A Magical Christmas. Elizabeth Rolls
magazine
‘Full of romance and sparkle’
—Lovereading
‘Sarah Morgan continues to hang out on my autobuy list and each book of hers that I discover is a treat.’
—Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
‘Morgan is a magician with words.’
—RT Book Reviews
‘Dear Ms Morgan, I’m always on the lookout for a new book by you…’
—Dear Author blog
SARAH MORGAN is the bestselling author of Sleigh Bells in the Snow. As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.
Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading, Sarah enjoys music, movies and any activity that takes her outdoors.
Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.
From the moment I first introduced Tyler O’Neil in Sleigh Bells in the Snow, I was looking forward to telling his story. I know from my e-mails that lots of readers are eagerly waiting to read about him, mostly because we all love a reformed bad boy!
Since the injury that ended his career as a medal-winning downhill skier, Tyler has been helping with the family business at Snow Crystal, Vermont. He is a single father, raising his teenage daughter, Jess, a situation that brings its own challenges for a man used to putting himself first. He’s had plenty of relationships, but the only woman whom has been a constant in his life is Brenna, who he has known since childhood. Brenna’s feelings go way beyond friendship, but she knows Tyler doesn’t see her that way. Or does he?
Tyler’s story is a romance, but it also explores love in its widest sense and what it means to be a father, a son, a brother, a lover and a friend. Sometimes when I’m writing a story it takes me a while to work out the exact details of the final chapter, but with Maybe This Christmas I knew right away how I wanted this book to end and writing it felt wonderful.
If you ask a writer to pick their favourite book, they will usually tell you they love them all equally and that’s exactly what I’d say if you asked me that question, but if I did have a favourite, then Maybe This Christmas would be right up there at the top of my list. I hope you love it too.
Sarah xx
PS Don’t forget to visit my website and sign up to my mailing list to be sure never to miss a new book release!
www.sarahmorgan.com Twitter @SarahMorgan_ Facebook/AuthorSarahMorgan
To my parents, who taught me the importance of family
Thanks, hugs and kisses go to my talented editor, Flo Nicoll, who has worked with me on all three O’Neil Brother books and sprinkled her own special brand of editorial magic over each story. Thanks also to HQN Books in the US and Harlequin UK for all their hard work in putting this series into the hands of readers and to my agent, Susan Ginsburg, for her invaluable advice and input.
Right from the start I knew how I wanted Maybe This Christmas to end. I’m indebted to Alison Kaiser, Town Clerk from Stowe, Vermont for her guidance on the marriage licence laws in the state of Vermont and for her patience in answering my many questions as I tried to find a way to make my dream ending a reality.
The process of writing this series has frequently slipped into family time and without the endless support and encouragement from my husband and two sons I would have starved and been found buried under several months’ worth of laundry. They are nothing short of brilliant (and I mean that even though they washed a red sock with my white shirt).
I owe the biggest debt of gratitude to my readers, who continue to buy my books, thus ensuring I can continue with my dream job, writing them. Thank you. You’re the best.
Sarah
xxx
TYLER O’NEIL STOMPED the snow off his boots, pushed open the door of his lakeside home and tripped over a pair of boots and a jacket abandoned in the hallway.
Slamming his hand against the wall, he regained his balance and cursed. “Jess?” There was no response from his daughter, but Ash and Luna, his two Siberian huskies, bounded out of the living room. Cursing under his breath, he watched in exasperation as both dogs cannoned toward him. “Jess? You left the door to the living room open again. The dogs aren’t supposed to be in there. Come down here right now and pick up your coat and boots! Do not jump up—I’m warning you—” He braced himself as Ash sprang. “Why does no one listen to me around here?”
Luna, the more gentle of the two dogs, put her paws on his chest and tried to lick his face.
“Nice to know my word is law.” But Tyler rubbed her ears gently, burying his fingers in her thick fur as Jess emerged from the kitchen, a piece of toast in one hand and her phone in the other, head nodding in time to music as she pushed headphones away from her ears. She was wearing one of his sweaters, and the gold medal he’d won for the downhill dangled around her neck.
“Hi, Dad. How was your day?”
“I made it through alive until I stepped through my own front door. I’ve skied off cliffs safer than our hallway.” Glowering at her, Tyler pushed the ecstatic dogs away and nudged the abandoned snow boots to one side with his foot. “Pick those up. And leave your boots on the porch from now on. You shouldn’t be wearing them indoors.”
Still chewing, Jess stared at his feet. “You’re wearing your boots indoors.”
Not for the first time, Tyler reflected on the challenges of parenting. “New rule. I’ll leave mine outside, too. That way we don’t get snow in the house. And hang your coat up instead of dropping it over any convenient surface.”
“You drop yours.”
Holy hell. “I’m hanging it up. Watch me.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up with exaggerated purpose. “And turn the music down. That way you’ll be able to hear me when I’m yelling at you.”
She grinned, unabashed. “I turn it up so I can’t hear you yelling at me. Grandma just sent me a text all in capitals. You need to teach her how to use her phone.”
“You’re the teenager. You teach her.”
“She texted me in capitals all last week, and the week before that she kept dialing Uncle Jackson by accident.”
Tyler, entertained