Northern Kisses

By Laura Ashwood, Angie Wilder, Stacey Bryant and 2 more

Falling in love under the northern lights is romantic, but not always convenient...

Five stories; five strong women. Follow the journeys of Lindsay, Eve, Elle, Lila and Bailey as they endeavor to pursue their destinies. And even though love is the last thing on their minds, will they open their hearts to the men of their dreams along the way?

Second Chances by Laura Ashwood - She just wants to get away. He has a deadline to meet. Will being stranded together in a blizzard give them a second chance at love?

Merry Christmas, Eve by Stacey Bryant - He crushed her family business. She shouldn't be attracted to him.

Bitty Love by Beth Gildersleeve - They have a broken past. Can his love change her mind?

Guilty Beginnings by Angie Wilder - A flirty game of cat and mouse. She's a thief. He's FBI. What could go wrong?

A Kiss Under the Northern Lights by Rose Marie Meuwissen - When opposites attract, will a city-gal photographer risk her heart in the wild?

Download your copy today!

**These stories were previously published in Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights. They are a collection of short stories written by members of Northern Lights Writers, a Minnesota Chapter of RWA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Northern Lights Writers
• Release date: Nov 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393972600

Book preview

Table of Contents

Copyright

About Northern Lights Writers

Contents

Second Chances – By Laura Ashwood

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the Author

Merry Christmas, Eve – Stacey Bryant

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Bitty Love – Beth Gildersleeve

Bitty Love

About the Author

Guilty Beginnings – Angie Wilder

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

A Kiss Under the Northern Lights – Rose Marie Meuwissen

A Kiss Under the Northern Lights

About the Author

A note from the authors...

Northern Kisses

Digital Edition

Copyright 2019 by Laura Ashwood, Stacey Bryant, Beth Gildersleeve, Angie Wilder, Rose Marie Meuwissen

Northern Kisses is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Second Chances - Copyright © 2019 by Laura Ashwood

Merry Christmas, Eve - Copyright © 2019 by Stacey Bryant

Bitty Love - Copyright © 2019 by Beth Gildersleeve

Guilty Beginnings - Copyright © 2019 by Angie Wilder

A Kiss Under the Northern Lights - Copyright © 2019 by Rose Marie Meuwissen

Published in the United States of America

Cover Design by Michele Hauf

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About Northern Lights Writers

Northern Lights Writers was formed in 2002 and is a chapter of Romance Writers of America. This creative and prolific group of women reside in Minnesota and Canada. Their mission is to advance the professional interests of career-focused writers through networking, information, and education, and to provide continuing support for writers within the romance publishing industry.

Since 2010, the group has collaborated on several anthologies. Their first publication, Romance and Mystery Under the Northern Lights, is still available in eBook and print. Their second and third anthologies (Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights, Volume 1 and 2) have been revamped into three new eBooks, Northern Intrigue, Northern Kiss and Northern Seduction.

For more information on the group and our publications, sign-up for our seasonal newsletter here: NLW Seasonal Newsletter

Contents

By Laura Ashwood

Second Chances

Stacey Bryant

Merry Christmas, Eve

Beth Gildersleeve

Bitty Love

Angie Wilder

Guilty Beginnings

Rose Marie Meuwissen

A Kiss Under the Northern Lights

A note from the authors...

Second Chances

By Laura Ashwood

Lindsey Harper is having a very bad week and it’s about to get worse. After her boyfriend, make that ex-boyfriend, takes someone else on their vacation, all Lindsey wants is to spend a few days alone at the family cabin. When her car gets stranded in the snow on her way there, the last person she expected to see coming to her rescue was Ryan Ford. She had fallen for him when she was a teenager, and after he broke her heart she vowed to never see him again.

Ryan Ford was looking forward to spending a few days at his best friend, Logan Harper’s family cabin. He had a deadline to meet and the solitude was just what he needed. When he gets a call that Logan’s little sister is lost in the snow storm, he has no choice but to find her. Only she’s not so little anymore.

Forced to spend the night at the cabin, will they get a second chance at love?

Chapter 1

~ Lindsey ~

I

shoved one last pair of thick socks into my black hard-side suitcase, slammed the lid shut and yanked the zipper around to close it. So I told him, ‘Have fun, Dean, I hope you step on a jellyfish and get a drink umbrella lodged in your a—’

Whoa! Take it easy. I know you’re upset but it’s bad karma to wish bodily harm on someone.

I know, Hannah. I just can’t help it. I’m supposed to be two margaritas deep on a white sandy beach right now, not packing my snow boots to go up north to the cabin!

Hannah tilted her head and let out an exasperated sigh, Forget him!

Her short black hair framed her bright blue eyes and petite features perfectly. She was supposed to be taking me to the airport on her way to her fiancé’s parents’ house in Mankato for the week. She’d been dating Seth since high school and they were getting married in June.

We were assigned roommates our first year in college at the University of Wisconsin and had been inseparable ever since. After graduation, we moved to Minneapolis and shared a cute little apartment in a turn of the century craftsman home that had been converted into a four-plex. It was quaint and full of vintage charm with its hardwood flooring, wide trim, and many built-ins. My favorite thing about living here was that it was across the street from Lake Calhoun, and within walking distance of the vibrant Uptown area. Hannah and I both worked downtown as paralegals, but in different law firms. We loved walking around Uptown when we got home from work to grab a bite to eat at one of the many eclectic eateries or go window shopping at the indie boutiques that lined Lake Street.

We’ve been planning this trip for two months! It’s the one thing that got me through working all that overtime for the last couple of weeks, knowing the beaches of Jamaica were waiting for us. And then he goes and dumps me the day before we’re supposed to leave and runs off on our vacation with his new secretary. I mean really, could he be any more cliché?

I tore my fingers through my shoulder-length hair and yanked it up into a ponytail, wrapping it in a bright pink scrunchie. Plopping down on the edge of my bed, I gazed out the window. I could see a few young skaters with colorful hats and jackets playing tag on the ice skating rink across the street on the lake.

I was really looking forward to this trip, Hannah, I said softly. I needed this vacation, this break. That was an understatement. I swiped at the tear on my face with the side of my fist.

Hannah turned toward me and lay her hand on my arm. Dean’s an arrogant jerk that doesn’t deserve your tears, sweetie. You know, I never really liked him anyway. You can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming though, can you? she said matter-of-factly. I mean, you told me yourself you thought he had wandering eyes.

Maybe, I mumbled. Hannah was right, of course. She usually was, and she wasn’t afraid to call it like she saw it.

Dean Benson was a first-year associate attorney at the law office where I worked. I’d met him last summer at our company gathering when we ended up sitting next to each other on the dinner cruise. We worked on different floors of our building, so it wasn’t surprising that we hadn’t crossed paths before that night. He was smart and handsome and charming, but if I had to be honest with myself, Dean was not a great boyfriend. He had forgotten my birthday, was awful at returning phone calls, and had a terrible habit of flirting with the waitresses when we would dine out. I had seen his shortcomings and tried to convince myself he didn’t really mean to be callous...but he was.

Dean had been working late more than usual and was unusually brief, the few times I had been able to reach him, while I had been gone to see my parents for Christmas. He had just hired a very pretty, very blonde leggy secretary. From what I heard around the water cooler at work, she was looking for more than just a paycheck. She’d set her sights on him and he had apparently decided to move on to blonder pastures.

Honestly, I really wasn’t sure what I was more upset about: our breakup or losing out on white sandy beaches and a much- needed break from work. The truth was I gave my heart away a long time ago, had it broken, and never really got it back. Dean had never stood a chance.

I think you’re crazy for wanting to go to the cabin though, it’s supposed to snow. A lot. Are you sure about this?

Hannah’s question brought me out of my reverie. Yes. I just need to get away from...everything, and if I can’t go to Jamaica – the cabin has always been my favorite place to be. Even in winter.

I loved the cabin. It was about two hours north of Minneapolis on Pinecone Lake. I’d spent countless hours there over the years, fishing and swimming in the lake during the summer and cross-country skiing on it in the winter. It was my home away from home.

Besides, the snow isn’t supposed to come until late tonight. I’ll be fine. Gretch hasn’t let me down yet. Gretch was my sage green 2010 VW Beetle. I got her in high school and although I could afford a car payment now, I couldn’t bring myself to trade her in.

Will Logan be up there? Hannah asked.

My brother Logan was five years older than me, and we had always been very close. Now that our parents were officially snow birds, we’d traveled together to their winter home in Mesa, Arizona to spend Christmas with them. I had flown back by myself the day after Christmas to take care of some last- minute stuff at work before I was supposed to leave on my vacation.

I shook my head. No, he stayed with Mom and Dad for the rest of the holidays. He’s coming home next week.

And he’s okay with you going up there alone? Hannah looked skeptical.

I haven’t said anything yet. I don’t need my mom lamenting about never having grandkids, and you know how Logan gets. I rolled my eyes. He’d likely end up tracking Dean down in Jamaica and I can only imagine how that would turn out. Not that I’d blame him.

That might actually be worth the phone call, Hannah chortled. Come with me to Mankato! Seth won’t care. I don’t like the idea of you going there by yourself, Lindsey. It’s so freaking remote.

And exactly what I need right now. Some time alone to think and regroup. I’ll be fine, I’ve been up there by myself before. And besides, you have all that wedding planning to do with Seth’s mom and sister, and I’m sure they’ll want you all to themselves. Grinning, I nudged her with my elbow and stood up.

Yeah, tell me about it, she laughed. But you’re right, we do have a ton of stuff to get finalized this week and I still need to convince his mother that we do not need to have bows on the bridesmaid dresses. She is going to be the death of me by the time this is done, I swear.

One more reason I don’t’ need to be there, I smiled, hefting my suitcase off the bed and walking out of my room and down the stairs to the front door.

Okay, okay. You win, but you have to make sure you call me the minute you get there.

Yes, Mother, I laughed as I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. I appreciated her concern, but really needed some time to myself. I was looking forward to drowning my sorrows in front of the fire, watching sappy movies with my bottle of rum.

Chapter 2

~ Ryan ~

"Y

ou sure it’s ok if I use the cabin then? I asked. Absolutely, I’m still down in Arizona with the folks, and Lindsey should just about be landing in Jamaica. Enjoy man, and get that book done!" My best friend, Logan Harper, clicked off the line.

Lindsey was his younger sister and had been almost like a sister to me, almost. I hadn’t seen her since Logan and I graduated from college, and that was almost eight years ago. She’d been about sixteen at the time and it had actually been at the cabin, come to think of it. She’d been such a tomboy when I’d met her, always on our heels. Just a kid really, and we’d taken to calling her Tagalong. The last time I saw her though, she was anything but. Way too hot for a sixteen-year- old and way off-limits to me, for a handful of reasons.

Putting those thoughts aside, I finished loading up my truck and made the two-hour drive from my small apartment in St. Louis Park to Pinecone Lake. It had started snowing lightly while I was driving, and I was grateful I arrived before the storm hit. The meteorologists were expecting a blizzard and had been talking about nothing else for the last few days. There was even talk this one could rival the great Halloween Blizzard of ’91.

Pulling up to the end of the long driveway, I could see the snow was really starting to come down and created a postcard- like backdrop to the large cedar-sided cabin. I lifted my brown leather duffel bag out of the back seat of my black pickup truck and swung the door shut with my elbow. The truck had been a high school graduation gift from my mom and I appreciated the four-wheel drive in the winter months.

The boughs on the trees surrounding the cabin were already thick with the fluffy white stuff and my boots left tracks on the path to the small deck on the front of the cabin. Next to the door were three clay pots that would contain vibrantly colored flowering plants come summer. I carefully lifted the middle pot out of its clay drain tray, picked up the key I knew was hidden underneath, and let myself in.

The Harper’s cabin was like a second home to me. I’d been coming here with Logan since I was a teenager. Mom and I had moved to Willow Creek when I was fourteen, and the Harper’s house was right across the street from our apartment building. Logan had been outside when we were unpacking our rented moving van and came over to check out my skateboard. We’d been best friends ever since. Mom was a lot older than most of my friends’ parents were, and my dad split when I was eight. Being an only child of a parent that liked her house very quiet, it was only natural that I spent a lot of time at the Harper house playing ball in the backyard or video games in their basement.

They brought me with them whenever they went to the cabin, and it had become a special place to me for many reasons.

After college, I began going to the cabin during the holiday breaks from my teaching job to write. I always felt inspired up here, and it was a lot quieter than my apartment. While I loved living in the city, the constant traffic noise and sounds of people going in and out of my building was distracting when I was trying to focus. Several years later I wasn’t teaching anymore, but still came up here after the holidays every year to work on my latest novel and relax. Logan’s parents now spend their winters in Arizona and had graciously given me full access to their cabin whenever I needed to escape.

By some standards, the cabin was quite large and more like a second home than a cabin. There were three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a large great room that connected to an eat-in kitchen. It was simply, but tastefully decorated in typical Minnesota cabin décor – bears and pine trees. It hadn’t changed much since the first time I was here. Checking to make sure there were enough logs in the wood box to last through the rest of the day, I pulled out some kindling and lit a fire in the stone fireplace in the great room. The orange glow warmed the room immediately, and I went back outside to bring in my groceries and my old electric typewriter. I preferred to type my first draft on an IBM Selectric, much to my editor’s chagrin. There was just something extremely tactile about typing on a typewriter, and it held a certain sentimental charm for me.

I set about storing my supplies and getting my bags unpacked in the bedroom that Logan and I always shared. The twin beds were still set end to end like they were when we were younger, so we could talk late into the night without disturbing his parents. Smiling at the memory, I moved into the kitchen and stacked two reams of paper next to my typewriter on the sturdy wooden table and set out my notebooks and pens. I wheeled the ergonomic desk chair out of the corner and up to the table. I had brought the chair up here last summer, and it made long writing sessions so much easier. Grabbing a cold bottle of beer from the refrigerator, I settled into my chair and began writing.

Chapter 3

~ Lindsey ~

B

y the time I’d loaded up Gretch, stopped for my requisite road trip vanilla latte at Caribou Coffee, and made my way through the traffic and out of the cities, the snow had already started falling. The farther north I got, the harder it fell. Even though it was still daylight, the driving snow made seeing further than about fifty feet in front of me next to impossible.

Traffic, what little there was on the Interstate, was barely crawling. I make out the red glow of brake lights ahead, but the visibility was so limited I couldn’t