Saturday, December 18, 2021

Swiss Mistletoe and Macarons by Amey Zeigler



Today's cozy cookie romance is Swiss Mistletoe and Macarons by Amey Zeigler. Enjoy!



Blurb

Baking enthusiast Livi Hanson never misses Jean-Marc's online videos. Hoping to save money for pastry school, she agrees to nanny over Christmas break in Switzerland for generous overtime pay.

To expand his audience, pastry chef and internet star Jean-Marc Dobrinsky scores a contract for a network TV slot with one caveat: he needs an attractive co-host who equals him in the kitchen.

When she's invited to bake with Jean-Marc, Livi must prove she has the culinary chops, and Jean-Marc must put aside his pride. Can they rise to the challenge, or will it flop?

Read it today



Peek between the pages

The food looked perfect.

Jean-Marc surveyed the party held in the ballroom of the Grand Hôtel de Vevey. A young woman lingered near his pastries. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders in waves like ribbons of homemade caramel. Her figure had perfect curves. He switched out some platters near her. He’d seen her before, but where?

She brought a pastry to her nose. “A hint of cardamom and clove. Interesting choice.”

He arched a brow. She had to be an experienced smellier to pick out those flavors. He leaned

closer. “Did you try the lavender-honey baklava?”

She glanced up and then stepped back. A gasp left her lips.

He dropped his jaw. The young woman from the epicerie! Did she recognize him from the

store? Did she recognize him from the show?

Her eyes widened. “You!” she said in English.

A pastel blush tinged her cheeks. “Me!” He couldn’t help but be a little tickled at her surprise. A flash hit his stomach. “Where are your children? I hope you got them something to eat.”

Then her eyes narrowed. “They are not my children. And yes, I got them something to eat.”

She pointed to a table where the two sat and ate. “Are you often in the habit of making hungry

children wait for you?”

Not her children? He warmed inside. So she wasn’t their maman. “I needed those

strawberries for tonight.” Did she even know who she was talking to? He smirked.

She thrust up her chin. “You should never be in too much of a rush to be kind.”

“Don’t you think my efforts paid off?” He pointed to his masterpieces. Color and texture

mingled on the table. Aromas of orange, anise, and rose brushed against his nose. The strawberries—the very berries he bought at the last minute—stacked on top of a chocolate cake.

“Your cookies are too crunchy.”

She bit into one as if to prove her point. Sugar cookie crumbs fell from her perfect red lips. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms and studied her jeans, running trainers, and ponytail.

“You must be American.”


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