I did something really, really bad.
I met Santa.
He smelled like peppermint and chocolate.
After one whiff, I had an overwhelming urge to…well, you know.
I was mortified. I’m a married woman.
I’m not supposed to walk around kissing guys.
Santa swore he wouldn’t tell a soul.
I continued shopping, but guilt plagued me.
I asked Santa to help me write a letter of apology to my husband.
Santa sheepishly admitted he’d already tweeted about our kiss under the mistletoe.
Right afterwards, I received a phone call from my husband, who suggested I come home.
I promised to stop hanging out with oversized elves in red suits with white beards.
Luckily, my husband forgave me…because he kissed Santa, too.
Should I feel relieved, or worried?
This post brought to you by The Strong, Silent Type.
Written by me, published by The Wild Rose Press.
If he breaks his silence about the scars marring his face, will the truth drive her away?
A romantic novella set during the Christmas/New Year’s season. Available for $2.99.