Winter Kisses Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Winter Kisses

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Book Information:

A New England blizzard leaves me stranded on the side of the road as I’m driving up to my big sister’s house for the holidays. My plan is to use the break from my barista job to write a bestseller, but my beat-up old car has other ideas.
I think I’m lost. But then he finds me. And my world will never be the same again.
I don’t know who this silver fox is at first, with his iron hair and smirking lips, his seven-foot body rippling with muscles that all the heavy winter clothes in the world can’t hide. But my car’s busted and I haven’t got much choice but to trust him. I could be making a mistake. And yet somehow it feels oh-so-right.
Locked away in his winter cabin – more like a freaking mansion, spanning three stories and built into a formation of icy rock – I learn that he’s Wayne Wakefield, one of the richest, most powerful men in the world. He’s a forty-three year old billionaire who’d never be interested in a curvy, shy, nineteen year old dreamer like me.
But then things get so hot they could melt this cozy season. When this possessive alpha tells me I’m his, and his alone, I can’t quite believe it. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m a virgin and haven’t got any experience with immature high school douches, let alone a seasoned conqueror of the business world like Wayne. What the heck am I supposed to do?
But the inside of his cabin becomes our own private world. With an outdoor hot tub and a view of a frozen lake, with his gorgeous dog Rusty and a crackling fire, I learn that maybe I do deserve happiness. Maybe I do deserve love.
But what if I’ve let my imagination get the better of me again? What if Wayne Wakefield loses interest once he’s satisfied his carnal, irrepressible desire?
What if this winter is just too cold?
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari

Chapter One


I grip the steering wheel hard and stare through the windshield at the snow lashing down, getting thicker now, becoming a sheet of white that stops my high-beams about ten feet in front of me.

I take slow breaths, the air cold, this piece-of-crap car not doing much against the impressive New England winter.

The drive up from New York went well at first. I packed a lunch and fled the city, glad to have a break from the poor, week-to-week barista lifestyle I’ve been living. Waiting for my week’s paycheck just to scrounge enough together to make my way to the next week, coming home exhausted and then dragging myself to my old laptop to try and hammer out a few hundred words before collapsing into a messy lump on my Goodwill couch.

No, now I was going to stay with my older sister, Anna, the woman who had basically raised me after our parents died when I was just a little kid. I’m nineteen now, a grownup, and a smattering of snowfall isn’t going to make me quiver in defeat.

But as the car chugs along – with more miles on the odometer than I care to think about – I feel like a tiny insect crawling across a world of snow.

All around me, all I can hear is the rushing waterfall of the elements, and even if I could see through the windshield full of snow, I’m surrounded by a forest of pines that are coated with layers of barrier-like ice.

It would be beautiful, if my car was an SUV with snow-tires and I was speeding toward my sister’s house, where she lives with her fiancé. Anna’s always seemed to have life more figured out than me, and I don’t think it only comes down to the decade she has on me age-wise.

Somehow, I doubt that Anna would ever get stuck in the middle of a freaking blizzard in the middle of a freaking ice forest in the middle of freaking winter.

Winter is stuck in winter.

How poetic.

I sigh and glance at my map, seeing that I’m at least eighty miles from my sister’s house. I don’t think the car is going to make it that far. I’m thinking about pulling over and checking for a nearby town, blowing my last savings on a motel room, when—crank, the car shudders and starts to slow.

I curse and guide it to the side of the road.

“Well,” I whisper, “this is definitely not good.”

I sigh and sit back, hugging my jacket more tightly around myself and looking around the New England forest. Or, really, looking around the imposing whiteness that used to be a forest. Now I’m shrouded in a winter-wonderland blanket.

I take out my cell phone and call Anna.

“Winter?” she answers, on the second ring, her voice pitched high and crackly with the poor reception. “Don’t tell me you’re stuck out there in this snow.”

I bite my lip, pushing down the urge to whine to my big sister for help. Ever since I was six and she was sixteen, Anna had been my life raft, the person I clung to whenever things got difficult.

When she moved to New England to be with her fiancé, she felt so guilty leaving me behind. She even offered to have me move in with them, but of course that was madness. I didn’t want to be the third-wheel.

“I’m an adult,” I told her firmly. “I can take care of myself.”

I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to make it so that she could relax into her life and not have to drive herself cuckoo worrying about me all the time.

I still want all of that, even if the cold is starting to seep through the car windows and through my jacket and sweater.


“I’m fine, sis,” I say. “I’m just calling to let you know I might be delayed a little bit. I’m going to hunker down in a motel and wait for this to pass.”

Anna sighs, relief flooding the sound. “As long as you’re not stranded in the middle of the forest in a busted car.”

I almost laugh, her what-if is so accurate.

“No,” I say awkwardly. “Of course not.”

“Hmm, it’s a shame,” Anna murmurs. “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. But I guess one day won’t make that much difference. I get you for two weeks, after all. And by the end of it, sis, you’re going to be a bestseller writer.”

“Ha, ha,” I grunt. “Somehow I doubt that, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The whole point of my journey north is so that I can have some peace and quiet to work on my book. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve felt more comfortable in make-believe worlds than the real one, populating my mind with fantasies so that I don’t have to live in reality.