during Christmas is wilder than Florida during spring break!
When Cain meets Candy, she goes straight to the top of his Christmas list. The only thing the werebear wants is to unwrap her underneath his big, thick, uncut...Christmas tree.
All he has to do is claim his beauty to earn back his beast.
The only problem is, he has no idea how to fill her in on his secret.
When Avery uncovers some secrets about Candy, will Candy and Cain get closer than they ever imagine? And will Candy and Cane go together like red and white stripes on a candy cane? There's only one way to find out -- by reading 'Vixen Claws.'
This story, featuring a bad boy werebear and a BBW baker, is loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.
Candy Cassis was rolling out dough for sugar cookies. It was her favorite cookie to bake. It was simple, sure, and it was awfully strange to most folk that a baker like herself would like
to make such a ‘boring’ cookie. Candy didn’t think sugar cookies were dull. She thought they held the promise of possibility. Each cookie could be cut into any shape imaginable — a Christmas tree, a Santa hat, heck, even a flying reindeer. With a little bit of imagination, the cookies could be anything she wanted them to be.
“Hey, I think the boss lady wants to see you outside, Candy,” said Brie, calling into the kitchen.
“Tell her I’ll be right there,” said Candy, putting down the rolling pin. She took off her apron, went to the small locker room, and got changed into her new winter jacket and snow boots. She plodded outside to find her boss sitting at one of the tables on the back patio.
“Hey, Avery,” said Candy, taking a seat across from her boss.
“Here,” said Avery, passing Candy a cup. “This should keep you warm. I wanted to talk to you about why I hired you.”
Candy took the cup and took a gentle sip. The cup had hot Christmas tea. It was a cup filled with orangey and spicy caffeinated goodness. Candy smiled. She just loved the holidays.
“I know you needed a Christmas temp worker,” said Candy.
“I need more than that,” said Avery. “I need someone with your unique…skillset.”
“My skillset?” asked Candy.
“Yes,” said Avery. “Your skillset.”
Avery took a set of photos out of her pocket and laid them out on the table.
Candy’s cheeks burned.
“Oh my gosh, where did you get those?” asked Candy, looking over the familiar shots. There was Candy, wearing a short bustle skirt in red, a bright green corset, and on her head, a bright red Santa hat. She had on a pair of heels designed to look like elves’ shoes. She was no innocent Mrs. Claus. She’d used a stage name, but somehow, Avery had gotten ahold of her burlesque dancing shots.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Avery. “This year, I needed someone who knows a little something about being sexy, someone who loves Christmas, to help me out with a little side project.”
“I may be from San Francisco, but that doesn’t mean I’m into weird jenky pervy stuff,” said Candy, crossing her arms.
“Nothing like that,” said Avery. “I was hoping you could help me coordinate a ‘Sexy Santana’ shoot.”
“‘Santana?’” asked Candy.
“I mean, uh, Santa,” Avery said quickly. “I thought that the bakery could use a new advertising campaign to boost business during the holidays. You’ve seen families come into the bakery. Who does the purchasing?”
“Ninety percent of the time, it’s the moms,” said Candy.
“By having some sexy Santa advertise our pastries, we’ll bring in more moms, and make more sales,” said Avery. “Trust me. Everyone can use a little Christmas magic. Given you know about burlesque, I was hoping you could help me arrange the photo shoot, find a model, all that fun stuff. I’m not exactly experienced in that area.”
“And here I was, thinking I was hired for my white chocolate peppermint biscotti recipe,” said Candy sarcastically.
“Does that mean you’re out? If you’re out, I’ll still pay you through the season,” said Avery. “I know I only have you ‘on loan’ from the SF Bear Claw Bakery until Christmas Day.”
“I’m in,” said Candy. “It’ll give me something to do in this town. The Wreath is nice and all, but…”
“…But there’s a reason it’s not a popular tourist destination in the winter, at least for hot young singles,” admitted Avery. “I’m glad to hear you’re in. First order of business is finding a model. Think you can handle that?”
“I’ll keep my eye out for talent,” said Candy. Candy stretched her arms out and looked over the lake. There was activity on the single island in the center of the lake, an island she’d thought was abandoned.
“Hey, Avery, what’s that?” asked Candy, pointing to the island. “What’s going on on the island?”
Avery turned around.
“Oh, that’s Camp Kringle,” said Avery. “Today’s December first, the first day that the new lumberjack is allowed off the island.”
“The what is what now?” asked Candy.
“Camp Kringle is…I guess you could call it a ‘rehab’ center for bad boys,” said Avery. “All shifters. All sent to the camp by their Clan, to learn some life lessons while doing hard labor as lumberjacks on that island.”
“Like a jail?” asked Candy.
“I mean…not unlike a jail,” admitted Avery. “They’re not dangerous or anything. They’re just…misguided.”
“Huh,” said Candy. “I’d expect a prison to look…scarier.”
“Their ‘warden’ is a man named Krampus, who’s plenty scary enough,” said Avery. “Get ready to see a lot more of Krampus and whoever his ward is for this Christmas season.”
“Why would we be seeing a lot of them?” asked Candy.
“Because we make the best dang pastries and coffee on The Wreath, so that dock over there is where Krampus’ ward will be rowing every dang day for nearly the whole month,” said Avery. “Remember that order sheet I had you put together earlier? That was Krampus’ regular order.”
“He eats and drinks what, two full boxes of pastries and four carafes of coffee a day?” asked Candy. “Guess he’s a total caffeine fiend.”
“You could definitely call him a ‘fiend,’” said Avery. “Stay with me a while. Let’s see if Krampus’ newest lumberjack is easy on the eyes. He had a cute one year before last, but last year’s was a bit doughy for my taste…and I’m a baker, so, you know. I should love ‘doughy.’”
Candy moved and peered out on to the lake. There was a silver aluminum rowboat making its way across the icy lake at a surprisingly quick pace. Candy saw that there was a man in red plaid and jeans, sitting, without oars, and a man who was shirtless, with long hair past his shoulders, rowing the entire boat. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that the man who wasn’t rowing must be Krampus. There was something else in the boat, something lumpy. Were they bringing their laundry to the ‘mainland?’
There was a slash of red across the man’s shoulder. Candy was sure he was wounded. What else could cause his shoulder to turn blood red? As the boat approached, Candy realized a word was written on the man’s shoulder. She couldn’t make it out from her place on the patio.
The boat stopped at the dock. The shirtless man hopped out of the boat and tied it to the pier. The man in red plaid started walking up the stairs from the dock to the patio.
“Avery,” said the man curtly.
“Krampus,” replied Avery.
“I trust my order’s ready?” asked Krampus.
“I don’t see a tree,” said Avery, crossing her arms.
“I never should’ve brought you one in the first place,” said Krampus.
“Well, you did, and a woman has expectations, you know,” Avery sassed back. Candy was in awe of how confident her boss was. Candy and Avery had a similar body type — relatively average in height, way above average in terms of curves. Krampus, on the other hand, was tall, real tall, and broad-shouldered. There was no way he wasn’t a frikkin’ shifter.
“Speaking of expectations, that rule we talked about last year, well, Santana decided to try a year without it,” said Krampus. “Ooh — a ribbon!” Krampus picked a random ribbon up off the ground and put it in his endlessly deep pockets, tying one end of the ribbon to the loose end of the ribbon ball.
“What rule?” asked Avery.
“Really?” asked Krampus.
“Oh,” said Avery. “Oh.”
Krampus’s ward had made it up the stairs with the large parcel wrapped in black tarp wrapped with twine.
“Here,” said Krampus. “Cain, help set it up inside, will you?”
“Where should I put it?” asked Cain.
“Wait,” said Candy, looking up at the man. “Your name’s Cain?”
“Huh, guess it’s funny, Candy and Cain,” said Avery.
“No, you don’t understand,” said Candy. “Ca
in…you’re Cain Pellichero, aren’t you? The model? From all those romance novel covers? Like the Officer Larson police procedural romances?”
“Uh…in the flesh,” admitted Cain sheepishly.
“I didn’t recognize you without the billowing white shirt…or a female model being carried in your big, strong arms,” said Candy. “I mean — your arms. Your perfectly normal arms. Just arms.”
“He’s a what-now?” asked Avery.
“I’ll explain it all to you inside,” said Krampus, leading Avery into the bakery, one hand on the small of her back. “Cain. Tree. I want it set-up five minutes ago.”
“Got it,” said Cain. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Miss…?”
“Candy, Candy Cassis,” said Candy, still looking over Cain. “Y-you need help with that?”
“Do you know where I should I put it?” asked Cain.
It took all of Candy’s willpower not to say, ‘in me, right here, and hard.’ After all, she’d fantasized about Cain before. She’d honestly thought that maybe, some fancy photo editing had made him look sexier on the covers of the romance novels, but the covers were trash compared to the sexy man standing in front of her. After all, covers couldn’t capture the way he smelled. He smelled like pine, like a lumberjack. He smelled of fresh water and snow, like a Viking. He smelled of pure man and pure animal, some kind of predator, at the same damn time, like a shifter.
A shifter lumberjack Viking.
He was like something out of a frikkin’ romance novel.
She knew how the love stories with shifters always ended — in the novels, and in real life.
Shifters claimed their mates.
Between the sheets.
Hard.
So why did Cain make her feel like a fairytale princess, instead of a heroine from a romance novel?
Candy felt like the princess from Beauty and the Beast. After all, she was a BBW, and the man in front of her wasn’t just all man. He was all shifter, all beast. The only question was, was this the ‘Once upon a time’ that would lead to a fairytale ‘happily ever after?’
Prancer Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 3 Page 13