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Authors: Rhian Cahill
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they could go to so he could steal a kiss. He still hadn’t worked out he didn’t need to steal them, but she wasn’t about to enlighten the man. She couldn’t think of anything better than having over twenty-four hours of New Years kisses with Wade.
ISBN: 978-0-85799-005-1
Title: New Year’s Kisses
Copyright © 2012 by Rhian Cahill
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. NSW, Australia, 2067.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
® and ™ are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and are used under license to the Publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in Australia, New Zealand, the United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Excerpt from Christmas Wishes by Rhian Cahill
The squeak of brakes and the blare of a horn told Dean he was out of time.
“Shit.”
Dean opened the top drawer of his dresser where empty space greeted him. The second drawer proved no better. Frowning, he spun around in search of his laundry bag.
“Shit.” He’d forgotten to pick it up at the Laundromat yesterday.
The horn blasted again.
Dean tugged a clean pair of jeans from their hanger and stepped into them. In spite of the summer heat, shorts weren’t a good idea seeing how he’d be swinging in the breeze and the last thing he wanted was a wayward little kid’s hand finding its way up his pant leg. Hopefully the bulk of his time would be spent inside the daycare center where the air conditioning would be pumping out cool air. A longer horn blast sounded as his watch beeped.
“Shit!”
Dean grabbed a t-shirt and shoved his feet into runners as he rushed from the room. He picked up his wallet and keys as he passed the kitchen counter, but lost his grip on both when he flung open the front door. On the fly, he exited the house while his wallet and keys flew back inside a second before the door slammed shut.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He spun around to stare at the locked door.
Behind him, Talli tooted her horn again. Dean looked skyward. This day was going from bad to worse. And for the first time in history, Tallitha Jarmen wasn’t running late.
Dean unlocked his fingers and let go of the oh-shit handle in Talli’s car. She wasn’t a good driver at the best of times, add in some heavy traffic due to the Christmas rush and a deadline that meant kids would be disappointed if she didn’t show up, and Talli was downright dangerous.
“Jesus. We’ll be lucky if we get there in one piece,” he mumbled under his breath.
“I heard that.” She swung the wheel to the left and he grabbed the handle again. “As much as you dig at my driving, I’ve never had an accident that was my fault you know.”
Dean snorted. “Might not have been by the law, but woman, you’re like an oil spill. Get just a little too close and the shit hits the fan.”
“Just for that you can walk home,” she huffed.
He laughed. “Now where have I heard that one before…?”
Talli looked away from the road long enough to poke her tongue out and give him heart failure.
“Watch the damn road, woman!”
“I’m watching, I’m watching.” He cringed as she zipped around a slow car without indicating.
ISBN: 978-0-85799-005-1
Title: New Year’s Kisses
Copyright © 2012 by Rhian Cahill
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. NSW, Australia, 2067.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
® and ™ are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and are used under license to the Publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in Australia, New Zealand, the United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Excerpt from Christmas Wishes by Rhian Cahill
The squeak of brakes and the blare of a horn told Dean he was out of time.
“Shit.”
Dean opened the top drawer of his dresser where empty space greeted him. The second drawer proved no better. Frowning, he spun around in search of his laundry bag.
“Shit.” He’d forgotten to pick it up at the Laundromat yesterday.
The horn blasted again.
Dean tugged a clean pair of jeans from their hanger and stepped into them. In spite of the summer heat, shorts weren’t a good idea seeing how he’d be swinging in the breeze and the last thing he wanted was a wayward little kid’s hand finding its way up his pant leg. Hopefully the bulk of his time would be spent inside the daycare center where the air conditioning would be pumping out cool air. A longer horn blast sounded as his watch beeped.
“Shit!”
Dean grabbed a t-shirt and shoved his feet into runners as he rushed from the room. He picked up his wallet and keys as he passed the kitchen counter, but lost his grip on both when he flung open the front door. On the fly, he exited the house while his wallet and keys flew back inside a second before the door slammed shut.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He spun around to stare at the locked door.
Behind him, Talli tooted her horn again. Dean looked skyward. This day was going from bad to worse. And for the first time in history, Tallitha Jarmen wasn’t running late.
Dean unlocked his fingers and let go of the oh-shit handle in Talli’s car. She wasn’t a good driver at the best of times, add in some heavy traffic due to the Christmas rush and a deadline that meant kids would be disappointed if she didn’t show up, and Talli was downright dangerous.
“Jesus. We’ll be lucky if we get there in one piece,” he mumbled under his breath.
“I heard that.” She swung the wheel to the left and he grabbed the handle again. “As much as you dig at my driving, I’ve never had an accident that was my fault you know.”
Dean snorted. “Might not have been by the law, but woman, you’re like an oil spill. Get just a little too close and the shit hits the fan.”
“Just for that you can walk home,” she huffed.
He laughed. “Now where have I heard that one before…?”
Talli looked away from the road long enough to poke her tongue out and give him heart failure.
“Watch the damn road, woman!”
“I’m watching, I’m watching.” He cringed as she zipped around a slow car without indicating.
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