This week's teaser is from A Christmas to Believe In, Book III in The Three Kings

Maybe coming home wouldn’t turn out so bad after all. He hadn’t seen his brothers in years.

He made his way to the porch, stopped in front of the door to stomp the snow off his boots. Bells jangled as he opened the door.

A chorus of laughter greeted his ears. Alex looked up with a broad grin. But what caught Clint’s immediate attention was the flash of movement near the hearth. He glanced over in time to see a woman punch Heath in the arm. She tumbled back into her chair, giggling, then turned bright blue eyes on him.


“Clint!” Her excited greeting blended with his brothers’ hellos.

Her smile, however, made his breath catch. Something deep in his gut tripped as he took another step inside and Jesse eased to her feet. Long black hair tumbled to her waist, just as she’d always worn it. He’d seen those raven locks a thousand times, but they’d never shone quite like they did as she crossed the room.

To his shame, his gaze skipped down to her toes, taking in curves he’d never noticed, and a waist so tiny he could span his hands around it. She wore jeans that hugged thighs he knew were muscular. Only, five years ago, they’d just been Jesse’s legs.

Now, they belonged to a…

He caught the sweet scent of lilacs as she slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Soft curves melted against his chest.

A woman.

When in the hell had Jesse grown up? She’d been thirty when they’d last spent any time together. Even as an adult, he’d still seen the tomboy she’d always been. His little sister. But damn… She felt good. All feminine.

He collected himself enough to return her hug. “I’ll be damned, Jesse. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Is that Clint?” his mother called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m here.”

Jesse pulled out of his embrace, leaving his skin tingling where they’d touched. Good grief, what was the matter with him? He’d wrestled with her, for God’s sake, and hadn’t ever been affected by touching her. For that matter, they’d all skinny dipped in Longview Lake one summer. And those breasts hadn’t been anywhere near as compelling as they were beneath her light blue sweater right now.

Shoot, he hadn’t even known she’d had breasts back then.

Well, he’d known, but there was a distinct difference.


Check back Monday to enter and win a copy of A Christmas to Believe In


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"Victorians used the term 'limbs' as a euphenism for legs, which were thought to be so sexually exciting to a man, even a glimpse of a table leg could incite him to sexual frenzy. Table skirts were invented to prevent any unnatural unions between men and furniture."
(History Channel International)



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