Bestselling Author Delilah Devlin
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Jeanette Grey: The Anti-Holiday Romance
Thursday, November 3rd, 2016

I’m going to let you in on a poorly kept secret: I, Jeanette Grey, am a Grinch. Christmas stuff starts showing up in stores and I groan. The specter of buying gifts and traveling gives me heartburn. I actively reprogram the radio stations in my car the second they switch over to holiday music; I’ll take static over one more play of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You”.

So what right do I have to be writing a holiday romance?

None. And yet I did it anyway.

Much like me, the heroine of my new novella, Let It Snow, is a bit of a bah-humbug, and that’s only made worse by the fact that her name is Holly. Having grown up in an unhappy household, Holly doesn’t have many good holiday memories to make the season bright for her. She escaped her childhood home, and now channels her energy into school, her job at the local independent bookstore, general fangirling and geekery, and, oh right, ogling the hot assistant manager at the store, Sam.

Sam’s not looking forward to Christmas this year, either, but for very different reasons. He loves his family, but they had a falling out when he decided not to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Since neither of them have holiday plans, Holly and Sam end up working the late shift two days before Christmas. All seems well, right up until a freak blizzard catches them unaware, stranding them at the store together. With nothing to do but talk, they end up getting much, much better acquainted, trading heated kisses as well as painful secrets.

And the funny thing is that it changes Holly’s perspective on the holiday entirely. While I remain a Grinch to this day, I’ve found that the holidays are all about the memories you associate with them and the people you share them with. As I’ve gotten older and my circle of family and friends has expanded, my heart may not have grown three sizes, but it’s maybe shifted from a small to at least a medium. This Christmas will be the first I spend as a new mom, and already, I can see my perspective on it shifting with the new addition.

So too for Holly. As her circle grows to include not just Sam but his family as well, the meaning of the season changes. She’s able to let go of a little of the loneliness that’s always shrouded it in the past—and by the end of it, she’s more than happy to Let It Snow, indeed.

Let It Snow


Baby, it’s cold outside . . .

‘Tis the night before Christmas Eve and Holly wishes she hadn’t volunteered to work the night shift. The weather is frightful and getting worse by the minute, and the same old annoying carols are blasting from the bookstore’s speakers. But Holly’s holiday spirit returns when the store’s sexy new assistant manager arrives to keep her company. He has muscled arms, baby blue eyes, and a sweet pair of lips she wouldn’t mind meeting under the mistletoe.

Sam is glad the snow is keeping away customers-it gives him a chance to get close to his favorite employee. Holly has always been a mystery to Sam, like a beautiful present he’d love to unwrap. When they’re trapped by a full-blown blizzard, Holly breaks into the Christmas cookie display. Sam busts out a bottle of vodka from the boss’s office. Soon the two are trading heated kisses—as well as secrets neither has ever felt safe enough to tell before. What started out as one naughty night together turns into something so much more.


Before he could ask if she was sure, she moved her hand to the nape of his neck, twisting her fingers in the scruff there and tugging him down, leaving him no room to doubt. God, she’d only wanted this for months, and she’d been holding back all night. No way she was letting another minute go by before she sucked his tongue and got the whole length of his body pressed against her.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, and just like that, everything went hot and electric, and yes, hell yes, this was how she’d imagined he would kiss, all hard and messy and confident as he took charge. He tasted like cheap vodka and cookies and sex, and the slick caress of his tongue made everything flash to liquid in her bones. She made a noise in the rear of her throat that should have been embarrassing except that his own groan echoed hers. The hand on her chest slid to her hip, his other arm wrapping around her waist. She rose onto her toes, but it wasn’t close enough. With a little whine, she hauled herself up, and he was right there with her, getting a hand on her ass to steady her as she hopped and wrapped her legs around his waist and Hello, there.

Fuck, the hard ridge of him through those jeans was hitting her exactly where she needed it to, sending a bloom of pleasure reeling out through her spine and all the way to her toes. The way he was holding her, like she barely weighed anything at all, just made her hotter, and when she ground her hips into his, he practically choked on his tongue, fingers stuttering against her waist and thigh. Her breasts were pressed up tight against the solid muscle of his chest, her nipples stiff points of sensation, and she wanted his hands on them. His mouth and his teeth, and—

Somehow they were staggering backward. Her ass hit the edge of the couch, and he dropped to his knees in front of her, palms sliding over her legs, and her glasses were smudged and askew, and she didn’t care. This was too fast—too much and probably a terrible idea, but everything about it seemed right. He felt so good and he kissed like he’d been made for it, for making a woman go to pieces around him and under him and on top of him, and she wanted to know. To get inside of him and get him inside of her.

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