The Naughty, The Nice and The Nanny (Holiday Brothers, #1)

by Willa Nash

She wore a red tutu and matching glitter slippers. In one hand, she held a wooden spoon. In the other, a butcher’s knife. “You must be Violet,” I said. The angel.

Bless those school photographers. They had a true talent for bringing out every teenager’s inner awkward.

Violet was a tutu-toting terrorist, but there was no way in hell a seven-year-old girl was going to best me.

Red was most definitely her color, and not because there was a real possibility that she was Lucifer’s spawn.

I was patient in many ways, but when it came to gifts and orgasms, I preferred instant gratification.