Showing posts with label RaeAnne Thayne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RaeAnne Thayne. Show all posts

Monday, September 19, 2022

ALL IS BRIGHT BLOG TOUR

 


ALL IS BRIGHT

Author: RaeAnne Thayne

ISBN: 9781335933997

Publication Date: September 20, 2022

Publisher: HQN

 Book Summary:

Return to Hope’s Crossing this Christmas in New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne’s latest heartwarming story of matchmaking at the holidays!

Sage McKnight is an ambitious young architect working at her father’s firm who takes on her most challenging client in Mason Tucker. The former pro baseball player is still healing from the physical and emotional scars after a plane crash left him a wheelchair-using single dad, and he’s determined not to let anyone breach his emotional defenses. Sage knows her work on Mason’s new home in Hope’s Crossing is her best work yet, and she won’t let her grumpy client prevent her from showcasing her work personally.

With Sage’s gift for taking broken things and making them better, the matchmaking talent of the quirky locals and a generous sprinkling of Christmas cheer, Mason doesn’t stand a chance against the power of this magical holiday season.


Buy Links:

BookShop: https://bookshop.org/books/all-is-bright-a-christmas-romance/9781335449979 

Harlequin: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335933997_all-is-bright.html  

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/all-is-bright-raeanne-thayne/1141697219?ean=9781335933997 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/All-Bright-Christmas-Romance-Novel-ebook/dp/B09P1NF9KN/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=all+is+bright+raeanne+thayne&qid=1662582061&sprefix=all+is+bri%2Caps%2C109&sr=8-1 

Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/All-Bright/Raeanne-Thayne/9781335449979?id=8292090795540 

Powell’s: https://www.powells.com/book/all-is-bright-9781335933997 

 



Author Bio:


RaeAnne Thayne is the #1 Publisher's Weekly, New York Times, and USA TODAY bestselling author of nearly seventy books. Her books have been described as "poirgnant and sweet," with "beautiful, honest storytelling that goes straight to the heart." She finds inspiration from the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where she lives with her family. She loves to hear from readers and can be reach through her webiste at raeannethayne.com.

Author Website: https://www.raeannethayne.com/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorRaeAnneThayne/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/raeannethayne 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/raeannethayne 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/116118.RaeAnne_Thayne 

EXCERPT

“We’re now walking into the home theater,” she spoke to her outstretched camera, “one of the more challenging rooms of the renovation. Prior to this update, the room had a series of steps leading to the different levels of recliners. Obviously, that would no longer work for the homeowner, so we chose to remove the steps completely, instead building a gradual slope with room to maneuver around each level of seating. Beyond featuring state-of-the-art electronics that will be easily upgradeable, everything in here—from the blackout window shades to the sound system to the recliners themselves—can be controlled through a single smart home phone app.”

She turned the camera to face her. “Doesn’t this look like a wonderfully cozy place to watch a movie or catch your favorite sporting event?”

She smiled into the phone camera, then moved back into the wide hallway leading to the library/office, her own favorite spot in the house.

“You can see here we have sliding pocket doors that open and close with the push of a button. We chose to replace the traditional doors in many of the spaces with these pocket doors, which gives more room for the homeowner to navigate, and we also…”

Her words trailed off as she heard a sound behind her and turned to see a large, dark-haired man using a wheelchair, framed in the doorway.

He frowned, an expression she had become all too used to seeing there, during their few in-person interactions and their more frequent video conferences.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “You’re not filming this, are you?”

Sage dropped her phone with an inward wince and stopped recording. Technically, this was still her job site, which meant she had full permission to check on the progress of the work until they handed the finished home over to the owner, who happened to be this man, former professional baseball player Mason Tucker.

With effort, she forced herself not to show any of her dismay. Out of all the clients she had worked with during her career thus far, Mason Tucker was the only one who made her palms sweat and her stomach feel knotted with stress.

“Mr. Tucker. Um, hi.” She forced a smile, feeling awkward as hell and wishing she had waited until the contractor would be here to take a tour.

“I haven’t been here in weeks and wanted to document the progress that has been made since I visited last. I didn’t see any vehicles outside and assumed everybody was gone for the day.”

“I’m parked in the garage of the guesthouse.”

“I didn’t even know you were in town. Have you been here long?”

The last she knew, Mason had been living in Portland, where he had once played for the same baseball team as another town resident, Spencer Gregory, who was married to Sage’s friend Charlotte. Sage knew Spence and Mason had remained friends, despite life circumstances that had led to both of them retiring.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure Mason would reply, then he finally shrugged. “I wanted to be close as we started to wrap things up so I can keep an eye on things and be on hand if there are any questions or problems. My daughter and I moved into the guesthouse a month ago.”

Why hadn’t her dad or Sam Delgado told her Mason was already living in Hope’s Crossing?

Beyond that, she suddenly thought, how in the world was he making the guesthouse work? That place wasn’t at all wheelchair accessible, with three steps leading into the place, narrow hallways and no accessible bathroom like those she had designed for this main house.

Renovating the guesthouse was part of the master plan but not until all the work was finished on Wolf Ridge itself.

“That place is a mess. How are you getting around?”

“I’m managing,” he said, his voice curt. “I can still get around on crutches, as long as I don’t have to go far.”

“You shouldn’t have to go far, from one end of the guesthouse to the other. It’s tiny.” She imagined a man Mason’s size would make the space shrink to almost nothing.

“It works fine for me and Grace. It’s only a few more weeks anyway, right?”

“I suppose.”

Sam Delgado had assured her when they spoke earlier that the renovations to Wolf Ridge would be finished shortly before Christmas.

Sage had to admit, she wouldn’t be sorry to put the job behind her.

While she was thrilled with the way her designs had transformed the mountain estate, working with Mason Tucker himself was another story.

She tried to be compassionate. Whenever she grew frustrated with him, she would remind herself that Mason had endured the sort of tragedy that would have completely destroyed someone without his resilience. While she was only charged with renovating this house, Mason had to completely rebuild his life.

He had every right to be surly and uncooperative.

While she might know that intellectually, it was difficult to remember when she was dealing with yet another last-minute change order.

Still, he had superb taste and basically unlimited financial resources. In a few more weeks, when the job was finished, Wolf Ridge would meet his needs now and long into the future.

The home now featured a new indoor pool, spa and high-tech exercise room on the bottom level, two new elevators at either end of the house and heated floors throughout. Wolf Ridge also featured a kitchen that worked for people of any mobility level and wheelchair accessible bathrooms on each level, including the extensive owner’s suite on the second floor.

Sage loved everything about this house, from the skylights to the beams her dad had mentioned to the wider doorways and hallways. It was warm, luxurious, comfortable.

She wanted to show off her work to the world. The only trick would be convincing the intensely private Mason Tucker.

Faced with his glower now, Sage felt as if she faced a Herculean task.

She had to try, though, didn’t she?

Her fledgling internet show had exploded in popularity over the past year, allowing her foundation and personal pet project to help far more deserving people than she had ever envisioned.

Sage could only imagine the vast number of views—and thus ad revenue—a video featuring Wolf Ridge would bring in. People would love a glimpse inside the house redesigned for the reclusive and private Mason Tucker.

The public still clamored to know everything it could about the former professional athlete who had endured so much physical and emotional pain.

If she could showcase Wolf Ridge on the Homes for All internet channel, she would also bring awareness to some of the issues and obstacles noninclusive design presented to those with mobility challenges.

She drew in a breath, not sure where to start. Yes, he would likely slap her down but she wouldn’t know unless she asked, right?

“The progress while I’ve been overseas is amazing. I can’t believe how different everything looks, with the finish work and the new flooring.”

“Sam and his subs have put in some long hours.”

“It shows. And Jean-Paul tells me he’s going to have nearly all the furnishings ready to go in a few more weeks, except for a few custom pieces.”

“That’s what he tells me.”

“I can’t see any reason you and Grace can’t move in before Christmas. How exciting!”

A shrug was his only response, which she supposed was about as eloquent as Mason Tucker could be.

She stuck her hands into the pockets of her wool coat.

He was going to say no. She knew it and braced herself for it.

“There’s no easy way for me to ask you this so I’m going to come straight out with it.” She drew in a breath. “For the past year, I’ve hosted a YouTube channel, Homes for All, which features projects with the kind of innovative universal design elements we have tried to incorporate here at Wolf Ridge.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“While it’s called Homes for All, we feature commercial as well as residential projects. I hope to continue raising awareness of how limiting and even discriminatory some design practices can be for those who are, er, differently abled.”

He again said nothing, only continued to look at her out of those hard blue eyes that concealed his emotions completely.

“I have poured so much energy into Wolf Ridge, and I’m absolutely thrilled with the way the house has turned out. It’s everything I dreamed and more. I feel like more people should see it. Don’t you? I would absolutely love to feature your home on my channel.”

She held her breath, hands curled inside her pockets.

As she might have predicted, he didn’t leave her waiting long for his answer.

“Hell no,” he said with blunt finality, then turned away and started to roll back down the hall so abruptly she could only stare at him.

After a moment, she pursued him. This was too important to give up at the first obstacle. “Just like that? You don’t even want to hear the details?”

He paused and maneuvered to face her. “Why waste both our time? I don’t need to hear the details. Whatever you have to say doesn’t matter. My answer will remain a hard no.”

The man was impossible. Her grandfather Harry might have called him pigheaded, but Sage preferred the more diplomatic obstinate.

And yes, how could she blame him for that? Mason was trying to rebuild a life for himself and his daughter in Hope’s Crossing, away from the prying eyes of the tabloid press. She already knew he was an intensely private man. He had made her sign a nondisclosure agreement before even talking to her about what he wanted done at the house.

She might have been more surprised if he had agreed to let her feature his house on her channel.

Still, she had never been good at taking no for an answer. She could be every bit as pigheaded as Mason Tucker. She figured she had inherited that from Harry Lange himself.

“What I love most about your home is how seamlessly we have managed to integrate the new design into the existing structure without altering the basic style and grace of the home,” she said. “I’m sure you can agree that the changes will benefit everyone who lives here, not only you.”

“Sure,” he said after a moment. “You definitely know what you’re doing. The house is exactly what I wanted. That still doesn’t mean I want the whole world peering in at the transfer bars in the shower or the damn lift I need to use so I can get in and out of my spa.”

Sage was so caught up in the first part of what he said, the unexpected praise coming from her difficult client, that she almost missed the second part.

“That’s exactly what I try to showcase on my channel. When done right, universal design can blend with the overall style of a home or commercial property, small and sometimes barely noticeable changes but enough to make a huge difference to those who need them.”

“No,” he said again. “Judging by how seldom you’re here, you must have other projects. You can focus on those.”

“I have. You can watch the videos online. We have about thirty of them up now. But Wolf Ridge is the most ambitious residential renovation I’ve ever undertaken. Most people would never have poured the kind of resources you have into making such extensive changes to an existing structure. They would have sold the house as is and built a custom home somewhere else. Because of the location and the basic sound structure of the house, you chose to renovate instead. The results are beautiful, and I want the whole world to see it.”

“And I don’t,” he said bluntly. “I don’t need to give the whole damn world any more reasons to pity me.”

A muscle clenched along his jaw, and Sage felt immediately ashamed of herself for her selfishness at wanting to showcase her best work here.

Her motives weren’t completely selfish, she amended. Yes, she was proud of her work on Wolf Ridge. This project, more than any other she had been part of, might help her begin to emerge from her father’s huge and well-earned shadow.

It wasn’t easy being Jackson Lange’s daughter and trying to find her own way in the same field as one of the world’s most brilliant architectural minds.

That was the very reason she hadn’t taken Jack’s surname, even after they reconnected. She still went by Sage McKnight, the name she’d always had. She didn’t want to be known first as Jackson Lange’s daughter, with the weight of all those expectations on her. She wanted to succeed on her own.

Beyond that, she was doing good work with Homes for All. She knew she was making a difference in people’s lives, not only by changing minds about universal design but by changing lives.

Should she tell Jackson Lange that Homes for All was also the name of her foundation, funded by the ad revenue her videos generated online? The purpose was to help people who couldn’t otherwise afford to make necessary changes to their living spaces when age or health issues impacted mobility.

No. She didn’t want to guilt him into letting her invade his privacy by showcasing Wolf Ridge.

“Will you at least think about it?” she finally said. “You don’t have to decide anything right this moment.”

He shrugged. “I can think about it from now until Christmas. I won’t change my mind. My house, my decision. You can take all the pictures and video you want for your own personal use but if you post them online, I’ll sue your ass for breaking our nondisclosure agreement.”

He wheeled away without another word, leaving Sage to gaze after him with helpless frustration.

She hadn’t really expected any other answer, but she had hoped.

Her watch alarm dinged, and she glanced down at the reminder she had set. She was supposed to be at her mother’s bookstore and coffeehouse, Books & Brew, in ten minutes.

She quickly shot a few more images then walked back out into the December twilight.


Excerpted from All is Bright by RaeAnne Thayne. Copyright © 2022 by RaeAnne Thayne. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.


Thursday, December 16, 2021

SLEIGH BELLS RING BLOG TOUR


SLEIGH BELLS RING

Author: RaeAnne Thayne

ISBN: 9781335522443

Publication Date: October 26, 2021

Publisher: HQN Books


Buy Links: 

BookShop.org

Harlequin 

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

Powell’s 


Social Links:

Author Website

Facebook: @AuthorRaeAnneThayne

Instagram: @raeannethayne

Twitter: @raeannethayne

Goodreads




Author Bio: 



RaeAnne Thayne is the #1 Publishers Weekly, New York Times, and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than sixty books. Her books have been described as "poignant and sweet," with "beautiful, honest storytelling that goes straight to the heart." She finds inspiration from the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where she lives with her family.



Book Summary:


None of the Sheridan family members has visited the gorgeous Angel's View Ranch in the entire thirty months Annie McCade has been the caretaker of the property, and she has no reason to believe this holiday season will be any different. After all, why would they visit? Annie knows Wallace Sheridan, the family patriarch who hired her, loved it here but no one else in the family did. They couldn't face their dark memories of the place. Annie certainly understands their pain--when, as a child, she lived on the ranch, she saw a young and frantic Tate Sheridan come galloping out of the mountains,, looking for help for his severely injured father, who would later die from massive injuries. Since then,with the exception of Wallace, the whole remaining family couldn't get away fast enough.


And actually, Annie is grateful to have the place to herself--her ne'er-do-well brother got himself thrown in jail over the holidays, and she took temporary custody of her little niece and nephew for Christmas. Until Tate shows up and she unexpectedly hits him square in the face with a snowball! She worries that she is about to get fired, but Tate, after confronting the ghosts of his past, realizes he wants Annie to stay. His big family and their entourage are arriving the next day, and he can't manage them--and the big, echoing ranch house--without her.


So Tate has a brilliant idea. He tells her she and the kids can stay, through the holidays at least--if she agrees to pretend to be his long-lost love, to keep his busybody matchmaking grandmother off his back.


Annie is at first outraged by the suggestions and then intrigued. How hard could it be to pretend she and Tate have fallen for each other? He's gorgeous, after all--and some part of her heart had never forgotten their long-ago friendship. The trick, she realizes, will be convincing her heart during the magical holiday season that it's only make believe.





EXCERPT

1

THIS WAS WAR. A RELENTLESS, MERCILESS BATTLE for survival.

Backed into a corner and taking fire from multiple fronts, Annelise McCade launched missiles as fast as she could manage against her enemies. She was outnumbered. They had teamed up to attack her with agile cunning and skill.

At least it was a nice day for battle. The snow the night before hadn’t been particularly substantial but it had still left everything white and sparkly and the massive ranch house behind her was solid and comforting in the December afternoon sunlight. 

A projectile hit her square in the face, an icy splat against her skin that had her gasping. 

At her instinctive reaction, giggles rang out across the snowy expanse. She barely took time to wipe the cold muck off her cheek. “No fair, aiming for the face,” she called back. “That’s against the rules.”

“It was an accident,” her six-year-old nephew, Henry, admitted. “I didn’t mean to hit your face.” 

“You’ll pay for that one.” She scooped up several more balls as fast as she could manage and hurled them across the battlefield at Henry and his twin sister, Alice. 

“Do you give up?” she called. 

“Never!”

Henry followed up his defiance by throwing a snowball back at her. His aim wasn’t exactly accurate—hence her still-dripping face—but it still hit her shoulder and made her wince. 

“Never!” his twin sister, Alice, cried out. She had some difficulty pronouncing her Rs, so her declaration sounded like “Nevoh.” 

Alice threw with such force the effort almost made her spin around like a discus thrower in the Olympics. 

It was so good to hear them laughing. In the week since they had come to live with her temporarily, Annie had witnessed very little of this childish glee. 

Not for the first time, she cursed her brother and the temper he had inherited from their father and grandfather. If not for that temper, compounded by the heavy drinking that had taken over his life since his wife’s death a year ago, Wes would be here with the twins right now, throwing snowballs in the cold sunshine. 

Grief for all that these children had lost was like a tiny shard of ice permanently lodged against her heart. But at least they could put their pain aside for a few moments to have fun outside on a snowy December day. 

She might not be the perfect temporary guardian but it had been a good idea to make them come outside after homework for a little exercise and fresh air. 

She was doing her best, though she was wholly aware that she was only treading water. 

For now, this moment, she decided she would focus on gratitude. The children were healthy, they all had a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs and their father should be back home with them in less than a month. 

Things could be much, much worse. 

“Time out,” Henry gasped out during a lull in the pitched battle. “We gotta make more snowballs.” 

“Deal. Five-minute break, starting now.” 

Annie pulled her glove off long enough to set the timer on her smartwatch, then ducked behind the large landscape boulder she was using as cover and scooped up several snowballs to add to her stash. 

The sun would be going down in another hour and already the temperature had cooled several degrees. The air smelled like impending snow, though she knew only a dusting was forecast, at least until the following weekend. 

She didn’t worry. Holly Creek, Wyoming, about an hour south of Jackson Hole in the beautiful Star Valley, almost always had a white Christmas. 

Annie’s phone timer went off just as she finished a perfectly formed snowball. “Okay. Time’s up,” she called. Without standing up, she launched a snowball to where she knew the twins would be. 

An instant later, she heard a deep grunt that definitely did not sound like Henry or Alice. 

Annie winced. Levi Moran, the ranch manager, or his grizzled old ranch hand, Bill Shaw, must have wandered across the battlefield in the middle of a ceasefire without knowing he was about to get blasted. 

“Sorry,” she called, rising to her feet. “I didn’t mean to do that.” 

She saw a male figure approach, wearing sunglasses. The sun reflecting off the new snow was hitting his face and she couldn’t instantly identify him. 

“No doubt,” he said, wiping snow off his face with his sleeve. She frowned. This was definitely not Levi or Bill. 

He stepped closer and Annie felt as if an entire avalanche of snow had just crumbled away from the mountain and buried her. 

She knew this man, though it had been nearly two decades since Annie had seen him in person. 

It couldn’t be anyone else. 

Dark hair, lean, gorgeous features. Beneath those sunglasses, she knew she would find blue eyes the color of Bear Lake in summertime. 

The unsuspecting man she had just pummeled with a completely unprovoked snowball attack had to be Tate Sheridan. 

Her de facto boss. 

The twins had fallen uncharacteristically silent, wary of a tall, unsmiling stranger. Henry, she saw, had moved closer to his twin sister and slipped his hand in hers. 

Annie’s mind whirled trying to make sense of what she was seeing. 

Tate Sheridan. Here. After all this time. 

She shouldn’t be completely shocked, she supposed. It was his family’s house, after all. For many years when her father was the ranch manager, the Sheridans had trekked here annually from the Bay Area several times a year for the Christmas season, as well as most summers. 

His younger sister had been her very best friend in the world, until tragedy and pain and life circumstances had separated them. 

She had wondered when she agreed to take the job if she would see Tate again. She hadn’t truly expected to. She had worked here for nearly a year and he hadn’t once come to his grandfather’s Wyoming vacation ranch. 

How humiliating, that he would show up when she was in the middle of a snowball fight with her niece and nephew— who had no business being there in the first place! 

“What are you doing here?” she burst out, then winced. She wanted to drag the words back. It was his family’s property. He had every right to be there.

“I might ask the same of you. Along with a few more obvious questions, I suppose. Who are you and why are you having a snowball fight in the middle of my property?” 

“You don’t know who I am?” 

Of course he wouldn’t, she realized. And while she thought of him often, especially over the past year while living at Angel’s View once more, he probably had not given her a moment’s thought. 

“Should I?” 

It was stupid to feel a little hurt. “

Annelise McCade. My dad was Scott McCade.” 

He lifted his sunglasses, giving her an intense look. A moment later, she saw recognition flood his features. 

“Little Annie McCade. Wow. You’re still here, after all this time?” 

She frowned. He didn’t have to make it sound like she was a lump of mold growing in the back of the refrigerator. She had lived a full life in the nearly two decades since she had seen Tate in person. 

She had moved away to California with her mother, struggling through the painful transition of being a new girl in a new school. She had graduated from college and found success in her chosen field. She had even been planning marriage a year ago, to a man she hardly even thought about anymore. 

“Not really still here as much as here again. I’ve been away for a long time but returned a year ago. Wallace…your grandfather hired me to be the caretaker of Angel’s View.” 

She saw pain darken his expression momentarily, a pain she certainly shared. Even after two months, she still expected her phone to ring and Wallace Sheridan to be on the other end of the line, calling for an update on the ranch he loved. 

The rest of the world had lost a compelling business figure with a brilliant mind and a keen insight into human nature. 

Annie had lost a friend. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly. 

“Thank you.” His voice was gruff and he looked away, his gaze landing on the twins, who were watching their interaction with unusual solemnity. 

“Are these yours?” He gestured to the children and Annie was aware of a complex mix of emotions, both protectiveness and guilt. 

The children shouldn’t be here. She had never asked permission from anyone in the Sheridan family to have the twins move into the caretaker’s apartment with her. 

She deeply regretted the omission now. While it was a feeble defense, she hadn’t really known whom to ask. No one in the Sheridan organization seemed to be paying the slightest attention to any of the goings-on at a horse ranch in western Wyoming that represented only a small portion of the vast family empire. 

Annie knew she was in the wrong here. No matter what uproar might have been happening during Wallace’s illness and subsequent death, she should have applied to someone for permission to bring the twins to live with her here. 

Instead, she had simply assumed it shouldn’t be a problem since it was only a temporary situation and the children would be back with their father after the first of the year with no one in the family knowing they had been here at all. 

“Not mine. They are my niece and nephew. Wes’s children.” 

Tate and Wes were similar in age, she remembered, and had been friends once upon a time, just as Annelise had been close to Tate’s younger sister Brianna. The McCades lived on the ranch year-round while the Sheridan children only visited a few times a year, but somehow they had all managed to have a warm, close bond and could always pick up where they left off when the Sheridans came back to the ranch. 

She could only hope Tate would remember that bond and forgive her for overstepping and bringing the children here. 

“Henry and Alice are staying with me for a few weeks because of a…family situation.” 

“Our mommy died last year and our daddy is in the slammer,” Henry announced. 

Annie winced, not quite sure where he had picked up that particular term. Not from her, certainly. She wouldn’t have used those words so bluntly but couldn’t deny they were accurate. 

Tate looked nonplussed at the information. “Is that right?” 

“It’s only temporary,” she told him quickly. “Wes had a little run-in with the law and was sentenced to serve thirty days in the county jail. The children are staying with me in the caretaker’s apartment through the holidays. I hope that’s okay.” 

Tate didn’t seem to know how to respond. She had the impression it was very much not okay with him. 

“We can talk about it later.” 

Annie frowned, anxiety and nerves sending icy fingers down her spine. She didn’t like the sound of that. 

What would she do if he told her she had to find somewhere else for the children to spend Christmas? She would have to quit. She didn’t want do that as she enjoyed working here. But what other choice would she have? 

“Why don’t we, um, go inside,” she suggested. “We can talk more there.” 

“We won, right?” Alice pressed. “We hit you like six times and you only hit us twice each.” 

Her priority right now wasn’t really deciding who won a snowball fight. But then, she was not six years old. “You absolutely won.” 

“Yay! That means we each get two cookies instead of only one!” 

Annie had always planned to give them two cookies each, anyway. She was a sucker for these two. The twins knew this and took full advantage. 

“Kids, why don’t you go change out of your snow stuff and hang out in your room for a few moments,” she said when they were inside the mudroom. “I’ll be there soon to get your cookies.” 

The twins looked reluctant but they went straight to her apartment through her own private entrance, leaving her alone with Tate. 


Excerpted from Sleigh Bells Ring by RaeAnne Thayne. Copyright © 2021 by RaeAnne Thayne LLC. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.