A Christmas to Remember


By Jill Shalvis

By Kristen Ashley

By Hope Ramsay

By Molly Cannon

By Marilyn Pappano

Formats and Prices




$7.00 CAD



  1. Mass Market $6.00 $7.00 CAD
  2. ebook (Digital original) $5.99 $7.99 CAD

This item is a preorder. Your payment method will be charged immediately, and the product is expected to ship on or around September 30, 2014. This date is subject to change due to shipping delays beyond our control.

Curl up with this heartwarming Christmas collection!

Jill Shalvis, Dream a Little Dream: Melissa has kept every man at a safe distance-especially firefighter Ian, a sexy friend with sexy benefits. But Ian secretly longs for more. Luckily, ’tis the season for giving love a chance . . .

Kristen Ashley, Every Year: Holidays don’t come easy for Shy and his brother, Landon. But with the magic of Christmas, along with a little help from Tabby and her family, the Cage brothers are about to get the gift of a lifetime . . .

Hope Ramsay, Silent Night: Down on her luck and evicted from her apartment, single mother Maryanne hopes to start over in Last Chance. When the snow begins to fall, it looks like her baby might literally spend Christmas Eve in a manger. And Maryanne might celebrate the holiday with a handsome stranger.

Molly Cannon, Have Yourself a Messy Little Christmas: Lincoln is a bachelor who’s set in his ways-until a professional organizer dressed up as Mrs. Claus changes his life, one tip at a time. . .

Marilyn Pappano, A Family for Christmas: War widow Ilena doesn’t mind spending Christmas alone. But when a new doctor blows into town with the winter wind, will she get her secret Christmas wish?


Begin Reading

Table of Contents

Excerpt from He's So Fine by Jill Shalvis

Excerpt from Own the Wind by Kristen Ashley

Excerpt from Inn at Last Chance by Hope Ramsay

Excerpt from Flirting with Forever by Molly Cannon

Excerpt from A Love to Call Her Own by Marilyn Pappano


Copyright Page

In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

Dear Readers,

I was so excited to be able to write another Christmas short for the Lucky Harbor world. Sometimes secondary characters make a place for themselves in my heart. They get really comfortable there and refuse to leave until I write their story. That's what Ian and Melissa did, so really, you can thank them for this story. :)

Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. Some of my bestest family memories are attached to Christmas. Like getting bickering teenage girls to wrap presents for charity the year my arm was in a sling. You would have thought I was asking them to head out to the mines and do manual labor. But they did it; they wrapped all the presents, including the ones from me, holed up in their separate bunks so no one saw anyone else's goods.

Then they played Santa for me as well. We didn't get to bed until after 2 a.m. and still we woke up at the crack of dawn, excited, only to find that someone had left the sliding glass door ajar. Raccoons had come in and not only unwrapped everything but trashed it all as well. Complete Devastation. It took hours to clean up, and afterward, I expected bad moods. Didn't get it. Instead we all made breakfast together and, over bacon and eggs, told each other what we loved about each of us. It was the gift of words, and I've never been so proud of the girls or loved them more.

Ian and Melissa have a few things to tiff about in their story as well. But never fear, the spirit of the holiday prevails. After all, this is a Lucky Harbor story…

Love and happy holidays!


Dream a Little Dream

Jill Shalvis



Ian O'Mallery had been born a firefighter, but there were times when he wished he'd picked a career that didn't interrupt his sleep. Times like right now, when the fire alarm went off in the middle of a really hot dream starring the sexy, love-of-his-life-though-she-didn't-know-it Melissa Mann. She'd been right in the middle of blowing his mind—and his favorite body part—when the fire alarm pierced the dream and the vision scattered.

Damn. He listened as dispatch called out the engines required to respond. His, of course. Ian shoved on his gear, trying to push back the dregs of sleep. His dreams kept forgetting that he wasn't seeing Melissa anymore, that after months of being "friends with benefits" and then slowly segueing into a real relationship—at least on his part—she'd dumped the "benefits" part. A crying shame since they'd been the best damn benefits he'd ever had. But Melissa preferred serial dating to getting in too deep. These days they were… friends? Maybe. Sort of. Or not. But whatever they were now wasn't nearly as good as what they'd been.

The fire station was now ablaze with lights, everyone moving at a fast clip toward the rigs. Earlier, volunteers had decorated for Christmas with miles of garland and tinsel, and someone had left a CD of holiday tunes on repeat.

"Christmas is still two weeks off and already my ears are bleeding from that music," Justin, one of the other firefighters, muttered.

"Maybe next year we can tell people we'd rather have a new flat screen." This from Hunter, Justin's partner.

Focused on the task ahead of them, Ian ignored the chatter. As lieutenant of the squad, he had the iPad with the info coming in from dispatch. As they all climbed aboard, he glanced down at the address and froze. From years on the truck, he knew every single nook and cranny of Lucky Harbor, the North Pacific coastal town nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Olympic Mountains. For that matter, he knew the entire county. Hell, he could find his way through a wormhole all the way to Seattle if he had to.

This particular address was on the outskirts of town, in a neighborhood a few decades past needing a renovation. There were few single family homes. Instead it was mostly apartment buildings, built close together with yards that consisted of dead grass and litter.

This particular three-story building was a known problem. The third floor held a group of party animals who regularly had the police called on them by the other floors.

But that wasn't his biggest issue right now. Nope, that honor went to the fact that Melissa lived on the second floor, and according to dispatch, the building currently had flames shooting out of the top windows and roof.

As they continued to race toward the scene, Ian yanked out his cell phone and called her. His call went straight to voice mail. "Tell me you're out of the building," he said. "Call me. Text me. Anything." He shoved the phone back in his pocket and willed the truck to go faster as he remembered the last time they'd been out together. It'd been six months ago. He'd picked her up from the beauty salon she managed and had taken her to dinner. They'd gone to a seafood place a few towns over, on the water, and she'd hand-fed him lobster, laughing when butter had dribbled down his chin.

"Whoops." Leaning in, she nibbled it off, making sure to kiss one corner of his mouth, and then the other, holding eye contact with him the whole time as her hands traveled south down his chest.

Without taking his gaze off Mel, he handed a passing waiter his credit card.

She laughed as they got the rest of the food to go.

They didn't make it to either of their places. Instead they went to a secluded beach, climbed up the bluffs by starlight until they found a private little plateau that overlooked the water, and had a picnic that had nothing to do with food.

When he finally brought her home, a police squad car was in her lot. One of the idiots on the top floor had let a party get out of control.


Ian held on to Melissa when she went to get out of his truck. "You need to move," he said. Not a new conversation for them. "Closer to town, to a better neighborhood. I can help you find a place."

"I'm working my way out of debt," she reminded him. "You know I can't put down a new security deposit and first and last months' rent."

There was a solution to that. "Move in with me."

She sucked in a breath. Her bright green eyes went even brighter, but she shook her head. "Don't be silly. I'd drive you nuts in a week, tops."

"You drive me nuts now," he teased.

She put a finger over his lips, stared at his mouth for a long time, and then looked into his eyes. "You, Ian O'Mallery," she whispered, "terrify me."

"Me? I'm a pussy cat."

She laughed her wonderful laugh and kissed him. "Yeah. If a wild mountain lion counts as a pussy cat."

Knowing she'd had it rough, that letting someone in was hard for her, his smile faded. "You have nothing to be afraid of with me, Mel."

She held his gaze but didn't respond.

"You're still not ready," he guessed softly.

"I'm working on it," she said, just as softly.

Glancing at her building, he felt his jaw tighten, but nodded. What else could he do? "Work faster."

Instead, she'd broken things off the next day.

The radio crackled to life, jarring him back.

"Victims trapped on the top floor," reported the dispatcher.

It was midnight, ensuring that the building was filled with its tenants.

"Shit," Justin muttered at his side.

They pulled into the lot. The police had beat them to the call and were out of their vehicles, holding back traffic.

The building was engulfed, and Ian's heart stopped when he saw several terrified faces peeking out of the second- and third-story windows.

One of the cops jogged over. "Apparently the building isn't up to code," he said tersely. "A tenant told us the landlord had forbidden Christmas lights because of it, but that the idiots on the top floor had used them anyway. Someone up there had a party tonight, and their Christmas tree went up in smoke and caught the curtains. That was all it took."

A few lucky people had somehow gotten out and were sitting on the curb in their pj's, in shock.

Melissa wasn't one of them, but her car was in the lot, which meant one thing—she was still in the building.

Ian leaped into the fray, barking out directions to the men in his charge, one word bouncing in his head on repeat.




Melissa clutched her ears, grimacing at the pounding in her head, which was pulsing in tune to the fire alarm still going off somewhere nearby. She'd awoken to it, and smoke so thick she couldn't breathe. She'd immediately grabbed the blanket from her bed, wrapped herself up, and crawled to the door.

Hot. Everything was so hot she felt like she was melting.

Panic had taken over for a moment but she reminded herself she hadn't survived the things she'd already been through to go out like this. She pulled her T-shirt up over her nose and mouth and crawled to the window.

Stuck. Again. The damn landlord hadn't gotten to it yet. Not that it mattered; it was too far to jump. Ian was right about moving. Ian… God. She'd made a mess of her dating life, always flitting from one man to the next without getting in too far. Without giving anyone a piece of herself.

But with Ian, she'd been incapable of holding back, of keeping her walls up. She missed his hard, chiseled body and the way he used it to take hers. She missed his sweet baby blues that were deceptively playful, and how they heated after he kissed her. She missed how he never let her hide, how he kept at her until he knew her secrets, all of them.

She missed him.

She coughed until her ribs hurt, and she looked around, wondering what the hell to do. The air was so thick and so hot that she couldn't suck a breath into her lungs. There was too much smoke, and no viable exit. A second wave of panic consumed her, and desperate to make a smart move, she crawled into her bathroom and to the coolest spot she could find—her tub.

Smoke snaked under the bathroom door. She stuffed towels beneath it and waited for her life to flash before her eyes. She wouldn't mind revisiting some of the good stuff about now. But instead, she thought about all her regrets, and there were many. Having grown up under the strict thumb of her parents, she'd rebelled early. They'd simply turned their backs on her. One strike and she'd been out. Fine. She'd gone on without them, living in the moment for years, never letting herself plan for the future. She'd been friends with the wrong girls, gone out with the wrong men, and made some wrong choices. Burned to the point that she'd changed her tactics to avoiding any real attachments—even when the man of her dreams had come along, never really believing he could be hers.

Anyone who knew her thought of her as wildly independent and brave. But the brave part was a lie. A big, fat lie. She was a chicken, too afraid to get hurt.

Above her, the ceiling started to collapse, and she thought how dumb she'd been because here she was, about to get really hurt. She was going to die here, and that pissed her off. She had a full bag of chocolate chips she'd not eaten so she'd be bikini-ready this summer. She'd spent her paycheck paying off the last of her credit card debt instead of going to Seattle for a shopping trip. She hadn't had a chance to try out the new hair care products that had arrived at her salon yesterday.

And worst of all, six months ago she'd looked into Ian's eyes and felt her entire heart melt, and she'd walked away instead of risking her heart.

And now she was going to die.

Over her own coughing, she heard someone yelling her name.


She clutched the side of the tub and strained to hear over the roar of the blood in her ears. Had she conjured him up, or had he really arrived? "I'm here!" she tried to yell, but her smoke-ravaged voice didn't carry far, and yet another coughing spasm overtook her.

No one came. Not Ian, not anyone, and she hugged her legs in close and dropped her head to her knees with a little sob.

Then, from above her came a terrible creaking and groaning, as if the entire building was about to cave in. She screamed as a heavy piece of burning ceiling broke free. She dodged that one but the next hit her hard, and she screamed again.

The bathroom door burst open to a firefighter in full gear, looking like a vision with flames behind him.

"Ian?" she tried to ask past her ravaged throat, having to hold her aching head up with her hands.

He said something into his radio, which she couldn't catch. She couldn't hear a thing over the loud roaring around her. He dropped to his knees before her, and she nearly cried in relief. It was Ian. She could see his intent, urgent expression behind his face mask. He was saying something to her; she just couldn't grasp it. Then he was scooping her out of the tub and into his arms, cradling her close, taking them both clear just as more of the ceiling crashed into the tub.

Oh my God… She clutched at him, even as her head spun and ached so badly she thought she was going to be sick. "You came for me," she managed past her raw throat. Marveled. He'd literally walked through fire for her. For her. "No one's ever done that…"

Tightening his grip on her, he turned to the door to get her out of there. She wanted to tell him she could walk, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything but float in her own thoughts. When he'd asked her to give them a real shot at having a relationship, she'd dug in her heels and let her need for independence push him away.

That's what she did. She pushed people away until she was alone. Her stubbornness and determination to make it on her own had always been stronger than her good sense.

But he'd never gone far.

Around them, the whole place was crashing in, and she cringed, clutching at Ian's fire gear.

"You're okay, you're safe now," he said, and she stared at his mouth, reading the words.

She was safe. Because he'd made her so. Usually she relied only on herself. Always, she relied only on herself.

But not this time.

"Mel, look at me."

She was trying, honest to God she was trying to keep her eyes open and on him, but her head hurt like a bitch, and worse, everything was going dark. Her eyes were closing. Logically she knew this, and she attempted to open them again but her lids were too heavy…

"No, don't you dare leave me," Ian said firmly, voice low and gruff, muted by his gear. "Open your eyes, babe."

Damn, she loved that tough, obey-me voice of his. When he spoke like that, she wanted to give him the moon.

But she'd never been able to give him what he needed, never, and she let the dark take her…



Ian raced down the stairs with Melissa in his arms, his gaze on her ashen face.

You came for me, she'd murmured, the surprise in her voice slicing through him. She had no idea what he'd do for her—and that was their biggest problem.

He'd grown up in a big, boisterous, loving family, but not Melissa. She'd never had someone at her back like he had. She'd never experienced unconditional love, and as a result, she didn't trust it. "I've got you," he told her as he ran out of the burning building. "Always will."

He was met just outside the burning building by Cindy, pushing a gurney toward them. The paramedic took over, but Ian kept a firm hold of Melissa's hand. She was out cold, bleeding from various cuts, including a deep one on her temple. "She was conscious," he said.

"How long has she been out?"

"Two minutes."

Cindy, a longtime friend, put her hand over his and squeezed gently. "We'll take good care of her."

He knew that, but damn it was hard to let go. Leaning over Melissa, he whispered, "Always."

Cindy flashed him a sympathetic smile as she and her partner pushed the gurney toward the ambulance, and Ian was forced to put thoughts of Melissa aside and turn back to the scene. They pulled ten more people from the building with various degrees of injuries, ranging from first- and second-degree burns to broken bones to smoke inhalation. Not good, but it could have been much worse.

He'd heard nothing about Melissa's condition, and it was two interminably long hours before he could get to the hospital to check for himself. "Melissa Mann," he said at the front desk, "brought in from—"

"Tonight's fire." The woman nodded. "She's here."


"Last I heard she was in x-ray but—"

He strode down the hall and rounded the corner to the x-ray department.

It was empty.

His heart stopped, and he whirled around, nearly plowing over the receptionist, who'd followed him. "But," the unflappable woman went on, as if he hadn't walked away from her in the middle of a sentence, "if she's done there, she's been brought upstairs. Room two-ten."

He took the stairs instead of waiting for an elevator and stopped at the nurse's desk. He knew Dottie. They'd gone to school together and had dated in their freshman year. And their junior year. And then about three years back for a few months, until they remembered that they didn't like each other for more than a week at a time.

Dottie smiled at him. "Hey, Hot Stuff. You look like you fought the good fight tonight. You were on that apartment building fire?"

"Yeah. You've got Melissa Mann in room two-ten. How is she?"

She grimaced sympathetically. "Honey, you know I can't divulge information except to next of kin."

Yeah, he knew. And if he'd been successful at convincing Melissa to move in with him, he might've convinced her to marry him next, and then they would be next of kin. "We're seeing each other."

Dottie expressed surprise with a lifted brow. "I didn't know that."

Few had. They'd kept it quiet—Ian because he liked having something to himself in a town that loved gossip more than just about anything, and Mel because… well, because what they'd had scared her. "How about her parents? Have they been notified?" To say that Melissa wasn't close to her judgmental parents was an understatement, but they should be told.

"We're here."

Ian whipped around to face them. That they'd already made it from Seattle told him they'd sped here, which wasn't helping his impending heart attack any.

"How is she?" her father asked.

Dottie stood up. "Dr. Josh Scott's in with her now. I'll get him for you."

Five minutes later, Ian stood next to her parents as Dr. Scott gave the news. Minor concussion accompanied by some swelling. The plan—watch and wait—was something he should be good at by now but had never mastered.

Three hours later it was nearly dawn, and Ian was alone in Melissa's hospital room. Her parents had gone to the B&B for the night to get some rest. The lights were still dimmed, and the monitors beeped and hissed softly.

Melissa was still out.

The doctor had assured both him and her parents that this was okay, that her brain was taking the rest it needed, and that her last scan looked clear. She was young and strong and vital. They'd know more by morning.

But Ian knew better than most that a clear scan didn't always mean jack-shit. A little over a year ago, he'd lost his sister Ella to a head trauma after a skiing accident. The doctors had stood at her bedside, where Ella lay in a coma, and said the prognosis was tentatively "looking good."

Confident in their word, Ian had gone back to work for the rest of his shift, leaving Ella with the rest of the family to stand vigil.

Ella had died before dawn. She hadn't died alone, but she'd died without Ian.

He wasn't going back to work this time. Nope, he was sitting right here, his hand gripping Melissa's, and he was going to keep holding it for as long as it took.

A nurse came in to check her vitals. "Talk to her," she suggested. "I think it helps them find their way back to us."

When the nurse was gone, Ian looked into Melissa's still face. So unlike her. Awake, Melissa was the life of the party, more alive than anyone he knew. "Mel." He stroked the hair from her face, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her temple where she'd been stitched up. "I was about sixty seconds too late getting to you. Bad timing." He blew out a breath. Just like their relationship. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. "I miss you, babe."

Her fingers tightened on his, just a reflexive gesture he knew, but his gaze flew to her face. "Mel? Can you hear me?"

Nothing, but he took heart anyway. "I'm right here," he promised, leaning closer. "And I'm not going anywhere."

The beeps and hisses of the machine were his only answer. Talk to her, the nurse had said. Ian wasn't, and never had been, a big talker. That was one of Melissa's biggest complaints, actually. "I dreamed about us last night," he said, and let out a breath. What the hell. No one was listening. "I dreamed we'd worked things out. We were doing up Christmas like I haven't since…" He broke off.

Melissa had known he hadn't celebrated Christmas last year, that he hadn't celebrated anything since Ella had died. Hell, he hadn't even managed to go back to his parents' house, only a two-hour drive away. He'd tried a few times but found he couldn't do it, forcing his family to come to Lucky Harbor when they wanted to see him. "There's more," he said softly. "You brought a tree for my place. Our place," he corrected. "You got me over the hump on that, Mel." He had to smile at the memory. "And you were dressed up as an elf." A sexy-as-hell elf whose little green outfit—emphasis on little—had shown off her gorgeous curves to perfection. "You'd made cookies to leave out for Santa," he went on, "and the house was lit up like… well, like Christmas." He smiled again because generally he was the only one who cooked. "We had…" He broke off to drop his forehead to their linked hands and let out a low laugh because he couldn't believe he was saying this. "We had a kid. A little girl who had your beautiful eyes and smile. You named her Molly." His throat tightened. "We were married, which means that I must have eventually worn you down, right?"

Melissa still didn't answer, didn't move, and he let out a long, shaky exhale. "Just wake up, Mel. I know we're not together, and that none of what I dreamed matters anymore, but just wake up. I can handle you not in my life if I have to, but I can't handle you not having a life."



Melissa shuddered out a sigh as her dream began. It was Christmas, and she was dressed in a… sexy elf costume? Huh. Interesting since she'd given up the crazy partying a few years back. But it got more interesting. The dream was being narrated by Ian. She could hear his voice, and God how she loved the timbre of it, low and slightly husky, talking about how she'd made cookies for Santa and decorated the house.

Okay, so she wasn't at a party. Or at least if she was, it was a party for two. Then the vision panned out like a wide-angle camera, and she realized she was in Ian's house, standing by a huge Christmas tree, and she was holding the sweetest little baby she'd ever seen. Theirs. Ian was looking at them, "his women" as he called them, "Mel and Molly." Wanting to memorize this, wanting to memorize everything, she took a wild look around. Ian's mouth was still moving but suddenly she couldn't hear him. All she could hear was an annoying beep, beep, beep

Melissa opened her eyes to an antiseptic smell and the beeping of monitors. Oh, crap. A hospital. Her first thought was don't make me wake up, I love this dream! Her second thought was that she had a huge insurance deductible, and—

"How do you feel?"

Turning her head, she found Ian sitting in the chair next to her bed. Six months, and her heart still clutched every single time she saw him. She kept waiting for that to go away, wondering when her pulse would stop leaping from just being near him. Hell, she didn't even have to be near him to feel it. She could simply think of him and it would happen.

She'd been so certain that would fade after she'd slept with him. Their first night had been a crazy, wild, sex-on-the-beach thing that still revved her engines when she thought about it. Not a thing had faded. Instead, it'd gotten better and better.

She hadn't been the same since she'd broken things off, and that baffled her to the core. She'd never been the type of woman to need a man. Enjoy, yes. Need? She knew how to get the most out of life without one. But with Ian, everything had been different. He'd never tried to control her, tell her what to do, or who to be. He'd accepted her as she was, flaws and all.

And she'd still pushed him away. She'd regretted it instantly, but hadn't had any idea how to fix it.

But that had been before her dream.

Now, she still didn't know how to get him back, but she knew she had to try because she wanted the life she'd envisioned. Desperately. "I saw you," she whispered. Or tried to. Barely recognizing her own raw, scratchy voice, she tried to sit up and gasped as her head swam.

Ian was there in a blink, hands on her, lowering her back to the bed. "Easy," he said. "You don't have your sea legs yet."

"What happened?"

His eyes met hers. "You don't remember?"


  • "A heartfelt and heartwarming collection."—RT Book Reviews

On Sale
Sep 30, 2014
Page Count
352 pages

Jill Shalvis

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.

Learn more about this author

Kristen Ashley

About the Author

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over sixty romance novels including the Rock Chick, Colorado Mountain, Dream Man, Chaos, Unfinished Heroes, The ’Burg, Magdalene, Fantasyland, The Three, Ghost and Reincarnation and Honey series along with several standalone novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in thirteen languages and she’s sold nearly three million books.

Kristen’s novel, Law Man, won the RT Book ReviewsReviewer’s Choice Award for best Romantic Suspense, her independently published title Hold On was nominated for RT Book Reviews best Independent Contemporary Romance and her traditionally published title Breathe was nominated for best Contemporary Romance. Kristen’s titles Motorcycle Man, The Will, and Ride Steady (which won the Reader’s Choice award fromRomance Reviews) all made the final rounds for Goodreads Choice Awards in the Romance category.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana, was a fourth generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.

Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community.

The mission of the Rock Chick Nation is to live your best life, be true to your true self, recognize your beauty, and last but definitely not least, take your sister’s back whether they’re at your side as friends and family or if they’re thousands of miles away and you don’t even know who they are. The programs of the RC Nation include Rock Chick Rendezvous, weekends Kristen organizes full of parties and get-togethers to bring the sisterhood together, Rock Chick Recharges, evenings Kristen arranges for women who have been nominated to receive a special night, and Rock Chick Rewards, an ongoing program that raises funds for nonprofit women’s organizations Kristen’s readers nominate. Kristen’s Rock Chick Rewards have donated over $125,000 to charity and this number continues to rise.

You can read more about Kristen, her titles and the Rock Chick Nation at KristenAshley.net.

Learn more about this author