When her dreams of becoming a ballerina were quashed by early-onset klutziness, Diana Duncan took up the safer vocation of writing. Her first masterpiece–written in orange crayon–was titled “Perky the Kitten,” and became an instant bestseller with her grandparents. Her childhood growing up as a military brat gave her the ability to leap into a conversation with anyone, anywhere, anytime…and she always discovers a new friend in the process. This gift of gab perfectly equipped her for a career that involves making stuff up.
Di is famous for using seven words when one will do. She wields smart-assery like a samurai sword, and will be the first to volunteer in a catastrophe. Of course, she was probably the one who caused the catastrophe.
She loves her job and claims writing is the most fun she’s ever had while wearing her sock monkey pajamas. She also enjoys gardening, cooking, and adopting abandoned curbside furniture to refurbish into treasures. Diana published 6 award-winning books with a traditional NY publishing house before going rogue with Indie publishing. 10% of the proceeds of every book she sells is donated to different organizations that serve those who are in need, both people and animals.
How I got the idea for this book: I dreamed it in early October. In vivid detail. The entire opening scene, starting with the heroine stranded in an airport, the hunky hero who thinks she’s someone else and puts the moves on her, and the hero’s adorable little boy who has a fondness for penguins and an unshakeable belief in magic. I woke up and said….”WOW! I have to write this story!” I knew I would have to finish it, have it edited, formatted and a cover made by early November in order to get it out in time for Christmas. And I am not a fast writer. Quite the opposite, in fact.
But I never had a doubt. I sat my butt in the chair and worked 10-14 hour days, every single day for the rest of the month. The story just poured from my heart, into my fingertips, and onto the page. Faster than anything I’ve ever written. I didn’t even have to think about where the plot was going or what would happen. It was truly magical. I laughed, I cried, and I had the best time ever…and I hope readers will join me in that adventure!
Happy Reading and Merry Christmas!
The best gifts in life are surprises…
Surprise! Thanks to a blizzard named Blitzen, Christie McQuade can’t make it home for Christmas. Stranded in an airport, things look bleak…until she runs into delicious Deputy Damian Reade, who along with his four-year-old son, Eli, is likewise wondering how to salvage his holidays.
A ’57 Chevy Bel Air christened “Vixen” is their last hope. Christie’s not always the trusting type…but after a background check through her investigative brother clears Damian – and after all, how can a man who’s so patient and loving with his son be dangerous? – she joins them on a Cross Country Christmas adventure filled
with fun and surprises…not the least of which is the powerful chemistry between Damian and Christie.
Chemistry is one thing. Heart-tugging is another. And damned if both father and son aren’t soon tugging on Christie’s previously-broken heart-strings.
A child’s unshakeable faith in Santa, his seemingly impossible Christmas wishes of the Jolly Old Man, and a whole lot of holiday magic may lead Damian and Christie to the biggest surprise of all…love.
Although the first two books in this series are Romantic Suspense, this special Christmas novel does not contain suspense. You do not need to read the first two books in order to fully enjoy this story, as it stands alone. However readers of “Laws of Attraction” and “Big Bad Wolfe” will love revisiting their favorite characters and celebrating with them during the holidays.
“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.”
The infamous line from “Home Alone” perfectly described Denver International Airport on December 19th. The place looked, smelled, and sounded as chaotic as a natural disaster refugee camp. Christie McQuade slammed the handle of her wheeled carry-on bag into its slot and planted her feet against the tsunami of cranky would-be travelers. One more freakin’ replay of Feliz Freakin’ Navidad—the most annoying Christmas carol ever—and she’d end up on the No Fly list for trashing the PA system.
Grinding her teeth, she scanned the interminable list of flight delays. The only Christmas spirit she possessed this year was the bottle of ChocoVine, the bottle of chocolate wine she’d consumed last night while not sleeping on the airport floor.
Smelling less than fresh herself, tired, hungry, and more than slightly hung-over was not how she’d planned on greeting her family. Not that she’d planned on greeting them at all. She’d let despair drag her down, thrown herself a big ole pity party and bah humbugged out on Christmas this year.
She swore beneath her breath and shoved an errant chestnut curl beneath the crocheted reindeer hat, complete with horns and bulbous red nose, that her brother had sent as a cheer-up gift. She wanted to see his expression when she deplaned in Portland and he saw she was wearing it…and then had to walk through the entire airport beside her.
Face it, this fiasco is your own fault. If you hadn’t waited until the last minute to get off the pity pot, you’d be lounging on Big Brother’s comfy leather couch right now quaffing his 150 proof eggnog and munching Mama’s to-die-for gingerbread cookies.
Mama baked her special cookies only at Christmas and always left everyone craving more. Christie’s stomach growled furiously enough to be heard over the loudspeaker droning out another delayed flight number, followed by the frustrated throng’s groans and complaints.
A glance at the bank of windows revealed a maelstrom of whirling white. The blizzard, which the Weather Channel had nauseatingly christened “Blizten,” continued to ramp up in intensity. Although she’d paid the price of a new kidney for a last-minute ticket, making the family gathering on time was looking iffy. Another curse escaped. Might as well pawn the second kidney and grab breakfast at one of the teeming airport restaurants.
As Christie started to turn, strong arms wrapped around her from behind and a large, hard male form pressed against her back. “Hey there.” The deep, resonant timbre vibrated in her ear, shivering all the way down her spine. “Imagine meeting you here, of all places.”
The fragrance of cinnamon and cloves and warm, clean man enveloped her, and her body—which had been deprived of affection a whole lot longer than it had gingerbread—leapt instantly awake.
“I see you’ve been doing those righteous squats.” A firm squeeze of her butt jolted Christie. “Sweet cheeks, woman.”
She jabbed her elbow backward at the same time she stomped her boot on the man’s instep, satisfied at the pained male “oof” as her assailant lost his breath. “Get off me, creeper.”
“Oh, shit!” that velvet voice groaned as he abruptly let go.
She pivoted. The man straightened, and she looked up…way, way up…to meet stunned midnight eyes. And lost her own breath. Well over six feet of prime male, honed to buff perfection. Flawless skin the color of her favorite caramel latte, and a long thicket of lashes showcased those incredible eyes. His raven hair was buzz-cut and although his horrified expression was somber, glossy dark brows arched in a natural, playfully wicked slant. A strong, straight nose led to a deliciously sensual mouth with full, beautifully shaped lips.
A mouth made for a hundred different ways to get on Santa’s naughty list.
His black leather jacket strained against impossibly wide shoulders and powerful arms that ended in long-fingered hands. No wedding ring on his left hand, and no telltale mark where a wedding ring might’ve recently resided.
At his right, stood a miniature replica of himself, down to the leather jacket, green Henley shirt, jeans and black boots…except adorable Mini-Me possessed a mop of inky curls. Mini-Me, who looked to be around four-ish, clutched a small, somewhat tattered package wrapped in red paper decorated with penguins wearing Santa hats, and adorned with creased red, white, and black ribbons.
“You said the S-word!” Mini-Me admonished.
“Sure did,” the man rumbled. Mr. Yummy’s contrite gaze held Christie’s. “Sincere apologies. I’m not a perv, honest. I mistook you for a friend of mine.”
Laws of Attraction (Marriage & Mayhem! Book 1)
He’s a Texas lawman carrying a badge…and a grudge.
And he could die protecting his unintended bride.
They’re a perfect pair, both tough, wary, and the walking wounded. When their quests for vengeance collide, Undercover DEA Agent Dallas McQuade and Mia Linden, a disbarred lawyer whose personal life has been destroyed by drug lord Esteban Montoya, are forced into a reluctant partnership—and a quickie Las Vegas wedding.
Dallas vows to protect his temporary wife, but Mia has plans of her own, and they don’t include leaving all the heavy lifting—or bullet-dodging—to Dallas.
Neither of them planned on falling in lust, let alone love. But they can’t fight the passion…and emotions…ricocheting between them.
But will Dallas choose vengeance—or love?
Maybe they can heal each other. And their make-believe marriage can become real.
If they survive.
This is book 1 of 3 in the Marriage & Mayhem! series.
Big Bad Wolfe (Marriage & Mayhem! Book 2)
FBI Special Agent Zane Wolfe fears nothing…
So suddenly discovering he’s the father of a five-year-old son terrifies him.
Jillian Ramsay has had temporary custody of her best friend’s little boy since his mother recently died. As the assistant director of a school for disadvantaged children, she recognizes Zane is a survivor of childhood abuse. While Jillian understands Zane’s trepidation, she also sees that behind his protective walls, her Big Bad Wolfe is good-hearted and caring. She’s in a desperate fight for custody against the child’s vicious uncle…and she needs Zane to face his fears—just long enough to help her win permanent custody of his son.
Zane’s ready to turn tail and run for the first time in his life. Until sinister motives behind the death of his son’s mother put both the boy and Jillian in danger. As Zane works with Jillian to secure his son’s future, keeping his barricades intact becomes far more difficult than he imagined.
Because while Jillian might not huff and puff, her patience and tenderness are chipping away at his walls.
He’ll do anything to protect his son…including temporarily marrying Jillian. Then he’s determined to return to his safe, solitary existence.
The Big Bad Wolfe fears nothing.
Except failing those he loves.
This is the 2nd book in the Marriage & Mayhem! series. “Laws of Attraction” is Book 1, and “Cross Country Christmas” is Book 3.