Under the Mistletoe with Kate Jarvik Birch

Under Mistletoe
“Hi,” I smile shyly, sidling up next to you. “I’m not sure if you’ve looked up, but that little bunch of leaves and pearly white berries hanging above us is mistletoe. Oh… you DID know. Now I’m blushing. Before this goes any farther, I feel like I should at least introduce myself…
My name is Kate Jarvik Birch, but you can just call me Kate, or Tater Tot if we get really close. I like walks on the beach like everyone else, but this time of year you’ll most likely find me snuggled under a blanket on my couch writing stories with my three dogs cuddled up somewhere nearby. As a kid, I wanted to grow up to be either a unicorn or mermaid. Luckily, being a writer turned out to be just as magical.
All right. Now pucker up.

Favorite Holiday Song: Silver Bells

Favorite Holiday Food: Homemade banana cream pie

What’s your favorite thing about the winter holiday season?

I love the smell of a fresh pine needles and the warm glow of white lights.

What’s your least favorite thing about the winter holiday season?

Cold. Cold. Cold. I’m one of those girls that feels freezing in the middle of summer, so wintertime is basically four straight months of numb fingers and toes.

About Perfected

PERFECTED-500x750
Hero’s Name: Penn

Heroine’s Name: Ella

What would the perfect gift your hero would give your heroine and why?

If Penn could give Ella anything (besides freedom, of course) he’d give her a shiny, grand piano and a light-filled room where she could make music all day.

What would the perfect gift your heroine would give your hero and why?

Ella wouldn’t give Penn an object. She’d give him one more night in their secret garden.

Where would your hero or heroine secretly hang some mistletoe to catch an extra special holiday kiss and why?

The wrought iron gate leading into Penn’s garden would be the perfect place to hand a sprig of mistletoe (although Penn and Ella don’t need an excuse to kiss).

Share an excerpt of your favorite kissing scene between these two characters.

Our lips moved together, desperate, greedy for one another. This was what it meant to be kissed; only this time I didn’t need to be taught. Kissing him felt natural, as essential as air, and I breathed him in, filled my mouth with the taste of him.
Penn’s hands traveled down my back, drawing a line along my spine. They stopped at my waist and his fingers spread out feeling the soft curve of my hips. His grip tightened, pulling me into him and a spark moved through me, catching like kindling, flaming in the darkest corners of my body.
Missy’s words nudged their way forward in mind, trying to push out this feeling, this heat. But I wouldn’t listen. I didn’t even care if I was just a toy that the Congressman would tire of. It didn’t matter. Not in this moment.
The only thing that mattered was the way Penn’s skin felt against mine. Touching him was like music, a strong clear note that drowned out everything else. And I wanted more. I wanted to move my fingers across his skin the way they moved across the keys, stringing together one perfect note after another until we’d made a symphony.

 

http://www.katejarvikbirch.com

 

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