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New Release | Snowfire, part of the Mine This Winter anthology #romance #newrelease #bookboost



Title: Snowfire, part of the Mine This Winter anthology

Author: Charlotte O’Shay

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Romance Café Publishing


Book Blurb:


Ballet dancer Natalya Nieves sacrificed everything, including a social life, to succeed in her chosen career. But when she meets Luca, her focus strays-— to a man who could fulfill her every fantasy.


When Luca Fiero escaped routine life in his family’s Hell’s Kitchen bakery, the cost was life-altering. These days ex-con Luca values work and family and knows all too well what he can never have.


But Christmas magic doesn’t care if straight arrow Natalya and fallen angel Luca never should’ve met. With holiday cookies sweetening the deal, will Natalya and Luca be granted a future they don’t believe they deserve?


Excerpt:


Water. I strode behind the counter and grabbed a bottled water from the glass-fronted fridge. “Here,” I said, placing the water on her table. “On the house.”


“Thanks.” Waving a graceful hand toward the big bag lying on the chair beside her, she said, “I forgot to refill my water bottle.” After a long swig, she replaced the cap and settled back in her seat. “Perfect palate cleanser like they say on the cooking shows.” She grinned and seemed so comfortable now she might have been sitting at my table for years instead of minutes. And I liked the feeling. A lot. Maybe too much. Next she carefully broke the Linzer tart in half and took a small bite. Painstaking though she was, the tart was super fresh and therefore crumbly and a powdered spray of confectioner’s sugar coated her lips. “Oh…oh man, this is good,” she said, as her tongue darted out to capture the excess sugar.


Gun to my head, I couldn’t’ve taken my gaze away from her lips. Did it make me a creep that I wanted to watch her talk, and eat? That I wanted her to stay at my table? Say something, Luca.


“Which foodie shows do you watch?”


“All of them. Especially the baking ones. You know, Cupcake Wars, The Great British Bake Off…and actually on those shows you might get the argument that Linzer tarts aren’t cookies but actually in the torte or cake family and therefore ineligible for your contest.”


“Hmm. Linzers are sandwich cookies like so many others, though.”


“True.” She chewed the corner of her lip.


“And I would further counter the cake argument by saying here in the states Linzers have been baked both as cookies and full tortes for generations. Do you consider them cookies?”


“Oh, absolutely.”


“Do you bake? Or do you just like watching the shows?”


“Definitely the latter.” She rolled her eyes in a way I found adorable. “I can hardly boil an egg. But I enjoyed all of those shows while I was…when I was….”


Her words drifted to a halt and I nodded reassurance to encourage her to finish her thought, strangely unwilling to pry when her gaze darted down to the table as if she was self-conscious or maybe sad. Neither was good. I took another step backwards. Intimidating her wasn’t good either. If I was scaring her, she wouldn’t come back. And I wanted her to come back for his made-up cookie contest. Badly. I couldn’t do anything about my size or my voice but I didn’t have to hover. “So what did you think? What’s the verdict?”


She patted her stomach and her bow-like lips parted again to reveal a smile so big it covered the lower portion of her face from her pointed chin up to her delicate nose. “Sorry, cute almond cookie, but Linzer tart wins, hands down or is that two thumbs up,” she demonstrated with said digits, adding, “I’m a sucker for that raspberry jam.”


I noisily cleared my throat before I was able to grunt out a halfway normal response. “We get the raspberries fresh and make our own jam. My aunt grows them out on the island.”


“You can tell.” She broke off another piece, which was when I noticed she wore no rings on her fingers, and took another small, savoring bite.


“No preservatives either,” I added, like a salesman eager to close a deal.


She looked up at me with flushed cheeks and shining eyes as she swallowed the last morsel. Every muscle, every organ of my body tightened as my gaze lingered and I noted the way tendrils of her caramel hair curled and clung to her elegant neck. How would it feel to loop a finger into one of those wayward ringlets? Or to run the pad of a finger along the side of her neck to see if her skin really was as soft as the lightest of creams? What if I smoothed my thumb along the pulse hammering just there, below her ear?


Intrusive bullets of sound hit the plate glass windows and we both jolted at the furious start of the rain shower pummeling sheets of water against the panes. She stood and brushed crumbs off her already spotless lap. “Ugh, figures. I should have been home by now.”


“If you give me a minute to shut this place down, I’ll walk you under my umbrella.”


Her gaze roamed over the tats covering my arms. This woman didn’t know me. With the way I looked, I should’ve been happily surprised she stayed for the cookies.


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Author Biography:


The only think Charlotte O’Shay loves more than reading steamy romance where happily ever after always wins is writing them.


Charlotte was born in New York City into big family and then married into another big family.


Negotiating skills honed at the dinner table led her to a career as a lawyer.


But after four beautiful children joined the crowded family tree, Charlotte traded her legal career to write about happily ever afters in the City of Dreams and she couldn’t be happier.


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