THE UNHONEYMOONERS meets Netflix’s HOLIDATE
Strangling her brother’s BFF would ruin Christmas, but playing the villain to Nic’s Hollywood superhero comes easily to graphic artist Jessie, after he insulted her art years before. When a pair of mistletoe panties and a snarky comment become an enemies-with-benefits arrangement, Jessie catches feelings. With her family stuck in between, she must choose—play the bad guy and get left out in the cold, or let Nic break her heart.
Pain blossomed across the side of my ass, but damn, my boots looked good up in the air. Sinfully pointed at the heavens, the black, knee-high stilettos had, sadly, met their match in the ice at the end of the driveway. Not their fault.
Fucking Timbo. My asshole brother had parked in my spot.
Turning toward the glow of my parent’s Connecticut home, I pushed up onto my elbows and blew a stray lock of hair out of my face, hoping nobody saw me fall. The windows were mercifully void of laughing family and friends, lined instead with Christmas lights of the large, vintage variety. I was alone in the silvery-blue world of moonlit snow, staring at a scene straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.
Home—where the hot chocolate had more Bailey’s and whipped cream than was wise for my battered ass. Our carols were dirty, our Christmas Eve party was legendary, and I was going to love every minute of this holiday.
Unless Dominic Fontana was here.
My brother’s BFF––the star of a successful superhero franchise––had gotten a divorce. With no supermodel wife to turn her nose up at our silly Christmas traditions, there was a good chance Captain Dickhead was inside, silent and broody and losing at Scrabble.
Ready to ruin my holiday.