Just as it does in my life, holiday baking plays a big role in the Christmas celebrations of Mikah Cerullo’s Italian family. In the novel, Mikah is making his nonna’s treasured panettone, a sweet, citrusy holiday bread, for the first time on his own. In true Mikah fashion, he labors over every step to make sure the bread is perfect. I would like to say I’m more relaxed about my own holiday baking, but I can also be a bit of a perfectionist. I based Mikah’s grandmother’s recipe on the one I’ve been tinkering with for the past few holiday seasons. Two winners will get this custom recipe card with the panettone recipe as well as a signed print copy of A Christmas Cabin for Two. You can enter the giveaway here!
Check out A Christmas Cabin for Two today!
A match as perfect as cold nights and cozy fireside heat.
Gentle giant Matt Haskell and urbane teacher Mikah Cerullo are as opposite as the Teton Mountains and downtown Manhattan.
Hardworking organic farmer Matt has little time to think about love, but when Mikah, a sexy and snarky New Yorker, arrives at his farm to buy a Christmas tree for the family’s Jackson Hole mansion, the attraction is immediate for both of them, and they agree to share a cozy cabin in the Idaho woods. The clock is ticking on their holiday fling, since Mikah is due to take a teaching position back in the city, but as the holiday magic envelops them, they wonder if their budding romance might withstand their differences.
KD Fisher is a queer New England-based writer of authentic, heartfelt LGBTQ+ narratives. KD grew up all over the United States, bouncing from North Carolina to Hawaiʻi to Illinois, and finally settling in Maine where she spends far too much time at the beach.
When KD isn’t writing, she can usually be found hiking with her overly enthusiastic dog, obsessing over plants, or cooking elaborate meals. She loves classic country, perfectly ripe tomatoes, and falling asleep in the sun.
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I was about to climb back into the driver’s seat and steer us to any nursery or grocery store boasting even the sorriest of Christmas trees, when I was unceremoniously knocked to the ground. Frigid water and mud immediately soaked every inch of my clothing. I struggled to make sense of why the hell I was sprawled on the gravel. A large, wet tongue dragged over my face. Unaware I’d clamped my eyes shut, I cracked them open to find an enormous dog standing over my body, snuffling into my neck and pawing at my chest. It was so cute—with dopey eyes and silky brown, black, and white fur—I couldn’t even be angry that I’d been slammed onto the cold, slushy driveway. My fingers tangled into the dog’s coat, and a startled laugh erupted from my throat.
“Moose!” A low male voice sounded from a distance, and I tried to crane my neck to place the speaker. Not wanting to look like a total moron in front of some Idaho farmer dying to label me as a stuck-up city boy, I attempted to catch my breath. The dog had totally knocked the wind out of me. Elena was laughing in a wholly unhelpful way.
“Sorry.” A big hand, rough and dotted with silver- white scars, enveloped mine and hauled me to my feet. I turned, brushing at my soaked clothes and struggling to shrug off my humiliation. But when I lifted my gaze from the ground to the man in front of me, I froze. He was exactly the kind of guy I would silently lust over but would never work up the courage to talk to. He had windswept dark blond hair, surprisingly warm blue eyes, and an almost unfairly perfect square, stubbled jaw. And he was huge, a towering wall of bulk clad in a brown Carhartt jacket and faded jeans. But, somehow, he wasn’t intimidating. The man seemed to radiate a kind of earthy calm, like the molecules around him vibrated at a lower frequency. I could feel my mouth going a little slack as his eyes flicked from me to the dog, and a tiny smirk twitched his full lips.