GENRE: Lesbian Spicy Romance Anthology
LENGTH: 25,588 words
RATING:

It’s December. The world is dark and cold. The office party sucks. The job sucks. Everything sucks except for one thing ... maybe she’s the one. Or at least, the one for this particularly strange snowy season.

Naughty and Nice is an F/F holiday romance collection where the bounds of what is nice is stretched and pushed until, maybe, it is better to be naughty after all. Each story contains a strong female protagonist who longs for something beyond the twinkling lights or red Santa suits this holiday season.

Will she find whatever her heart desires at an office party? Working nights at a clean-up crew? Or grading final papers? If she does, it’s because she was lucky enough to not make Santa’s list after all.

Contains the stories A New Christmas Carol, Crows for Christmas, Gift Wrapped, and Red Suits and Second Chances.

EXCERPT FROM “Red Suits and Second Chances”
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

A week later, Gina showed up at the office on a snowy, Friday night with a drink in her hand. She had brought a small bottle of chardonnay as some kind of holiday good will gesture, though she really just wanted to be rid of it. She had squeezed into her version of the little black dress most women in their thirties have. The skirt came down just above her knee and the straps were a bit skimpy. She paired it with a black cardigan and long, black boots.

“Well,” she said as she gazed at herself in the mirrored surface in the front foyer. “You certainly don’t look like Santa anymore.”

With her black purse around her shoulder, she also didn’t look very festive. She took the bow off her chardonnay and placed it over one of her dress straps instead, fixing her hair in the same reflected surface. Not great, she noted, but better. At least it doesn’t look like you’re attending a funeral.

Gina smiled at her reflection, gave herself one last look, and then turned to the elevator. The working elevator. She let out a huge sigh of relief as she got on, pressed the button for the second floor, and waited. When the door opened, the low din of the crowd drifted out along with the Elvis Christmas music Jay had fought for -- and clearly won. It was only an hour into the party, and most of their outside clients had already shown up. Gina’s plan was to show up late, talk to one or two people, drop off her gift -- evidence she’d been to the party -- pick up her bonus, and then go home. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could slip into PJs and watch Pitch Perfect on Netflix before midnight. Not because she really loved the movie, but because it was the least Christmas thing she could think of.

She nodded to herself as she entered the party. Yes, that sounds good.

“Ho ho ho!”

Gina turned to see Sam in the old Santa suit, without the beard since he had grown his own out. “I have a present for you, dear Gina.”

“Oh? I think you may have already given me so much.”

Sam made a tsk-tsk under his breath and handed her the standard envelope containing her holiday bonus. Her name Gina DiMarco was written in fine handwriting with a small Christmas sticker in the corner.

“Thank you, Sam. I truly appreciate it.”

“Not at all! I have to say -- I owe Felicia a huge thank you for fixing up the Santa suit for me. I didn’t realize how much fun this would be.”

“Especially with some Christmas cheer,” Gina added, handing over the bottle of chardonnay. Sam made a pleased noise and tucked it into the bottom of his bag.

“For later. I’ll be naughty after I’m nice.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Merry Christmas, Gina,” Sam said before departing. She barely had a chance to wish him the same before he disappeared into the crowd.

Gina tucked her bonus into her purse and felt another wave of relief wash over her. She was here, wearing what she wanted, and she wasn’t Santa. Maybe she didn’t have to run away so soon. Maybe Christmas, with whatever new family her work staff had formed, wasn’t too bad a fate after all.

She moved to the table full of sweets and ate a couple gingerbread cookies, before she felt a small tap on her back.

“Felicia,” Gina greeted, smiling wide as they came face to face. Felicia wore dark, tight jeans, and a large, hideous-looking sweater that made Gina gawk. “Oh my goodness -- what are you wearing?”

“You like it?” Felicia asked, pulling the sweater taut so the image -- a cat dancing around a tree with some festive mice -- was stretched out and more visible. “I found it when I was out looking for fabric, and I thought it was perfect. Reflects how I feel about the holiday.”

Gina was about to ask exactly what that meant, when Felicia suddenly let go of her sweater and pulled out a gift from her shoulder bag. “Here,” she said as she pressed it into Gina’s hand.

“For me?”

“Yes. You. Open it! I want to see.”