The Mistletoe Melody

’Tis the season of forgiveness…but can she ever forget?

Brad Monroe was truly unbelievable. Blowing back into Brookhollow for three days to film a Christmas special—three years after the accident that killed his best friend…her husband—and expecting Melody to be civil? Please. He’d been the only one who’d survived the tragedy, hightailing it to Nashville and hijacking her dream…Patrick’s dream. She’d spent that time grieving, working three jobs, struggling to raise her boys and keep a roof over their heads. Now she was losing ground on all fronts, and not about to forgive and forget. Or give him the one thing that could save them all…

“I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Melody swung the scraper and Brad had to duck to avoid getting it in the side of the head. “Everything was fine,” she added, “until you showed up here as if you owned the town.”

“Fine? Really? That’s not exactly the word that comes to mind when I think about your situation, Mel.” If it took cold hard truth to wake her up, then so be it. He had nothing to lose at this point.

“What do you know about it? You’re back in Brookhollow for all of three days and all of a sudden you know something about my life? You know nothing.” Opening the back sliding door, she tossed the snow scraper inside and shoved the door shut.

“I know you’re losing the house.”

Dear Reader,

The holiday season can mean so many things to different people. For some, it is a season of love, laughter and making memories with family and friends. For others, it is a time of reflection and forgiveness. For single mom Melody Myers, the holidays are a struggle both financially and emotionally and, when Brad Monroe appears three weeks before Christmas, things get even harder.

Learning to confront past mistakes and learning to forgive are two of life’s greatest challenges, and Melody and Brad are forced to decide whether they can move forward or if some things simply cannot be forgiven…not even for love.

Brad and Melody’s story is one that is very close to my heart and one that I hope you will enjoy. Happy Holidays from my family to yours. Wishing you a season of love, laughter, hope and forgiveness.

xo

Jennifer

The Mistletoe

Melody

Jennifer Snow

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER SNOW

lives in Edmonton, Alberta, with her husband and four-year-old son. She is a member of the Writers Guild of Alberta, the Romance Writers of America, the Canadian Author Association and shewrites.org. She is also a regular blogger on the Mills & Boon Heartwarming Authors site and is a contributing writer for Mslexia magazine and RWR. She has offered online courses on writing sweet romance through several RWA local chapters and has written articles for Avenue magazine. An active volunteer with Frontier College, she is an advocate for literacy programs worldwide. More information can be found on her website, www.jennifersnowauthor.com.

For Jacob—you’re the coolest kid I know,

but you’ll never win the “I love you more” game. Mommies always win that one.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Stephany Evans, the best agent in New York—xo. Thank you to my wonderful editor, Victoria Curran, for ignoring my pouting and helping to create the best version of this book possible—as always, you were right :). Thank you so much to Doug Organ for the music industry insights—amazingly cool guy and recording studio. I could have stayed there all day! Special thanks to recording artist Joal Kamps and his wonderful manager Laurie Brown for their help and support with this book. And thank you to Reagan for never giving up on my dream, even when I do.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

MELODY SNEEZED AND reached for a tissue from the magazine table of the walk-in medical clinic’s crowded waiting room. Then she promptly pumped her hand sanitizer.

Lindsay Harper, the clinic’s head nurse, looked over at her from where she was plugging in the artificial Christmas tree in the corner. “Not you, too, Mel,” she said. The white, five-foot-tall decoration began to rotate, its multicolored LED lights twinkling in time to the sound of “Jingle Bells,” which suddenly filled the air.

Melody could do without the reminder of the upcoming season. Christmas used to be her favorite time of year, but since Patrick’s death, it only caused her stress—emotionally and financially.

“’Tis the season,” she mumbled, sitting back in the plastic waiting-room chair she was sharing with her eight-year-old son, Josh. Every year around this time, they both seemed to get sick. She could mark her calendar by it. December first—first day of the flu.