And the Winner Is...

Our guest for today was a no show, so I thought I'd use this opportunity to update everyone on our Christmas stories. Thanks to our readers and their much appreciated votes last week, we narrowed the first line field to the top 3 choices and created a poll. Our participating authors voted, and the winner is...drum roll, please!

She peered through the snow-spattered windshield at the neon sign and hoped like hell there was room at the inn.

The line we'll all use to start our stories is very clever! I'm hoping the author who came up with it will tell us who she is in comments. It's a little more specific than some of our past choices, so we'll need to be on our toes to write stories that aren't all similar. However,  being a diverse bunch, I'm sure this group is up to the challenge! I'm already thinking outside the box...

I hope everyone will join us for 12 festive holiday stories beginning right after Thanksgiving weekend. The way time is flying this summer, November will be here before we know it! All we have left to do now (other than the actual writing) is come up with a title for this year's collection. Any ideas? Once we have that, I'm sure Alison will make us another spectacular cover. Stay tuned!

More Than Mistletoe Chapter Two by Christine DePetrillo

This tale is part of my Maple Leaf Series! 

Chapter Two

Alex paced in his room at Hinsdale Inn. His lips still buzzed from Dayna’s kiss.

Dayna’s kiss!

What the hell had happened? One minute he was tucking his best friend in, making sure she was comfortable and her injured ankle was properly elevated. Taking care of her as he had for all the years they’d known each other. The next minute, they were sucking face like two horny teenagers. He’d been powerless to stop it.

No. That’s not true.

He’d had time to stop it, but he hadn’t wanted to stop it. How long had he dreamed of kissing Dayna? Like forever. Those nights when she’d needed a place to hide from her father had been awful for her, but not for him. He’d loved the way she made his room smell—peaches and sunshine—and talking in the dark for hours with her had always relaxed him. He’d tried being best friends with the boys in his classes, but they always fell short. So immature. Dayna made him think and laugh and dream.

And now he knew what her lips felt like pressed against his. That kiss had been better than anything he’d ever imagined.

So why did I run?

Because he was a coward. Dayna was the best friend he’d ever had. If he lost her… if a different kind of relationship didn’t work between them and they couldn’t see each other anymore, he wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

Although… nothing about that kiss suggested they wouldn’t be amazing together. It was as if her lips had been made to fit his. For the few moments before his stupid brain took over, everything had been perfect. Her lip gloss tasted like cinnamon toast. Her long, black hair had slipped like silk between his fingers as he’d slid his hand up to the back of her slender neck. She still smelled like peaches and sunshine even though it was the end of December. The small noises that came from her throat as they kissed nearly set him on fire.

The look in her deep blue eyes, however, when he’d torn his lips from hers and bolted to his feet told him she’d never forgive him for running away. How could she? She’d taken a chance—a big chance—and he’d thrown it back at her. He’d even slammed the door on his way out. Not on purpose, but he’d had to get out of there. Had to tamp down his arousal before things got out of control. Get his head back on straight.

He wasn’t supposed to be kissing Dayna Birchfield. Best friends didn’t kiss. They hung out. They laughed. They busted each other’s balls. They didn’t fall in love.

Did they?

Crap. This was too much for him to think about. Wasn’t he supposed to be not working hard on this mini-vacation? Kissing Dayna was more complicated than any engineering problems he tackled at work.

He raked his hands through his hair then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall above the dresser. Black strands stood out like spikes and he had a wild look in his hazel eyes. If someone handed him an ax to go with his flannel shirt, he’d look like a serial killer right now, lumberjack style.

Alex went to the bathroom adjacent to his room and smoothed down his hair. After a few splashes of cold water to his face and donning his ski jacket, he left the inn, intending to take a long walk in the icy air and figure out some things.

When he got to the frozen pond on the property, he found Mark and Erin snuggling on a bench, steaming mugs of hot cocoa in their gloved hands. Now there was a couple who knew how to follow the rules. They’d met in college. Dated for a few years. Mark proposed. Erin said yes. They were well into their happily ever after. Like completely normal people.

He sighed. Loudly apparently because Mark and Erin turned around at the same time to look at him.

“How’s Dayna?” Mark asked.

“I don’t know.” Alex jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “How would I know how she is?”      

“Uhh, because you were getting her settled in her room.” Mark raised his blond brows then turned so he could see Alex more fully. “Dude, what’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

Erin grinned as she sniffed in the steam from her mug. “I think he’s seen something all right. What took you so long?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Alex started walking again, prepared to get lost and freeze to death in the woods instead of have Erin give voice to what was cycling around in his head. How did she know anyway? Some kind of womanly insight? Damn her.

“You keep telling yourself that, Alex,” Erin called.

“Telling himself what?” Mark looked from his wife to his brother. When neither of them replied, Mark frowned. “I’m missing something.”

Erin patted her husband’s cheek. “Men miss a lot of things, sweets. Fortunately women are a forgiving sort.” She dropped a quick peck on Mark’s cheek then stared up at Alex. “If forgiveness is asked for in a timely fashion that is.” She motioned back to the inn with her mug.

Dammit. He wasn’t ready to go back in there. To face Dayna. To deal with the kiss.

But Erin was right. The longer he went without doing something, the more likely he was to lose Dayna forever. That couldn’t happen.

With a growl, Alex turned around and stomped back toward the inn, Erin’s call of good boy floating on the chilly breeze behind him.

He marched through the inn’s great room where Lily and Rick were huddled on the couch. Did this inn pump something into the air to make folks want to get romantic? Jeez.

“Can we get you anything, Alex?” Lily tugged on a fleece blanket Rick was apparently hogging.

Balls. Some balls would be good. Because going upstairs to see Dayna was making his palms drip with sweat. His heart was doing this weird dub-lub dub-a-de-dub dub-lub in his chest. His mouth was wicked dry too. Maybe he was a little dizzy.

Oh, God. He was going to die before he told Dayna how he really felt about her.

“Alex?” Rick surrendered the blanket to Lily and stood to face him. “What’s wrong? Did you see a bear out there?” He squinted out the great room windows.

“A bear?” Lily crunched up into a ball on the couch.

“No. No bears.” Just one nosey sister-in-law who happened to always be right. “I’m just going to check on Dayna.”

“Let us know if she needs anything.” Lily had uncoiled and offered some blanket to Rick who readily accepted it as he sat on the couch again. The two of them were back to cuddling before Alex hit the stairs.

Cuddling. Yeah. Okay.

He stared up the stairs. Dayna’s closed door was to the right. She was just on the other side of it. Was she sleeping? Should he maybe not disturb her?

Should he stop stalling?

Did she want to cuddle?

The trip up the stairs was too short. He stood at her door, his hand at his side clenching into a fist, unclenching, clenching, unclenching.

Just lift your hand, man, and knock already.

Why was he being such a damn baby about this? Had Dayna’s kiss scrambled his brain entirely?

Yes. Definitely.

But he could do this. He had to.

He knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the tranquility of the inn. Vermont was so quiet. Too quiet. Alex was used to Boston noise. Comforting city noise. This silence made his wild heartbeat thunder in his ears.

“Come in.” Dayna’s voice sounded groggy.

Crap. She had been sleeping. Now he felt like a jerk again, but it was too late to turn back now.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Sunlit ice crystals on one of the large windows mesmerized him for a moment, but a sniffle from the bed immediately garnered all his attention.

“Dayna?” He moved closer to the bed. “Are you crying?”

Dumb question. Of course she was. Her beautiful eyes were slightly bloodshot and her cute nose was red.

She cleared her throat and sniffed again. “No.”

“Liar.” He sat on the edge of the bed near her feet, doing a quick scan of her ankle. “Are you in pain?”

A choked laugh filled the space between them. “You could say that.”

Ouch. Maybe Erin had been wrong. Maybe forgiveness wasn’t possible. Maybe Dayna hated him.

“Do you want me to get you something to drink or eat?” He swallowed loudly. Damn that quiet.

“Because you can’t wait to run out of this room again?” Her blue fire gaze threatened to fry his retinas. Dayna didn’t usually do dripping with disdain, but right now? Heck, right now she was nailing it.

“Look, about that…” He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked at his boots.

“Let me guess,” she said. “That kiss was a mistake and we’re best friends and best friends aren’t supposed to make out under the mistletoe, which if I could stand up right now, I’d rip that freaking weed down and burn it.” She huffed out a breath and shifted, a wince flitting across her features as she jostled her ankle.

“You’re a terrible guesser.” He risked scooching up to where her knees were, his arms itching to hold her maybe.

“I am?” She licked her lips and he couldn’t help but stare at them now that he knew what they could do to him.

“I don’t think that kiss was a mistake,” he whispered.

“Then why did you run?” Dayna folded her arms across her chest as if she thought he was full of crap.

“Y chromosome?” He dared to slide up to her thighs now, moving as if he were approaching a butterfly he didn’t want to fly away from him. “I panicked. I was enjoying that kiss too much. I couldn’t—”

Her hand on his stopped him. “You enjoyed the kiss?”

“Very much. Who wouldn’t, Dayna?” He flipped his hand over so he could thread his fingers between hers. “You know how I’m always telling you’re good at things?”

She nodded, her gaze focused on their clasped hands now.

“Add kissing to that list.” He reached out his free hand and tipped her head up with a finger to her chin.

Her cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink as she looked at him. “Are we still best friends?”

Alex stood, his hand slipping from hers. “Definitely not.”

Tune in tomorrow for the final segment, Chapter Three!

Want more holiday fun? Visit my website to read More Than Biscotti, a short Christmas novella, or Midnight Mistletoe, another short holiday novella, for FREE! Just scroll down to the bottom of the "Books" page.

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

More Than Mistletoe by Christine DePetrillo

This tale is part of my Maple Leaf Series! 

Chapter One

This was the absolute last time she kissed anyone under the mistletoe. How could she have been so dumb? Dayna Birchfield was famous among her friends for coming up with crazy ideas. But kissing Alex Simmons? Her freaking best friend in the entire universe?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

And now he’d booked it out of her room. At warp speed.

Dayna would have followed him—probably—if her ankle wasn’t sprained from her amateur skiing expedition in the mountains of Vermont. Another one of her ridiculous ideas.

“Let’s go skiing,” she’d announced two weeks ago while hanging at The Clumsy Grasshopper with Alex, his brother, Mark, and Mark’s wife, Erin. The four of them met regularly at the Boston pub which Alex’s friend, Grady, owned and operated. The steak sandwiches were to die for, but it was Grady’s sexy Irish accent that kept Dayna coming back. Too bad the hot bartender was already taken. All the good guys were.

Except for Alex.

“Skiing?” Alex’s dark brows had crinkled over his big hazel eyes. “You can’t walk on the semi-level sidewalks of Boston without falling on your rump. Do you actually think skiing will be easier, Miss Graceful?” He’d grinned like he had a million times before, but the black stubble he’d let grow around his mouth and jaw recently had turned that grin into something… potent.

Shaking her head, Dayna had glared at him hard enough to melt the December snow outside, but the dude was right. If the opportunity to stumble, trip, or crash head first into anything presented itself, her body would snatch at that chance. She tried to be careful. She did. Honestly. Gravity just had it out for her.

“I saw a ski weekend ad for Hinsdale Inn in Vermont,” she’d said, choosing to ignore Alex’s comment—and his stubble—and address Mark and Erin instead. “We could get a few rooms, ski, drink hot cocoa, have a Scrabble tournament. Our own little Christmas party in the woods.”

“If there’s Scrabble, I’m in,” Mark had said.

“Playing Scrabble with a writer is no fun.” Alex had finished off the last of his beer. “The rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

“The rest of you i-d-i-o-t-s, you mean?” Mark had ducked when Alex flicked the cap of his beer at him.

“If Dayna wants to ski, I say we ski.” Erin had nodded at Dayna, the woman’s brown eyes narrowing as if she’d come to a conclusion of some kind. “How many hockey, baseball, and football games have we gone to because you two morons wanted to go?” She’d gestured between the brothers then looked pointedly at Alex. “Besides, you’ve been working too hard.”

Alex wouldn’t be Alex if he wasn’t working too hard. Dayna had been best friends with him since the fifth grade and even back then he’d always gone the extra mile on just about everything. She’d really appreciated him working hard to be her best friend all these years. It wasn’t always easy. Being her friend.

And now I’ve destroyed it all with one damn kiss.

Dayna flopped her head back on the pillows stuffed behind her. Pillows Alex himself had positioned and plumped for her. The weekend had been going well. They’d arrived at Hinsdale Inn without incident even though the roads were snowy. Lily and Rick Stannard who owned the inn had been more than welcoming, and Alex had been super patient as he’d taught Dayna the basics of skiing. He’d mentioned many principles of physics in his instruction, but that was how Alex explained the world. Through science. He made sure she understood though before releasing her on the mountain. Everything had been great.

Until Dayna’s feet got all tangled up with her skis and her left ankle had not emerged victorious. Physics was no friend of hers. The pain had sucked as had the emergency room visit.

Alex carrying her down the mountain, however, had not sucked. His muscled arms were strong, his hard body warm, and the up close view of that stubble was killer. Was he giving off a new pheromone or something? Had he always been this hot? Why was she only noticing over this last month that Alex Simmons could, in fact, be The One?

He’d always been there for her. When her father beat her mother and then went looking for his next victim, Alex, who had lived next door, had opened his bedroom window and let her climb in. He’d assured her she was safe. He’d promised to protect her. He’d distracted her with comic books, video games and baseball cards—all the things a boy considered treasures. He’d shared them with her without a second thought. He’d stayed awake until she fell asleep under his Scooby Doo sleeping bag he’d set up on the small couch in his bedroom for her. He’d brought her food. Mostly Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, because let’s face it, everything was better with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

They’d been friends all through school, college included, and when he’d landed a job as an aerospace engineer, she’d figured he’d leave Boston far behind.

But the genius hadn’t.

He’d stuck around. “I can rocket science anywhere, Dayna. Why not here? This is home.”

Boston was home. Maybe there were other things that made the city home too. Dayna didn’t know for sure, so they’d just continued being best friends. She asked him about rocket sciencing and he asked her about architecting. They talked, chilled, best friended. Just like always. They dated other people then immediately texted each other to point out the inadequacies of the potentials. These conversations usually ended in complete hysterics and one of them suggesting meeting up at The Clumsy Grasshopper.

Bottom line? Dayna preferred Alex’s company over anyone else’s.

Clearly he didn’t feel the same way. Or maybe her breath had been rancid when she’d pointed out the mistletoe hanging over the bed and smashed her mouth against his in possibly her most impulsive move ever.

She cupped her hands over her mouth and breathed out a puff of air. After inhaling deeply, her final assessment was that no, her breath wasn’t rancid. Nonetheless, she was alone in her room. Alex had left. She didn’t know if he would return. Oh, God, what if he didn’t return?

He did kiss me back though.

There was that. He had every chance to push her away before their lips locked. He could have said, “I’d rather you didn’t kiss me, Dayna.” He’d had time to slip off her bed and get out of range.

But he hadn’t.

His warm lips had softened against hers, that stubble scraping pleasantly against her skin. He’d smelled like fresh winter air and Christmas magic. The red and black checkered flannel shirt he wore had been soft beneath her hands as she’d gripped his broad shoulders. He’d opened his mouth when her tongue sought entrance. He’d even hooked his big, calloused man hand on the back of her neck. He’d moaned. She was certain of it.

Then he’d ripped his mouth free of hers and darted for the door like a spooked animal.

Dayna looked up at the mistletoe still hanging from the canopy of the four-poster log bed. It looked so harmless, but it had the ability to ruin everything. 

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter Two!

Want more holiday fun? Visit my website to read More Than Biscotti, a short Christmas novella, or Midnight Mistletoe, another short holiday novella, for FREE! Just scroll down to the bottom of the "Books" page.

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com