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Thursday, January 28, 2010

Author Page - Piper Denna


Romance is sexy. And often funny, and sometimes tangled up with suspense. Let’s face it: all sorts of things get mixed up with romance in real life.

Piper Denna’s stories are not cut-and-dried romance. She wants her characters to deal with issues female readers can relate to: independence and trust, empowerment, inhibitions, an unfaithful partner, motherhood. Sometimes her characters make mistakes and often her “bad guys” are not 100% bad. Mostly she wants to take the reader on an emotional journey to a happy ending (with a few enviable sexual encounters along the way!).

When she’s not writing, she edits, raises two “tweens” along with her husband, and has an evil day job.

She enjoys books (or movies) with a comedic twist and hopefully a love story, too.

Sexiest parts of a man in Piper’s opinion? The hands and eyes. Shoulders are nice too, and of course, great pecs are never amiss…

A Fireman for Christmas


One more Christmas lusting after her older brother’s best friend? Timi might lose her mind. Fed up with family holidays, she rents a cabin for one, planning a Christmas escape her drawings. But after numerous sketches turn out to be her rendition of Clay in the Hottest Firemen Calendar poster, she realizes location is just a technicality.

Fireman Clay can’t imagine spending Christmas without Timi around to ogle. Hearing she’s holed up in a lovers’ retreat, he can’t resist seeking her out. This year, he’s determined to start a fire and claim the gift he’s always wanted.



The cabin was exactly what Timi Rogers wanted: small, cozy, and private. Two days and nights of peace and quiet at Green Mountain Lodge. No work, no responsibilities, no family holiday hassles.

She dropped her bags on the rustic couch, wandered into the bathroom, and flipped on the light switch. More plaid, and a moose motif. Comfy, like the tidy kitchenette and handmade quilt on the bed. The desk lamp would give just the right light, once she moved it to the table.

For once, she had uninterrupted time to sketch. Hopefully the scenery would inspire some new projects. Eager to get started, she headed to her small pile of belongings to get out her drawing stuff.

Solid rapping on the front door called for a detour. Probably somebody from the front desk. Had she left her credit card, or maybe forgotten to sign for the charges?

She yanked the stubborn door and all but lost her balance when it gave. And looked up into the scowling face of Clay Jones.


“You always open the door without looking to see who’s standing outside first?” Snow swirled in icy gusts past his big body and into her cabin.

Her knuckles were probably white from gripping the door so hard. Maybe she’d slam it shut in his face. If she thought for a second it would make him go away, she’d try it. “This resort has the lowest number of ax murderers per capita in the Midwest.”

He didn’t so much as crack a smile. The lower edge of his blond hairline peeked out from under his fleece hat. “Good one. What are you doing up here all alone on Christmas Eve? Going Scrooge this year?”

“Sure. Scrooge. That’s me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to do.” Her fingers fluttered a farewell wave.

“Don’t think so.” He shoved his considerable parka’d bulk past her, ducking slightly under the jamb, and looked around. The cabin suddenly seemed crowded instead of cozy.

Whoa, he was even bigger than the last time she’d seen him. Was he going for a Mr. Universe title or what, pumping so much iron? Could just be the thick coat.

Well, he was in. She might as well shut the door on the blizzard raging outside. If she gave the right answers to his questions, he’d be on his way. With award-worthy effort, she held back a sigh. Hopefully he wasn’t there to try luring her back to holidays with the family. One more repeat of Christmases past, and she’d go bonkers.

“Things to do, huh? Like what?” He stood with his legs set, arms crossed over his chest, like a bouncer in front of some exclusive nightclub. “You’re obviously not up here with a boyfriend, like you told your Grammy Martha.”

“If I tell you I’ve hated Christmas with my family for the last five years, will I have to listen to a lecture about how they all love me and they’re just worried? Which one of them sent you, anyway?” Probably Eddy. Clay and her oldest brother had been tight as two slats on a beer barrel since Kindergarten. Leave it to Eddy to pawn off the dirty work and stick his only single friend with keeping tabs on Little Timi.

Clay turned red around the neck. “Uh. Who said anything about sending me? Maybe I just heard from a little bird that you were traipsing off for a romantic holiday with a fictional boyfriend. Maybe since you have a history of being…” He shrugged and scrubbed the back of his neck. “…you know…lonesome?”

All Fore Revenge
Fantasy Mountain

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