Book Promo Feature – Saving Santa by Donna McDonald

Romance Promo Central is happy to welcome Donna McDonald to the blog! She’s here to share about her book, Saving Santa! if this book sounds like something that you would be interested in reading, please find some buy links below and pick up a copy or two!
SS_1600x2400-1Her Marine training hadn’t quite prepared her for saving St. Nick.

Like all bad deeds, her nickname for David North had finally come back to bite her on the butt. The too nice man she admired was determined to play Santa for the local Christmas parade while some shooting stalker was out there after him.

Megan Lynx had promised her brother to guard his best friend, but who was going to guard her from a childhood crush that had obviously not gone away? For a geek, the man could nearly kiss the hard-ass Marine right out of her. Only she couldn’t let him. At least not until she’d managed to save Santa.


Saving Santa is available from:

Amazon   |   B& N   |   Kobo   |   iTunes   |   Smashwords


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Donna McDonald is an active dreamer and finds writing to be the best way to use her creativity. Needing to satisfy both sides of Screen Shot 2014-11-23 at 12.33.05 PMher brain, she is a cross-genre author of contemporary, fantasy, and paranormal romances. Her books appear on bestseller lists for humor, romantic comedy, space opera, and more.

She craves laughter from her readers and focuses her attention on making that happen as often as possible. She loves to hear from anyone who has read her books.

Donna can be found:

Website   |   Facebook   | Twitter   |   Google+

Pinterest   |   Goodreads   |   Tumbler   |   Instagram


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“Did you learn anything useful?” Nicolas asked, inhaling Megan’s clean scent. He was tense from the strain of being polite to people he didn’t like. Megan’s smell soothed his senses after having had to breathe Tiffani’s cloying perfume all evening.

Megan nodded. “I validated pretty much all you told me about your mother, except I think things aren’t as great in her marital relationship as she’s led you to think. Your stepfather is not liked by his own children, much less you. He was never mentioned again by anyone after he left this evening. Oh. . .and Tiffani was sorely disappointed when you brought a date to dinner. Or so I heard. . .over and over.”

Nicolas pinched the bridge of his nose. He was never saying yes to his mother again. “We went to high school together. Tiffani is recently divorced, and on the prowl for a new husband. Seeing her was my mother’s idea, not mine. I did try to warn you before you agreed to come.”

“Stop. You don’t have to justify the presence of an attractive blonde hanging on your every word all evening. Besides, Dweeb 2—I mean Jefferson—informed me I wasn’t your type. He said all the women you date look just like Tiffani,” Megan declared.

She enjoyed his heavy, resigned sigh way too much as Nicolas turned his face to look out the window. But his quiet answer was disturbing.

“Jefferson is an ass, but in this case, he’s sort of right. It’s only because I don’t really date in the normal sense of the term. I just go out with women who pressure me into it—and only once in a while. They leave pretty quick when I can’t pay enough attention to them. I don’t. . .” Nicolas sighed and shook his head. “The rationalization I have for my dating failures seems so bad in my thoughts, I don’t think I can explain the theory aloud to you.”

Nicolas turned back and saw Megan’s gaze patiently waiting for him to find his balls and speak his thoughts anyway. He knew she would be prompting him shortly if he didn’t push through his distaste. Oddly, she was the only woman he could possibly ever admit something so honest to, but. . .oh, the hell with it.

“In general, pretty much all women bore me,” he admitted. Her giggling laugh over his confession caught him off-guard, just like nearly everything about her did. “What’s so damn funny about that? Don’t you think I’m a jerk?”

Megan shrugged. “I knew that was how you felt long before you told me. I could see how hard you were working to pay attention to what Tiffani with an ‘i’ was saying. Those brooding good looks of yours probably make you seem like the strong, silent type. I bet lots of people would be surprised how chatty you get when you’re comfortable.”

Nicolas shook his head again. “I’m not totally inept with women, just mostly inept. And I’m never chatty with anyone but you. I think it’s because you’re always arguing with me. Being reserved doesn’t often seem like an option.”

“I didn’t say you were inept with women. Don’t put words in my mouth, Dr. North.”

Megan turned in the car seat to look at him. All she got was his profile. His feelings were probably hurt, but she didn’t know how to be careful enough.

“You’re worried for no reason. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. Let me prove it to you. What color polish did Tiffani have on her fingernails?”

Nicolas snorted and barked out a laugh, surprised by the left field question. “And if I say I didn’t notice, will that count as an epic fail?” He studied his hands as he searched his memories for Tiffani’s fingers. He had basically ignored her when her skirt dance had started. Not that she had bad legs. They just weren’t as interesting as his stepbrothers staring at Megan’s breasts all evening.

“This is not a test, Dr. North. Work with me. Trying to make a point here,” Megan said sharply. “What do you remember about her? Anything at all?”

“Her perfume was way too strong. I like yours better. Why am I having déjà vu? I think we had this discussion earlier in the car.” He turned then and saw Megan smiling widely at him. What in hell had he said that pleased her so much? “Stop the questions. What are you going for here, Megan?”

“One more—what color toenail polish am I wearing right now?” Megan asked, knowing he hadn’t really taken the time to check.

Nicolas snorted. “Now I know this is a damn test and you know I didn’t notice. You normally don’t wear polish—or much makeup. The eyeliner you’re wearing has me spooked and don’t get me started again about the red lipstick. It was sexy on you, but I’m glad you didn’t reapply it. You look better with a naked mouth, and yes, I keep thinking about kissing you again.”

Megan crossed her arms. “I’m trying to point out something obvious to a man whose education didn’t extend far enough into social interactions. Blondie and I are two very different breeds of female. You seem physically immune to a certain kind of female and that’s not necessarily a flaw. After spending hundreds, maybe even thousands, of dollars on her appearance though, Tiffani with an ‘i’ would be devastated to know you didn’t find her memorable. Worse in my opinion is you thought she was both boring and stupid. Yet you remember lots of things about me and don’t seem to check your ego when we talk. Ergo. . .Dweeb 2 has to be wrong about your type. Your stepbrothers have a lot of assumptions where you’re concerned. I wish I’d had more time to visit with your stepfather. I’d love to find out what he thinks.”

Nicolas ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say. Do you think I’m a defective male because I didn’t have a typical reaction to Tiffani?”

Megan laughed. She was flirting with a nearly clueless man. . .and it was fun. Why did it only feel like this with the man beside her?

“No, you’re not defective, just not completely in touch with female reality. But then, no man is. I guess I’m just saying people are often more complicated than they appear. For example. . .my brother thinks I’m a lesbian because I like comfortable clothes and don’t date every guy who asks me out.”

“If you’re a lesbian, you’re definitely bi,” Nicolas declared, shaking his head at David’s crudeness which prompted his own. “But I don’t think you’re either. Are you?”

The brave part of her always had to elbow the shy part when the perfect opportunity presented itself. Megan put her arm down between them and leaned closer. “Why don’t you kiss me again, and let’s find out together? Tomorrow I’ll report to David about your dysfunctional family and you can vouch for my heterosexual leanings.”

Snorting at the teasing invitation to do what he already wanted to do, Nicolas reached out and grabbed her by the lapels of her alluring top. He tugged Megan to him with more force than he should probably have used with a woman wearing a loaded gun. His knuckles grazed her breasts in the process and caused his brain to short-circuit as he fought not to palm them. More and more of his Megan fantasies were coming true.

“Just to validate your conclusions, Jefferson was wrong—dead ass wrong—about what I like. But you don’t have to torture me with whatever this thing is we have between us. I’ve already told you I’ve never felt like this about anyone but you.”

“Torturing you! I’m not torturing you. I’m trying to flirt with you, but apparently I suck at it? Now shut up and kiss me, St. Nick. We’re going to be at my house long before you grow a real pair of bal. . .”

Her chastisement was swallowed by firm lips slanting across hers again. His tongue slid into her mouth with no hesitation to possessively stroke against her own. A mewling sound issued from her throat when he pulled back and stared at her like a starving man.

“That was just as nice as all the other times,” Megan said, nearly choking on the truth.