Elodie Now

Nice Guys Don’t Kiss Like That At Christmas comes out in TWO days!

My next steamy romcom “Nice Guys Don’t Kiss Like That At Christmas” – published under Elodie Now – is coming out in two days. TWO. DAYS.

And … I may be running around like a raccoon who just moved internationally and is still setting up their office 😛 That’s me, I’m the raccoon.

Also this podcast episode explains a bit of some of the administrative things I have been dealing with when it comes to this particular release…

And this book means a lot to me. And I’m nervous. And I really need to go on a walk.

Burst pipes. One bed. Feelings I did not sign up for. And a vet with very large… hands. Merry Christmas to me.

I probably should’ve asked more questions before accepting a temporary Christmas nursing contract to “get my life back on track.” Like: Is the local vet my unresolved romantic trauma in human form? Spoiler: he is.

He’s also my former video-chat almost-boyfriend—the one I ghosted seven years ago, right after finishing chemo, when my body felt borrowed and my heart felt like an organ I hadn’t relearned how to use yet.

And now we’re sharing a honeymoon suite. (Me, him, my Emotional Support Pickle, and the vibrator named after him. Do not ask.)

Dr. Adam Large Hands, Larger Heart, Largest…Brain Harrison has my Great Dane swooning, my dachshund wearing a Santa hat, and me… laughing. Unclenching. Melting.

I should remember: it’s safer to freeze than to fall. (Shoutout to Dr. Jerk du Soleil, my ex, for turning me into Ice Queen Foster, ruler of emotional Antarctica.)

Adam’s leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving after Christmas.

One night won’t turn me into a messy puddle of emotions.

…Right?

It’s temporary. Unless it isn’t.


EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE EVE

(…)

I grip the steering wheel, a startled laugh escaping me. This is from an app that promises love and understanding, a partner who gets you.

The laugh dies in my throat as I squint through the windshield. The shadowy figure is moving closer. And is he crouching? Making a strange sound?

“Co, co, co.”

It could be a coyote with bronchitis. Or a serial killer rehearsing his holiday-themed monologue. Either way, I’ve watched enough true-crime shows to know this is where the narrator says, “She never saw it coming.”

Where is Dante with his “touch her and die” intensity when you need him? A fictional man ready to burn the world down for his love sounds pretty good right about now.  Something about the approaching figure makes my stomach clench in a way that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with déjà vu. Great. Even my fight-or-flight response is having flashbacks.

My Bluetooth comes back to life. “Hello? Hello? You’re freaaaaaaaaaaking us o—o—out.” Julie’s voice goes up two octaves.

Unbothered, LoverBoy stretches and settles in the carrier like he’s lived here forever. For a dog I almost ran over, he seems alarmingly trusting.

I glance at him, at Blanche, at Dorothy. Three sets of eyes staring at me like I know what I’m doing. Dangerous assumption, but I’ll take it.

“I’m okay.” I’m not even sure my friends can hear me at that point. Not that it matters when my definition of “okay” includes being stranded in a horror Christmas movie with a cursed Honda Civic, three dogs, and a potential serial killer doing his best seasonal ASMR.

Where is my emotional support pickle when I need it? In the backseat, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Proof 1001 I’m not Hallmark material.

But Lifetime? Oh, I’m your final girl… armed with trauma, a push-up bra, and one shot at my Prove-It-All-Without-Falling-Apart era.

Fa-la-la-la?


Have you already Nice Guys Don’t Kiss Like That At Christmas to your TBR on Goodreads? Also… don’t forget, there’s a special pre-order price of 99 cents instead of $4.99 🙂

And yes, I’m going to go on that walk 😛 And also share this post on my Elodie Now website at some point. And I swear splitting my works in two MAKES sense. It does. It really does… (she says to herself).

🙂

Elodie