If you are a girl and you fall in love with a boy you see only once a year, on Christmas Eve, for many years, do you marry him when you get older and he insists upon it? You do if you’re Janie Dunn, living in nineteenth century Alabama, and your only other option is to remain under the thumb of a drunken and abusive father.
But the rash and impulsive marriage between Janie and Levi Atwood is hopelessly marred from the beginning. Janie disappears shortly after the ceremony, and the sheriff finds her father in their home, murdered with Janie’s knife.
But Levi refuses to give up hope, never believing either that Janie murdered her father or that she, herself, suffered the same fate. He keeps searching for years until he finds her. Then it is up to him to help her sort out the twisted web of intrigue that her life has become, and along the way to instill respect for him and for his hard hand and paddle on her bare bottom.
He also must prove to her how much he loves her, and how much he wants her to love him.
Publisher’s note: Under the Mistletoe contains depictions of adult spanking and sexual activity. If that subject matter offends you, please do not read this book.
Levi touched his hand to her chin and gently moved her face to look him in the eye. She
was uncomfortable as he studied her face. Then his eyebrow went up, and Janie knew it was
over. He had found her out.
“Janie Dunn Atwood, I know what you are thinking, young lady!”
Janie folded her arms across her chest and scooted a few inches away from her husband.
“No, you don’t, Levi Atwood. No one can read a person’s mind.”
Levi reached for her and slid her back to his side. “Well, I can read yours, and you are
still planning on running away, aren’t you?”
Janie bit down on her lip and whipped her face toward Levi and glared. “I will do as I
please. I am a grown woman.”
Levi grabbed her and sat her on his lap. “You are my wife and you are staying here, and
if you do run, I’m gonna add to the spanking you are going to get for running away in the first
Janie froze. Her stomach flip-flopped, but she tried to remain unaffected.
“You most certainly will not, Levi Atwood.”
“We will see.”