It’s my pleasure to host Jeanne Adams, another of the 15 authors featured in Under The Kissing Bough.
Thanks for having me, Anna. Here is a blurb for my novella in this wonderful collection:
Welcome to the witchiest town in the world––Haven Harbor, Massachusetts!
It’s the merriest of holidays and Yule and Christmas celebrations bring out the mischief and mistletoe. Caught under the kissing bough, Annie Boylston and Reyn Shapleigh are elected the King and Queen of the Yule Ball, and must spend the week in revelry and celebration.
Unfortunately, someone in town isn’t so happy about the holidays. An arsonist is trying to disrupt the joyful season, bringing fire and destruction to Haven Harbor. As the fire chief, Reyn is on the front line, using every bit of his training and magick to find the firebug. Annie’s cooking store is one of the arsonist’s targets, as are other thriving businesses in town. As the fire of attraction grows between Reyn and Annie, the arsonist gets bolder. In a race to stop the fires, Reyn and Annie find one another in this hot mistletoe tale!
Love the hero’s name Jeanne!
“Thanks for coming to help,” Annie Boylston said, as she wired the kissing ball onto the bottom of the crystal chandelier. “It’s just these last two.”
“No problem. I figure if I know where all the mistletoe is, I can avoid it.”
Annie was startled into a laugh. “Oh, my gosh, I thought I was the only one who did that!” She smiled down at him. “I’ll show you where I’ve hung the others.”
He smiled and she felt the warmth of it all the way to her toes.
“Thanks. It’s not that I don’t like the tradition,” he began.
“I know. I like it too, but in a town full of witches, you never know what’s going to happen if you kiss, and there’s all kinds of pressure if you don’t kiss,” she said.
“Yeah, don’t want bad luck. Always want to kiss if you’re caught, right?”
“Right, unless you really don’t want to get married. Or you want every witch in town frowning at you for courting misfortune.”
They grinned in complete accord. “The women in my family, if they’re into kitchen witchery like me,” she said, “are always spinsters. So I’m not sure the kissing-not-kissing thing works on the Boylstons.”
“Your cousin Samantha would dispute that,” he said with a laugh. Annie climbed down, and he moved the ladder across the room to the second enormous chandelier.
“Yes, but she’s not into magick.” She’d appreciated all the groomsmen at Samantha’s wedding, including the handsome Reyn Shapleigh.
After Reyn set the ladder down by the service entrance, Annie pulled his arm and kept him away from the mistletoe over the second swinging door.
“I figured the staff might like kisses too,” she said. “Now you can avoid that one.”
“So where are the other land mines?” he asked.
She laughed. He was easy to talk to, and she appreciated his desire to avoid the embarrassing mistletoe traps. “Get some coffee and I’ll show you.”
They spent a companionable time touring the mistletoe sites. In the lobby she showed him the one she’d hung by the coatroom. “And I think that’s it.”
“I’ve made a mental map,” he joked. “Thanks.” As they headed back to the ballroom, he said, “I’m usually at some kind of training course when the Yule Ball happens.”
Reyn paused and she looked up at him. He was fairly tall, at least six feet or better, to her five-foot-three in her sneakers. Her heartbeat picked up its pace. With his dark hair and brown eyes, he was quite handsome.
She was about to say something to break the moment when Moira called out to them. “Hey, you two! Stop!”
They turned. “What?” Annie called, worried that they were about to step on a garland or decoration.
Moira pointed. “I just hung the extra kissing ball I made, and you’re under it! Kiss!! Hey, it’s not like kissing’s a hardship right?”
Reyn looked down. “Guess we’ve been caught.”
“I guess,” Annie said, frowning. “Well, maybe this will make our luck for the night.”
“Exactly,” he said. He bent down and she stretched up, her hand resting lightly on his chest for balance.
“First Yule kiss! Make it good!” the others chanted.
“They’re idiots,” he murmured, just before his mouth met hers.
She was smiling when they kissed, but the rush of heat that coursed through her was like a furnace. It only lasted a moment, but it felt like an eternity as their lips clung, then parted.
When she dropped down, with her feet flat on the floor, she just stared at him.
“Whoa,” he murmured, gazing at her lips, then into her eyes. “What was that?”
As you’ve seen over the past few days, the stories in this collection are diverse. It’s still available for 99 cents, but only for a limited time.
Jeanne Adams writes award-winning suspense, paranormal, mysteries and urban fantasies. She’s also a sought-after speaker, who knows a thing or two about getting rid of the evidence…
Jeanne specializes in thrills and suspense. Even her paranormal and urban fantasies have a suspense element, so be prepared! She loves football, baseball, dogs, Halloween and the weird – hey, she teaches classes for writers on body disposal!
Jeanne lives in DC with her husband and two growing sons, as well as three dogs – two Labs and an Irish Water Spaniel. Don’t tell, but she’s prone to adopting more dogs when her husband isn’t looking.
Featured in Cosmopolitan Magazine, and other publications, her books have been consistently hailed as “One of the best Suspense Books of the Year!” by Romantic Times. You can find her at her newly redesigned website: www.JeanneAdams.com, on Twitter at www.twitter.com/JeanneAdams or at www.Facebook.com/JeanneAdamsAuthor