Snow & Spice, 1
Pint-sized, curvy romance author Danielle Evans has an impending deadline with her publisher and the pressure is on. Her synopsis is due by the end of the month and she’s yet to experience that ‘lightbulb’ moment.
In the hopes of finding inspiration, she decides to indulge in a solo trip to the mountains and reserves a little cabin in the small town of White Pines. Perhaps there she’ll be able to wrangle her mojo, and the words will finally flow? But destiny has other plans…
Danielle soon finds herself snowed in with the rugged mountain man, Jonathan Gray, when an unexpected blizzard hits. Before long things in the little cabin start to heat up and Danielle’s next bestseller may just end up writing itself!
Be Warned: BDSM, anal play
Excerpt:
Popping my snacks into the kitchen cupboard, I stack my hot beverage sachets by the stovetop kettle and place my rum on the bench. A thrill of excitement ripples through me and I grin to myself while rubbing my gloved hands together. “Now, let’s get this fire started.” Thanks to an awesome father who always took us camping and hiking as kids, I get the flames roaring merrily in no time and I feel like a right Girl Scout.
I slip off my gloves and leave them on the table by my cell phone, fill up the kettle, and turn on the gas. A hot mug of chocolate-flavored caffeine to warm my bones and help the ideas flow is just what the doctor ordered. Fetching my notebooks and my lucky pen, I plop myself down onto the sofa and wait for the water to boil. Gazing at the crackling fireplace, I tap the end of the pen to my lips in thought.
My publisher is expecting the synopsis for my next book by the end of the month and I’m yet to experience the “lightbulb moment.” I just need an idea, something that sparks me off, and sets my imagination running—the rest always writes itself. I want to write a story that’s popular and appeals to a wide audience but doesn’t fizzle out like a soggy firework. I need my story to have passion and excitement! It needs to be filled with popular tropes that capture the readers’ attention and steamy scenes that captivate their senses. That’s not too much to ask for, surely?
The whistle of the kettle fills the cabin, and I set down my pen to make my drink. Using some of the hot water, I rinse out a mug I found in the under-sink cabinet and mix up some instant magic. The steam of my hot beverage whorls up from the cup, frothy and delicious. But I’m going for decadence. So, unashamedly I add a small handful of mini marshmallows and a drizzle of cloyingly sweet caramel syrup. Satisfied and feeling like a queen, I settle down again.
Scribbling down whatever comes to mind, I sip at the sweet coffee concoction, lost to my thoughts and the overwhelming feeling of comfort that has me wrapped up like a kitten in a fuzzy blanket. I can’t remember the last time I felt so content and at peace. After the long drive to get out to White Pines, coupled with the yummy hot beverage in my belly and the delicious warmth radiating from the fire, I feel a welcome fatigue wash over me. Pulling my legs up onto the sofa, I lay my head on the armrest, snuggle up, and allow myself an indulgent and well-deserved nap.
Maybe the words will come more easily when I’m refreshed.
****
Loud, repetitive banging wakes me, coupled with the sound of a strong male voice calling out. I sit bolt upright, my eyes wide, instantly alert. Beyond the windows I see a blizzard raging, the world nothing but an obscured vision of white. “Oh my God!” I gasp, and without hesitating I leap to my feet. Someone is out there in that! I rush to the door and unlock it. An icy blast of freezing cold wind knocks me off my feet and snow rushes in. Shielding my eyes with my arm, I scramble to my feet, but the door is already closing as I rise.
A large man covered in snow forces the door shut and slips the locks into place, before turning to face me, resting his back against the wood in obvious relief. The man is simply enormous—broad shouldered, barrel chested, and tall. He must be at least six feet four inches, to my tiny, almost five feet one. He towers above me like a titan, his dark-brown eyes regarding me calmly as he takes a moment to catch his breath.
Swallowing my nerves, I try for a smile despite the very unexpected intrusion. “Are you all right?” I ask hesitantly. “I’m sorry if you were knocking for some time. I was asleep. Can I get you a hot drink, maybe?”
The man removes his scarf and beanie, revealing a mane of luscious dark curls that spill to his shoulders. He looks like a bloody mountain-man cover model!
My breath catches in my throat and my heart races. Damn.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice like muted thunder. “That would be great.”
“Please, warm yourself up by the fire,” I suggest. I refill the kettle and turn on the stove, automatically falling into hostess mode, ever the pint-sized people pleaser. Then, as I’m busying myself, the reality of my situation knocks the wind right out of me. That blizzard doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere soon … which means I’m snowed-in with a stranger and a drop-dead gorgeous one at that! A quiet warmth blossoms between my thighs in response, and I bite my lip. Oh, man. I’m in serious trouble!
- Series:
- /series-snow-spice/
