Mistletoe’s Kiss

1. Chapter 1

1

Chapter 1

“Christmas is a time to forgive and let go of grudges.”

The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding by Agatha Christie

M addy had never ridden in a car as beautiful as the vintage Rolls-Royce. The engine hummed soothingly and it seemed to glide along the road as they headed to their destination. The shining curves and smell of freshly polished leather seats were giving all sorts of inspiration for scenes she could write between her amateur sleuth Tabby Merryweather and love interest, Markus. She imagined Markus pulling over to the side of the road after yet another argument about the duo’s mystery-solving methodology. Tabby’s bickering was a sort of love language, she only did it when she was feeling needy and wanted to get him hot under his starched collar. He’d push her into the back of the Rolls, sliding along the soft leather as he climbed in after her. One of his big hands slipping under her dress, tearing her hose as he roughly gained access to her wet core. Stroking her with his finger, his hot breath inching slowly up her thighs…

Unfortunately, pant-meltingly good ideas always seemed to come to her at the most inopportune of times.

“Maddy, are you listening? Where are you right now? You need to pay attention, this is the guest list. Can you have a read for me?”

Maddy blinked back to reality and just caught the end of Sara’s rapid-fire questions. She’d been so lost in her head she’d forgotten that Sara was sitting in the back with her. They were on their way to the launch party for Maddy’s or rather ‘Madeleine Montgomery’s’ new mystery romance Blood Under the Mistletoe . It was a bit of a departure from her usual softer novels. She’d been inspired over the last year to try something different, darker, slightly twisted but undeniably hot. Desperately hoping that her readers were ready for a change, she was determined that tonight she’d shrug off the anxiety that discussing a new book usually induced and try to have some fun.

“I don’t really need to read the guest list, Sara, the publicity team always invites the same group of people. I think I met most of them at my last book release, not to mention the awards rounds and that romance book convention we did two months ago.”

Sara was her publicist, she was amazing at her job but Maddy couldn’t help but be frustrated sometimes. As one of Cupid Press’ bestselling authors, she was forced to attend a multitude of publishing parties, signings and book fairs when she’d much rather be holed up at home plotting murders and daydreaming up spicy scenarios for her characters. She understood the need to publicise her books, she wanted to get them into the hands of her readers but wasn’t a huge fan of gimmicks and this launch party was a publicity and marketing team’s wet dream.

Her publisher was going all out on Blood Under the Mistletoe . Maddy thought it might have something to do with nerves on their part due to the new edgier direction in her writing. They were well known for their cosy, straight-laced romance and hadn’t yet taken the plunge into the darker side of the genre.

Cupid had decided to throw a lavish launch party on Christmas Eve, renting a stylish country house, complete a with butler and staff to host. The plan was to recreate the Christmas setting and plot of her novel with a murder mystery party, where the guests dress up in 1920s clothing, search for clues and play at solving a murder. Maddy thought it was a bit over the top but was pretty sure the guests would love it, especially if plied with good food and plentiful cocktails.

“You really need to get the buyers at Bakers Books and SM Jones on board Maddy. Use your authorly wiles to pit them against each other, you know they’re insanely competitive. Make them think your sole success with this book lies in the size of the initial order they put through… bandy about cloth-covered, illustrated exclusives and free bookmarks. They’ll eat it up and hopefully, we’ll have some chunky orders and a bidding war for the exclusives.”

Maddy sighed. “I thought I was supposed to schmooze the movie exec! Didn’t he buy the rights to Penelope Smythe’s Murder Most Sinful last year?”

“Yes! Apparently, he’s got a thing for ‘classy’ smut, whatever that is and you know mystery always sells. Penelope supposedly got a six-figure payout and a contract for the rights to her next two books. He’s coming over from America just for the party, but don’t mention Penelope; that’s supposed to be all hush-hush.”

“OK, so manipulate the buyers, schmooze the movie exec, and what about the book influencer? She has half a million followers. I haven’t talked to her before, she usually spends all of her time at events holding her phone in the air, filming live feeds. She does good work, though; her reviews are always spot on, and she’s great at discovering new talent.”

“I’m not sure, just butter her up,” said Sara. “I’ve got a special one-of-a-kind press pack going out to her later this week. Champagne, chocolate, a signed special edition, and I managed to get my hands on a full-sized sample of that new cologne, Alpha. Supposedly, it smells like leather and cedarwood with just a hint of ozone before a storm. Their PR guru told me it embodies the essence of masculinity and is just what every little dark-hearted book reviewer has been dying to get their hands on. When in doubt a little self-care bribery always works.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes ladies,” the driver shouted back to them. “We’re due some heavy snow later, I’ll let you know if I have to adjust the pickup time. These old cars, country roads and icy weather don’t always mix well, but fingers crossed it won’t be too bad.”

Sara squealed in excitement. “Wow! Snow on Christmas Eve! Isn’t it snowing at the beginning of Blood Under the Mistletoe ? Talk about just the right party ambiance! That should impress the movie guy. Don’t Americans love British stuff? An old country house in the snow on Christmas Eve should do it! And did I tell you how absolutely stunning you look this evening? I knew it was a good idea to pop by your apartment and get you out of your usual frump. That sexy little vintage dress with the pearls… you look just perfect. Pop some more lippy on before we arrive, and you’ll knock em dead…” she finished in a rush. Sara always talked a mile a minute; her enthusiasm was contagious.

Maddy was used to doing what she was told when it came to dressing for events. Sara was practically her stylist as well as publicist at this point. She was usually more comfortable with a messy bun, yoga pants and a tee, pottering about her home ‘office’, which was basically a desk in her bedroom. There was a pretty elegance about Maddy, belying the smutty thoughts usually swirling behind her innocent-looking grey eyes. A dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks added to her youthful look, along with the pale pink she’d dyed her hair earlier in the year. The tattoos had started when her first novel was published, she’d celebrated with some ink and now every time a new book was released she went back to her favourite artist in East London and had another added. She was due to visit after Christmas for a new piece and was thinking a sprig of mistletoe would look good on the book-themed sleeve creeping up her arm. The tattoos were actually a better fit with her new novel, maybe she just needed a bit of an image overhaul if she carried on writing on the darker side, step out of her comfort zone and learn to do a smudgy eye or a sultry red lip.

Maddy gazed out of the car window, taking in the impressive topiary hedges lining the long road as they pulled into the venue. When the house loomed out of the newly swirling snowflakes, she let out a sigh of amazement. Cupid had outdone themselves. It was everything she’d imagined when writing her novel: 18th-century architecture, plinths adorned with festive holly, and a red-ribboned evergreen wreath on the large, imposing door. Christmas lights twinkled through beautiful multi-panelled sash windows, and wisps of smoke gently drifted from the graceful chimneys. The house screamed regency, and she could almost picture Mr Darcy arriving in a grand carriage to court Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She climbed out of the car and stepped onto the fresh snow, breathing in the clean, crisp air. As she waited for Sara, the door to the stunning house swung open, revealing a dapper older gentleman in a smart black and white suit.

“Ladies, my name is Michaels. I am the butler here at Ashbourne Hall. Let’s get you inside where it’s a tad warmer.”

Once they’d entered, Michaels insisted on helping with their coats, handing them off to a pretty young woman in a traditional maid’s outfit. The entrance hall was just as sublime as the exterior, with elegant tiled flooring and a plush red carpet leading to a grand staircase. Michaels led them away from the entryway, past an enormous Christmas tree and down a wooden panelled hallway.

He paused at a door just ahead. “Some of the guests have already arrived and are situated in the main parlour. Whom should I announce?”

“I’m Sara Weston with Cupid Press and this is the guest of honour Madeleine Montgomery, the author of Blood Under the Mistletoe.”

As they were ushered into the parlour, the butler shouted in a loud and officious voice, “The esteemed Madeleine Montgomery and Miss Sara Weston,” before retreating to his spot by the front door.