Hello Babes!

And happy holidays! Who out there is still singing Christmas carols while drinking cocktails and baking even MORE holiday cookies (because the ones made last week have already been decimated)?
Just me, then?

Cool.
Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.

Well, ‘tis the season for that weird week between Christmas and New Year’s that leaves us with cleaning, movie watching, more baking, and of course, reading! And what’s better than having a delicious nip of something while you relax and enjoy all your new presents? Then you can snuggle up for some holiday reading—like with my newest release, SLEIGHING YOU!

One of my favorite scenes from the book involves a bartender creating holiday cocktails and I thought it would be SO fun to share a recipe for the easiest one with you—
Spiked Peppermint Hot Chocolate! How DELICIOUS will this be on New Year’s Day? Can I get a whatwhat!?

Now, this recipe actually makes the hot chocolate from scratch (which is surprisingly easy!). However, if you prefer to use a mix, go right ahead!

Heat the milk, chocolate chips, sugar, and salt in a saucepan.

Warm them on medium heat, whisking frequently and being careful not to let the mixture boil (it will burn the pan and seize the chocolate!). Whisk until the mixture comes to a low simmer and the chocolate fully melts. Remove from heat IMMEDIATELY when it begins to simmer.

To each mug, add 1 shot (essentially 1 oz) each of the peppermint schnapps and creme de cocoa. Ladle in the hot chocolate to each mug and gently stir. Top with marshmallows and crushed peppermints!

Keep reading to enjoy an excerpt from SLEIGHING YOU, available now on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!

“I’m not usually a festive cocktail kind of guy… but for the sake of solidifying a good business relationship between us and the bar, I should probably take one for the team.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Mmmm. You probably should. It’s a sacrifice that will make the history books. Be talked about for years to come. I bet they’ll erect a statue in your honor.”

Despite my snarky humor, Chris smiled wider and wiggled his eyebrows. “Just make sure they get the jawline right.” 

The spark in his eyes seemed to shift as though it had transformed into an electric current right before my eyes, I felt it travel across the table and skim over my skin. My heart thrummed faster, and my skin flushed warm and tingly as he brought his lips to the edge of the hot chocolate mug and took a slow sip, his eyes remaining on me the entire time. 

When he lowered the mug, whipped cream was stuck to his stubble like a creamy mustache—and what was even better, he had no idea. 

I touched my forefinger to my top lip and cleared my throat. “You’ve got a little, um, whipped cream…”

He quickly swiped at his top lip with his hand and his eyes widened in shock as he looked down at the glob of cream in his palm. “That’s more than a little.”

He tried to wipe it off in his other palm, which only spread it around more. Then, in a final ditch effort, he wiped his hands on his sweater—which only made the bright green fibers stick to his palms.

He grunted in frustration. “Didn’t Nick bring us any napkins?”

I chuckled and dug into my purse. I always kept sanitizer and hand wipes on me at all times. When you work in a store that had kids running around (sometimes amuck), you needed them more than you’d expect. I rooted around until I felt the small square and tossed it onto the table. “Here. This will work better than a dry napkin, anyway.”

He blinked, staring at the hand wipe. He glanced up at me a moment, then back down. “You want me to wipe my hands with this?” That cocky smirk was back, and when I dropped my gaze to the table, my face went red hot as I realized I had handed him a condom from my purse. 

“Oh my God,” I lunged for the condom and threw it back in my bag, searching for the hand wipe which I quickly found. “This. I meant to give you this.”

“Phew,” Chris sighed and took the square paper wrapper I handed him. “I was going to say, I don’t think a condom would be much help here.” He lifted his sticky palms into the air. 

“Especially not that one. Damn thing’s probably been expired for a year.” 

Oh, my God. Shut up, Avery. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Chris didn’t need to know that my best friend had given that condom to me last year on St. Patrick’s Day “just in case.” And he definitely didn’t need to know that I went home that night alone with a fistful of chocolate gold coins and a big gulp sized Shamrock Shake. 

Chris tore open the hand wipe and cleaned off his hands. “Thanks, this worked great.”

“No problem. I’ve always got a wet one.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I had a chronic case of word vomit. I cringed and dropped my forehead to the table. Whatever sexy moment Chris and I had been having had long since passed. 

“That didn’t come out as planned,” I muttered, speaking into the table. 

Above me, I heard Chris’s chuckle. “Well, thank you for your wet one. It really helped clean the cream off my hands.”

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