Title - Mary Christmas
Author - Hanna Park
Genre – Steamy Holiday Romance
Book Blurb
I saw her through the melee of holiday shoppers, decked out in an ugly Christmas sweater with an elf hat atop her strawberry curls. Her emerald eyes sparkled. Her smile dazzled. Mary Christmas, the girl who stole my boyish heart and years later sent the man packing. I vowed there and then to rekindle the fire in her heart.
I could have married Christopher Northbrook. When he popped the question, I hadn’t said no—I didn't say yes. Like my father and grandfather, I was charged with keeping the Christmas secret safe. Leaving Forest Falls was out of the question. So, I watched the love of my life walk away. Now he’s back, a handsome widower with twin boys in tow. Fa La La La La.
In Forest Falls, second chances come wrapped in holiday magic!
Excerpt
Whatever our past relationship, it was just that—in the past. I tugged gently on Tinsel’s lead, returning her to my side. The need to fill my mind with anything else overwhelmed my thoughts.
The line moved quickly beneath the triangular marquee jutting out over the sidewalk, hundreds of white lightbulbs flickering in random sequence. I took a moment to admire the glowing movie posters adorning the brick facade. Once a venue for vaudeville performances, the historic theater preserved its century-old allure with its eye-catching art deco decor. I rifled through my wallet for the entrance fee.
“Hi, Mary. I wondered if we’d see you tonight.” Trent stood behind the glassed-in ticket booth, jutting onto the sidewalk. He handed me a ticket stub. “The gang’s all here.”
“I almost didn’t, but here I am.” I smiled, walking through the glass doors, greeted by the intoxicating aroma of hot buttered popcorn.
“Mary! There you are,” Aredhel, who looked spectacular as usual, wore a cherry red halterneck mesh playsuit, the ruched front floating to her upper thighs. Eye-catching, to say the least. Her arms were loaded with three extra-large buckets of golden popcorn and a cardboard tray filled with three cream sodas.
I smiled. Aredhel knew me too well.
“JoJo saved our seats, front row center.” She strode through the swinging doors, giving the well-dressed usher an appraising glance.
He reacted as most men did in Aredhel’s presence—staring longingly in her direction.
“Let me help you.” I relieved Aredhel of the three popcorn buckets and stepped down a sloping aisle flanked by rows of plush seats and crimson-draped walls.
“Hey, you made it.” Jojo jumped from her chair, relieving me of the soda pop.
“You look nice.” I smiled, admiring the form-fitting and fringed sweater dress landing mid-thigh. “I love the color,” I commented on the rich chocolate shade.
“Thanks, Miranda’s is having a sale. You have to go.” She slurped soda through her straw. “Oh, and look at these boots. I found them at Here and There.” She twisted sideways, showing off knee-high winter-white leather boots.
“Spill the tea, girl. Who was the hottie?” Aredhel’s melodic voice rang out as the lights blinked and dimmed, the feature film flashing across the silver screen. She hadn’t been in town long enough to know the man who held my heart.
“A hottie? What hottie?” JoJo tossed popcorn into her mouth, her brown eyes wide behind her thick plastic frames. JoJo knew. Oh yeah, she knew the whole sordid tale.
“Christopher.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes against the flashing screen and the blaring soundtrack. “Christopher’s back.”
My voice cracked. His name. His face. Everything about him played havoc with my shattered heart.
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Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DNKG1TCV
Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DNKG1TCV
Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DNKG1TCV
Author Biography
I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything.
I write stories that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you love. Thank you, friends, for reading!
In the beginning, there was an empty page.
I am a writer who lives in Muskoka, Canada, with a husband who snores, a hungry cat, and an almost perfect canine––he’s an adorable little shit.
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