From Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Nicole James comes a grumpy sunshine, small town, holiday romance!

JJ—
I’ve been to Christmas Town. Never thought I’d admit that to anyone. And yes, it’s a real place.

My brother and I visited there many times when we went to see our grandparents for the holidays. The small Tennessee town is proud of its name and takes it seriously. Gramps owns the local Christmas tree farm, Holly Jolly Farms on Candy Cane Lane. I know, right? Gag me with a spoonful of sugar.

I haven’t seen Gramps in forever, so never in a million years would I have expected that he’d leave it to me and my brother in his will. Only problem is, my brother passed away eight months ago. Guess gramps didn’t get a chance to update his will before he kicked the bucket.

It’s not that I’m ungrateful. We had some fun times there as boys, but now I’m a grown man who lost his Christmas wonder a long time ago. You could say I’m the definition of Bah-humbug.

To top it all off, I now share ownership of the place with my brother’s widow, a woman I’ve never even met.
Why is that, you ask?

Because I’m the black sheep of the family. I left home a decade ago and joined a motorcycle club. How’s that for a flying finger to the whole fam?

Needless to say, I haven’t been invited back since.
Not once.

So, all things considered, I’m thinking we make a quick sale, and unload the place to the first buyer we can find. But Rebecca has other ideas. She wants to make a go of it and she’s got a ton of ideas.

She’s complicating everything with her perky attitude and persistent optimism.

Per the stipulations of the will, neither one of us can sell unless the other one agrees, at least for the first year.

So, now I’m stuck with a failing tree farm and a hot-as-hell partner who pushes all my buttons, and is full of stinking Christmas cheer.

If I hear another ho-ho-ho, I won’t be responsible for my actions.

Between the tinsel and glitter and twinkling lights, the tree farm on Candy Cane Lane is coming back to life and my sexy partner is trying my last nerve and testing all my willpower. Lord, save me. It’s enough to drive a man to drink.

Pass the eggnog and don’t skimp on the liquor.

I’m in Freaking hell.

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