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Twelve Spirits of Christmas

by Kathryn M Hearst

Tessa Lamar Novels

I’m still working out the kinks in my new life. I mean really, who wouldn’t need some time to process after finding out they aren’t human? That’s right. I’m a Nunnehi, aka the Cherokee equivalent to a fairy. Oh yeah, and anytime I get a little hot and bothered, I turn into a firebird and incinerate the bed along with anything or anyone in a three-foot radius.

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This site is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.

“I love Christmas.” Bryson grinned as he moved his hand to the small of my back. Dimples formed from the corners of his mouth to his cheekbones, causing a woman in our aisle to swoon.

Full-blooded Native American, and ridiculously sexy, he received no shortage of female adoration.

As much as I wanted to grouse about the nightmare to come, the twinkle in his eye made me bite my tongue.

Of course, he loved Christmas. He was a morning person after all. Morning people had a certain outlook on life that night owls didn’t.