A Romance for Christmas
By Kayelle Allen
A cop at the door on Christmas Eve brings an unexpected gift.
A sweet holiday romance showcasing love, loss, and the spirit of giving.
It's Christmas Eve, and the end of a year in which everything Dara loves has been lost. Everything but her little girl and a fierce determination to survive. When a cop brings Christmas to her door, he brings another gift she never expected to get.
Music: O Christmas Tree, piano performed by Vladimir Sterzer, licensed by Jamendo.com
Peek inside the book for background on the story, the reason for the names, excerpts, buy links, and more: http://is.gd/rom4cmaspeek
About the Author
Kayelle Allen is a multi-published, award-winning author. Her unstoppable heroes and heroines include contemporary every day folk, role-playing immortal gamers, futuristic covert agents, and warriors who purr.
"Mommy?" Christine's young voice broke in on her thoughts.
Dara put down the romance she'd been re-reading, the favorite she'd had since she was sixteen. She'd sold all her others at a yard sale the previous week. "What is it, sweetie?"
"Why don't we has a real tree for Chribmas?"
"Why don't we 'have'," she corrected. "Come sit by me." Dara patted the couch and tucked her chenille robe closer around her.
One arm around Matilda, her cloth doll, Christine climbed up beside her mother and cuddled.
Matilda's going to need stuffing before long. Her head flopped forward, face against her flat chest. When did the lace on her dress get so ragged? Dara smoothed the doll's dress. "Remember when Daddy went home to heaven before Christmas last year?"
Christine knuckled her eyes and yawned. "I 'member."
"And then Mommy got hurt in the car accident and couldn't go to work?"
Dara took a deep breath. "Well, it meant there was no money for a real tree this year. But I'm sure Santa will still bring you presents." Gifts Dara bought by selling her entire collection of romance novels at a yard sale at her friend Sherilyn's house. "And we drew a tree, right?" She pointed at the crayon-bright drawing taped to the wall. Construction paper ornaments decorated each branch.
"But it doesn't smell like a Chribmas tree."
Dara hugged her. "I know, baby. I know."
"How will Santa leave his presents?" Christine pulled away and got on her knees. "He can't put them under the tree, Mommy."
"Oh, honey!" She ruffled her daughter's hair, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Santa will find a way." She leaned forward and kissed her little girl. "We should get you in bed so he can come. He can't leave presents while you're awake."