A Magical Christmas: Daddy by Christmas / Greek Doctor: One Magical Christmas / The Christmas Baby Bump

Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Daddy by Christmas (#ulink_bcc0d54f-3611-50cb-b409-b16954d74b0f)

Originally born and raised in Muncie, Indiana, PATRICIA THAYER is the second of eight children. She attended Ball State University, and soon afterwards headed West. Over the years she’s made frequent visits back to the Midwest, trying to keep up with her growing family.

Patricia has called Orange County, California, home for many years. She not only enjoys the warm climate, but also the company and support of other published authors in the local writers’ organisation. For the past eighteen years she has had the unwavering support and encouragement of her critique group. It’s a sisterhood like no other.

When not working on a story, you might find her travelling the United States and Europe, taking in the scenery and doing story research while thoroughly enjoying herself, accompanied by Steve, her husband for over thirty-five years. Together they have three grown sons and four grandsons. As she calls them, her own true-life heroes. On rare days off from writing, you might catch her at Disneyland, spoiling those grandkids rotten! She also volunteers for the Grandparent Autism Network.

Patricia has written for over twenty years and has authored over thirty-six books for Mills & Boon. She has been nominated for both the National Readers’ Choice Award and the prestigious RITA

. Her book Nothing Short of a Miracle won an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice award.

A long-time member of Romance Writers of America, she has served as President and held many other board positions for her local chapter in Orange County. She’s a firm believer in giving back.

Check her website at www.patriciathayer.com (http://www.patriciathayer.com) for upcoming books.

To my own little heroes,

Harrison, Griffin, Connor and Finley.

You’re the light of life.

Chapter One (#ulink_f5ab1459-2983-5cd4-bd0a-83b7fbc1a455)

SHE hated relying on a man.

Mia Saunders glanced around the filled-to-capacity community room at the Mountain View Apartments complex. It was already decorated for Thanksgiving and the tenants were hopeful that they would still be living here at the end of November.

At one of the many card tables were Emma and Charlie Lowery. They’d lived here for over twenty years. So had the Nordbergs, along with Second World War veteran and widower, Ralph Parkinson. They’d all come here for the same reason—affordable rent gave seniors on fixed incomes some independence.

At the age of twenty-nine, Mia was an exception, one of the few, younger tenants who lived in the aging apartment complex.

“You’ve got to help us, Mia!”

She turned to tiny, gray-haired Nola Madison standing beside her. She was a widow who had lived in the complex since her husband’s death ten years ago. With social security and a small pension, Nola could survive living alone here without burdening her children.

“Nola, I’m going to try, but I’m not sure how much I can do.”

“You’re a lawyer,” Nola said, her soft hazel eyes seeming larger behind her bifocals.

“Not yet. I’ve only just started law school.” That had been put on hold this past semester and she had no idea when she could start up again.

“But you will talk to the owner for us when he gets here.”

“If he gets here,” Mia added. So far that hadn’t happened. They’d tried a half-dozen times to have a meeting with the man to discuss the fifty-year-old apartment complex’s crumbling condition. No improvements had been done in years.

“It seems the new owner has been avoiding us.”

“Well, he has good reason. He doesn’t want to fix things any more than the last owner.” Joe Carson, another of the elderly tenants, spoke up behind her. That got the crowd going.

Mia waved her hand and they quieted down. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. In all fairness…” She glanced down at the paper. “Mr. Jarrett McKane only took possession of this property a few months ago.”

“McKane,” Nola repeated. “I wonder if he’s any relation to the teacher at the high school, Kira McKane. My granddaughter, Hannah, talks about her all the time.”

Joe stepped forward. “I don’t care who he’s related to, he has to take care of our demands.”

Joe’s wife, Sylvia, gasped. “What if he evicts us?”

That started more grumbles around the crowded room.

Mia eyed the tenants she’d gotten to know since coming to Winchester Ridge when her brother, Reverend Bradley Saunders, took over as pastor of the First Community Church a half mile away. She’d found a one-bedroom apartment in the affordable complex about three years ago when Brad and his wife, Karen, decided to make the small Colorado ranching community a permanent home. It was a perfect place for raising a family.

All Mia’s life, it had been her brother who’d been there for her. Brad had never given up on his little sister, even when she gave up on herself. Over the years, he’d pulled her back from some pretty dark places, and let her know that she was important and loved. When their parents disowned her, Brad stood by her and helped her get her act together and get into college.

She’d do anything for him. Sadness washed over Mia, knowing she would never get the chance again.

Sam Parker hurried into the room and called out, “One of those fancy SUVs just pulled up. A shiny black one.”

Those standing scurried to find a seat as if they’d been caught doing something wrong. Mia didn’t rush much these days, but she felt the excitement and nervousness as she took a chair at the head table, and then turned her attention toward the door.

Nothing had prepared her for this man.

Jarrett McKane walked into the room as if he owned it. That was because he did. He was well over six feet, and his sheepskin jacket made him look ever bigger as his broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. There was a brooding look in his ebony eyes that made him look intimidating.

It didn’t work on her.