Snow Angel

By Dee Ellis

Crystal Cove is where all your wishes come true.

For Kris Nichols, he's hoping that's more than the tag-line on the quaint sign welcoming you to the picturesque town. He believes in romance--he has to since he writes it for a living. This holdiay, he hopes to finally find his own happily ever after outside of the pages of his romance novels.

Emma Snow might be a real life angel. Besides being sexy and sweet, something about her makes him think of devilish deeds. After a year of falling for each other, will this Christmas finally bring them the gift they both want?

Love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dee Ellis
• Release date: Jan 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370579051

Dee Ellis

Born and raised in the Midwest, reading and writing have always been Dee's passion. Short stories became long stories that finally, became books. While playing grownup during the day, meaning working a job, Dee wrote her first book. When not reading or writing, which leaves less time than she's proud of, Dee loves spending her time with her four furbabies, her husband and lots of movies nights.

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By Dee Ellis

Snow Angel by Dee Ellis

© 2017 by Dee Ellis. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

Cover Design: Dee Ellis

Interior Design: Dee Ellis

Publisher: Hummingbird Press

Printed in the U.S.A

Chapter One

Kris

I love the snow. Most people loath it and prepare for it as if it’s an apocalyptic event. As a boy growing up in Texas, I saw snow maybe once. After coming to the Midwest for college, where we get all four seasons in all their spring, autumn and summery glory, I still love winter the most. Perhaps because I love the holidays.

Most guys hate to shop, hate to think of other people first; we’re raised to be selfish jerks. I could have ended up the same way, actually. I was given grand Christmases that held empty meanings. But now, I love the holiday despite that. Maybe even more due to that.

Santa may not be real, but the spirit of the holiday never changed for me. I love the whole shebang. The lights and the parades, the cheesy Christmas shows, and the bustle of holiday shoppers. In fact, I don’t even mind the carolers. The first time I had a group of kids singing outside my door, I was in college. Now I look forward to the groups with their uneven voices and smiling faces.

Really just one smiling face in particular. Emma.

Last Christmas her church group stood singing at my door for twenty minutes. I dumped almost two-hundred dollars into their donation bin and my eyes never left her face. Emma Snow is fucking perfection. An angel.

With creamy skin, whisky brown eyes, and glistening black hair that flows all the way to her perfect ass, she’s more than perfection. I was absolutely blown away by the light in her beautiful eyes and the bright smile on her sexy lips.

I tried to catch her before they left but that donation plate was in my face and she giggled when I dropped my entire stack of cash inside it. That fucking laugh. Jesus Christ, it haunted me for weeks.

Then I heard it again. In my hallway. By my hallway, I don’t just mean the hallway of the condo I live in. It’s in fact, my condo. With six apartments it’s the first thing I did with my money. It is in the center of town, close to the shops, the college, and the building itself is superb.

I don’t run the day to day, of course. That’s my only excuse for not realizing that the most perfect woman I have ever seen not only rents one of my apartments, but also lives on my floor.

The night I heard her giggle, I was in the midst of writing. Or, well, trying to write. I graduated with an English degree that as of then had yet to prove its worth. A writer with no voice. During college, I had no problem writing for assignments, and the work was well received. Writing creatively for fun—that was a different story. Literally.

That fucking giggle had me excited and hard as a rock. I had nearly torn my door from its hinges in an attempt to catch her. Just to find her plump ass in my face as she bent to pick up the groceries she had scattered all over the floor. I rushed to help; puzzled that she had more than one of almost everything. Emma smiled up at me as I crouched to help.

"I’m clumsy as shit!" Emma had introduced herself as we gathered her groceries, both of us on our knees.

Which did nothing to chase away the throbbing in my dick. I watched her fuss with her groceries, stuffing everything into the canvas totes she carried it all in. Then our hands tangled as we both reached for a package of salmon. I could never forget. Salmon. The charge that shot through me as her tiny fingers pressed into my skin nearly set me on my ass.

Emma felt it too.

I know because I saw her creamy skin flush and the pulse at her neck leap. Fuck, I wanted to shove her thick hair out of my way and suck at that pulse. Feel it throb and jump as I touched the sweetness between her legs. I moved towards her without recognizing it. We were still on our knees, Emma tucked between mine, and I was fucking mesmerized.

I could feel the swell of her perfect breasts against my chest. The thin sweater she wore—pink with silver snowflakes, how could I forget that—did nothing to conceal her pebbled nipples. My hand came up, skimming down the line of her throat. Jesus Christ, she was as soft as satin. My cock leapt to life, and I realized I was angling over her, my eyes on her full, bee-stung lips. I was going to kiss her.

Except, I didn’t.

Because the elevator behind us opened. It seemed so loud in the quiet. We had been silent, just our heartbeats and heavy breathing filling the hall. Emma let out a little noise and I growled at the intrusion because I needed to taste her. Those lips, that slender neck and the nipples that were hard and aching to be teased. All of her.

"Thanks, Kris."

She knew me!

The moment passed when a few girls who were clearly her friends joined us in the hall. I barely made it into my place before my hand was around my dick. I came seconds later, her giggle filling my head and her name on my lips.

I come often when I remember those first moments. Or the many she’s given me over the last eleven months. Moments in the hallway. In the elevator. I know what she smells like and how soft her skin is because I touch her whenever I can. I use any excuse I can to reach out to her; to help her with groceries, chat in the hall, even press close on the elevator.

I am fucking obsessed with Emma Snow.

I know she’s a photographer who works for the local paper. I also know she isn’t close to her family, who live in Chicago. I sense definite tension whenever I ask about them. Because, I always ask.

I ask her all sorts of things. What music she likes, the type of movies she enjoys, and who she likes to read. I know she’s single. I watched the men that came and went for dates like a fucking creep. Those dates stopped long ago—a fact that pleases me.

Emma is going to be mine.

Since I met her, I have been writing like mad. The woman gives me inspiration. I hadn’t finished a single piece before that first encounter in the hall. Now, I’ve completed four books and published two since. I am crazy about her and, I think, she knows it. I think she maybe even feels