Cover

Free Downloads

CLICK HERE to join our NEWSLETTER and receive 6 FREE Prequels that aren’t sold on retailers!

About Single and Ready to Jingle

The girl who loves Christmas falls for the Grinch—it’s a Christmas miracle.

What started as a dumpster fire of a blind date turns into a deal.

In truth, it probably didn’t help that I showed up dressed like an elf but that’s a story for another time. Our start was rocky at best which is why it’s so frustrating that I can’t stop thinking about his sexy British accent. Or the way his chest and arms fill out his suit. Or his perfect hair with that single streak of grey at the front.

Santa likes lists and so do I, so here’s all the reasons why Andrew and I aren’t right for each other:

He’s my brother’s best friend

He’s the biggest grump I’ve ever met.

He hates Christmas.

That last one is big for a girl like me who thinks that the entire month of December should be a national holiday. So, when he calls for my help in planning his firm’s holiday party, I can’t pass up the opportunity to grow my small business. Bonus, we make a deal, and he agrees to attend three holiday events with me so I can make him fall in love with Christmas. As if I’d pass up an opportunity to make a Grinch’s heart grow three times its size.

It isn’t long until I discover Andrew has a very real reason to hate Christmas and I start to see him in a different light. That’s when the Christmas miracle begins.

Chapter One

Kenzie

Not much draws the gaze of a New Yorker. Except maybe a twenty-eight-year-old woman running down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan while wearing red-and-white-striped tights, elf ears, and curved green shoes with hanging bells.

I rush past the gawking men and women clutching their shopping bags that contain items that cost more than my monthly rent.

“Damn it,” I mumble, stopping at a red light, sounding like a Christmas carol as I jog in place. I’m going to be late and there’s nothing I hate more than disrespecting another person’s time. It’s just plain rude.

As soon as the cars clear the intersection, before the little walking man pedestrian signal lights up, I step off the curb. If you ever want to tell the difference between a tourist and a born and bred New Yorker, wait to see when they cross the street. A real Manhattanite believes that pedestrian signals are merely suggestions, not rule of law.

I run down the sidewalk, my blonde braids bouncing with every step, the bells hanging from my toes and skirt ringing the entire way.

I love Christmas.

Like, love love Christmas.