Holiday Hope

By Libby Campbell

Holiday Hope

Some weddings bring hope. Some bring disaster.

The holidays are just around the corner. On top of the usual seasonal busyness, the exclusive Halsey Club is preparing for one of the most elite weddings of the year.

Unaware of the gala event, Hannah Hansen lives a quiet life. She only wants one thing this Christmas: someone to share her life. She’s not asking for the hottest male model, but please Santa, could he be a bit alpha? Sensitive new age guys make great friends, but men who are decisive and slightly bossy make her tingle all over.

Charles Descôteaux fits Hannah’s wish list on all points, but he’s about to exchange vows with the haughty Abigail Barrington.

On a wet wintry night just before Christmas, Saint Denis Cathedral echoes with the happy chatter of the invited guests. When Hannah wanders in, soaked to the skin and utterly miserable, she isn’t the only one with cold feet.

Disclaimer: Holiday Hope is an erotic romance that includes sexual scenes and spanking of an adult woman. If these elements do not appeal to you, please do not read this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Libby Campbell
• Release date: Oct 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781999552428

Libby Campbell

My romance novels feature strong, self-reliant women and the powerful men who love them. Romantic by nature, I write the stories I want to read: those that feature a spicy power exchange and deliver a sting in the tale.Canadian by birth, I also lived in Australia for a couple of decades. While living there I overcame my aversion to saucer-sized spiders and, as a condition of marriage to my Aussie Prince Charming, I swore a lifelong allegiance to the Melbourne Football Club.Then family called and my husband and I packed up and moved. We now live on a rocky island on Canada’s West Coast, close to beaches that once were frequented by smugglers and rumrunners.My passions are reading and writing. I adore all animals and love hiking, beachcombing, and an occasional night of dancing.

Book preview

Holiday Hope

HOLIDAY HOPE

LIBBY CAMPBELL

UNTITLED

HOLIDAY HOPE

by

Libby Campbell

© Libby Campbell 2019

ISBN 978-1-9995524-2-8

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales, is purely coincidental.

Version 1.1 – slightly revised text and new cover November 2022

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information and retrieval systems, without permission from the author, other than short excerpts for the purposes of review, discussion, or promotion.

Disclaimer: Holiday Hope is a sweet, erotic romance intended for mature readers with a taste for extra spice. Some scenes include spanking and are sexually explicit. These are fantasies and may not appeal to all readers. If you like a sweeter romance, please don’t read this novella.

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To the lovely Mary Ann.

This story was written for you.

CONTENTS

1. The dog park

2. Getting ready

3. Date night

4. Stormy weather

5. Changing places

6. Sacrificial lamb

7. Party on

8. Truth telling

9. Home sweet home

10. Leaving a mark

11. Lost

12. Miracle man

Old fashioned values

His to Hold Series

Without Mercy – An exciting mystery series!

The Lighthouses of Devmaer series

Tales of Devmaer: Novellas attached to The Lighthouses of Devmaer series:

Bad Girls Grumpy Bosses

Other books by Libby Campbell:

Connect with Libby Campbell:

Libby Campbell in her own words:

1

THE DOG PARK

Dawn was breaking as Hannah and her little white dog Henry arrived for their morning walk along the trail beside Dallas Beach. Canada’s westernmost city of Victoria was waking up. In the early morning chill, a parade of people and pets, with blinking holiday lights hanging from their collars, coats, and leashes, gave the waterfront park the festive air of a Christmas parade.

A heavy frost had settled overnight, and dogs puffed wispy clouds of condensation as they chased and ran along the path. Hannah said hi to the people whose names she always forgot and fed tiny treats to the dogs whose names and life stories she could recite at will.

Maybe somewhere in that parade is the man of my dreams, Hannah thought.

Ha, she muttered. This had been her morning walk for a couple of years. Women dog walkers outnumbered men by two to one. But it was almost Christmas, and everyone knew magic happened at this time of year. All she had to do was hope and believe. Only she’d have to hope extra hard to find a man to make her pulse race. She needed a strong man, one strong enough to enjoy a challenge like her.

At the end of their dawdling walk, she offered Henry a piece of dried salmon. As he sat waiting for her to deliver it, a familiar white head with a big black patch over one eye pushed up beside her. The dog tried to snatch the food.

No! she said strictly, recognizing the bull terrier who belonged to the one person she always welcomed on her walk. Especially on a day like today when she was on her own.

Sweetie, sit. A man’s deep voice commanded from behind her.

Hannah’s heart flipped as she turned to face Steve. Hi. She smiled, thankful she’d put on lipstick before leaving the house. Steve was one of the few men who sometimes joined the morning ritual.

Her smile widened. I see you’re still working on Sweetie’s manners.

Her breath caught at the sight of his smoky grey eyes and strong chin. His easy confidence and quick smile made her pulse race, as always.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he pulled off his ear buds and clipped a leash on Sweetie’s collar. Sit, he repeated. His chest was heaving and, given how hard Sweetie was panting, they were obviously on the cool down part of their morning routine. Steve only slowed to a walk after taking his pack for a long run.

As Sweetie waited, his eyes fixed on the treat in Hannah’s hand, two cream-colored French bulldogs raced up and sat beside him. The three dogs panted in unison as if they had synchronized their breathing.

May I? Hannah asked Steve, nodding at his dogs.

For sure, but feed Sweetie last. He’s got to learn. Steve’s voice was firm, authoritative. A shiver ran down Hannah’s spine.

The bulldogs scarfed down their bits of salmon before rushing off to check out a tree that Henry was sniffing already.

I love Sweetie’s face. She didn’t say that Sweetie’s long pointy snout and sloping head sent a chill over her, and not the good type of a chill. Sometimes when she petted him, he mouthed her hand gently. He never hurt her, but she didn’t like the sensation of having her hand caught between his sharp teeth, even for a second. But she’d been in amateur theater and improv classes since her early teens and knew how to play to her audience. So, as Steve watched, she demonstrated a confidence she didn’t feel with his energetic dog.

Sweetie’s tail wagged once slowly. When Hannah offered him a treat from the palm of her hand, he licked it off gently. Then Steve unclipped his leash and he was gone.

Hannah began walking again and Henry raced ahead. When he reached the path that led to home, he stopped to wait for her. Steve fell into step beside her with his dogs trotting behind, weary from their run.

I was hoping I’d see you here alone today, he said.

Oh? Hannah was pleased that her voice didn’t give away her excitement at that statement. She and Steve had been dog buddies for about a year now but often when they walked, they were just two more people in a loose group, brought together by place and time. She’d never seen Steve socially and everything she knew about him said he was way out of her league. She only knew Steve’s last name because she’d memorized his phone number from Sweetie’s tag and looked him up in the reverse directory.

She’d searched his name online but found little personal information beyond the fact that he was CEO of a technology company that serviced the mining and forestry industries. She knew he was single and wealthy, making the list of the Canada’s hottest bachelors for five years running. There were dozens of photos of him in the company of many beautiful women at various gala events. That search almost made her stop dreaming of ever catching his attention.

Regardless, he would be the perfect father for her children. Or at least one child. Hannah was twenty-eight. She wanted to have a baby before she was thirty-five and lived in constant hope of finding a partner with the same sort of dream.

Steve said nothing as two joggers going in the opposite direction passed them. When Hannah glanced sideways, she saw he was studying his phone.

She bit her lip and kept walking. Just when he might be about to ask her out (please God), he was texting or sending an email. Sometimes she hated cell phones.

She made herself drag back her expectations. Maybe he just wanted a favor, for her to walk his dogs or water his house plants while he jetted off to somewhere exotic.

They’d reached the streetlamp that lit the path to Linden Street where she lived in a small basement suite that took half her take-home pay every month. Henry continued along the seaside path as though he didn’t recognize the route home.

Hannah knew that Steve lived in a beautifully restored Arts & Crafts house only two blocks from her physically. His place could have been the far side of the moon for all that it had in common with the ugly 1950’s stucco house she called home.

Henry, she called. To her surprised satisfaction, he came right back. She put his leash on and started to walk toward the crosswalk.

Steve grabbed her by the upper arm.

Hannah looked down at his gloved hand, admiring the quality of the leather. He held her firmly but not painfully and something deep inside her burst into life. Half of her wanted to pull free, to shake off this pathetic attempt at control. The other half, the stronger half, resisted the impulse. Wasn’t this the type of dominance she’d always wanted to find in a man? As she debated whether or not to tell him to unhand her, he hit send on whatever he’d been doing and released her arm.

Sorry. His boyish grin melted her annoyance instantly. I work twenty-four seven and people expect me to answer their questions no matter where I am.

The price of popularity, I guess. Hannah avoided looking at him so she wouldn’t be making a crotch decision when he asked her whatever he was working up to.

Anyway, as I was saying, I’m glad I caught up with you today.

Why is that? No I don’t want to walk your dogs.

I wondered if you could help a friend out.

Who and how?

"Are