Synopsis

Jingles by USA Today bestselling author D.F. Jones is a heartwarming tale set in the picturesque town of HollyHaven, where Christmas magic is more real than anyone could imagine. At the heart of this magic is Jingles, a beloved Christmas shop that has always been the town’s festive centerpiece. But this year, something is different—the magic is fading, and the very spirit of Christmas hangs in the balance.

Enter Nick, the reluctant heir to the Claus legacy, who’s been tasked with saving Christmas before it’s too late. While Nick knows the pressure is on, he isn’t expecting the key to saving the holiday to come in the form of Clara, a talented baker who runs the town’s cozy café, The Cinnamon Stick. Clara, still healing from past heartbreaks, has wrapped herself in the warmth of her bakery, keeping her heart and belief in magic safely guarded.

As Nick and Clara’s paths cross, sparks fly, and magical happenings begin to unfold around them. Nick sees something special in Clara—something that might just be the answer to restoring the holiday magic. But more than that, he feels a growing connection he can’t explain.

With Christmas Eve fast approaching, Nick must convince Clara to believe in the magic of the season and the love blossoming between them. Together, they must find a way to restore Christmas before it fades away forever.

Jingles is a feel-good, magical romance filled with the joy of the holiday season, perfect for anyone who loves a good dose of Christmas spirit, love, and second chances. It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes, the greatest magic of all is simply believing.

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Excerpt

Nick ran his fingers over the delicate, gilded edges of the ancient book, its weight heavy in his lap, both literally and figuratively. The Saint Nicholas Revelation. The magic of Christmas resting on his shoulders? He had always imagined he’d carry on the family traditions, but not like this—not with the ticking of an unseen celestial clock urging him forward.

His father, Nicholas Sr., stood across from him, eyes weathered by centuries yet still bright with the same magic that pulsed through the very fabric of their family. He had seen countless Christmases come and go, carrying the burden of wonder and joy on his back like a well-worn cloak. But now, the mantle would fall to Nick, and it felt impossibly heavy. Between them hung a silent bond of understanding. The older man had walked this path once before, and while his demeanor was as steadfast as the North Star, Nick could feel his father’s concern beneath the surface.

“What if I don’t want to fulfill the prophecy?” Nick’s voice wavered, betraying the doubt that had crept in under the cover of the predawn hours when uncertainty tends to dig deep.

Nicholas Sr.’s eyes softened, though his voice carried the weight of centuries. “It’s not about wanting, son. It’s about destiny. The magic isn’t just a job—it’s in our blood, the essence of who we are.

There was a time when I asked myself the same question.” He paused, his gaze steady as he stepped closer. “But I won’t force you into anything. You’ve always had free will, just as I did. The choice is yours, but know this: without the magic, Christmas as the world knows it might just become another winter day. The joy and hope fade without someone to keep the spark alive.”

Nick swallowed, his throat dry as if the weight of his decision had sucked the moisture from the air. “But what if I fail? What if I’m not strong enough? You’ve had centuries to perfect it… I’m just—” He hesitated, unsure of how to put into words the inadequacy that gnawed at him. “I’m not you.”

A gentle and knowing smile tugged at the corner of his father’s mouth. “I never expected you to be. Each of us carries the magic in our way. I wasn’t my father either. But the magic… it grows with you, Nick. It shapes itself around your heart, your desires, your dreams. And yes, your fears, too.”

Nick’s hands gripped the book’s edges, feeling the ancient, worn leather under his palms. It was alive with an energy he didn’t fully understand yet. “What if the magic’s not enough?”

Nicholas Sr. went to him, placing a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “The magic is always enough. The question is, will you allow it to be? This world, this time we live in, needs more than ever what we have. It needs belief, Nick. Not just in the magic of Christmas but in something greater. In hope, in light, in the power of love to heal what’s broken.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the faint sound of the wind outside, gently brushing against the frosted windowpanes. Nick nodded, feeling the gravity of his potential choice settle over him like a cloak of invisible snow. He looked down at the book in his lap, which now seemed to pulse with ancient, expectant magic as though it were waiting for him to open it to begin the next chapter in their family’s story.

“The magic may be enough,” Nick said, finally meeting his father’s eyes. “But I’m not sure I am.” Nick turned his gaze to the large sash windows, where the snow-covered peaks of Reflection Ridge sparkled like a thousand diamonds under the afternoon sun. The sight was familiar, yet today, it felt distant. For a fleeting moment, he imagined life without the enchantment of the mountain, without the reindeer or the elves bustling about the workshops, and without the secret joy of slipping through time and space to bring wonder to children everywhere. Could he really bear the weight of that loss? “What about the store? What about Jingles? Items are selling like crazy, and the sales help create funds for those in need.”

Nicholas Sr. leaned back, his eyes reflecting the deep connection between their family’s magic and the store. “Jingles isn’t just a store, Nick. It’s an extension of you, of the magic that runs through your veins. Every ornament, every stocking, every trinket sold carries a touch of that magic. It’s why people feel a little more joy when they walk out of those doors, why they believe just a bit more. The magic within you breathes life into Jingles, and in turn, Jingles spreads that magic out into the world.”

Nick’s brows furrowed. “So, you’re saying if I don’t fulfill my destiny—if I step away—the magic in Jingles fades?”

His father nodded slowly. “That’s right. The store thrives because your belief and commitment to Christmas are embedded in every aspect of it. Without that, without you, Jingles becomes just another quaint holiday shop. The enchantment fades. It’s not just about selling ornaments; it’s about keeping the spirit alive. If your magic dims, so does the store’s. It’s all interconnected.”

Nick swallowed hard, the gravity of it all sinking in. But then a thought surfaced, one that gave him hope. “If I want to keep the store after the transition, is that possible?”

His father’s lips curved into a warm smile, the twinkle of Christmas magic in his eyes. “With Christmas magic, everything is possible, Nick. You can continue, Jingles—you can continue everything, but it must come from the heart. The Magic is about more than fulfilling a duty. It’s about love, belief, and a willingness to embrace the unknown. The store can thrive as long as you carry those things with you.”

Nick breathed out slowly, a tiny flicker of reassurance settling within him. He wasn’t just stepping into his father’s shoes—he could make this legacy his own. Nick took a deep breath and exhaled, the weight of the decision pressing in on him. “How does the transition take place, Father?”

Nicholas Sr. smiled, a gleam in his eye that Nick hadn’t seen in a while. “It starts with finding your soul mate. Without Mrs. Claus, the North Pole wouldn’t work how it needs to. Your mother and I have kept this going for centuries, but we’re ready to retire, to hand over the reins, so to speak, to you and a new generation.”

Nick blinked, feeling the ground beneath him shift. The enormity of it all—a legacy more significant than anyone—hit him anew. His father’s words echoed in his mind. A soul mate? It wasn’t just about magic, the North Pole, or Christmas. It was about partnership, about love. That, more than anything, had been the key all along.

“A soul mate? I don’t understand,” Nick muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his turmoil. “How does this even work? Am I supposed to conjure her with a spell? How do I find this woman—the one destined to be my partner of Christmas?”

Nicholas Sr. let out a chuckle, the sound tinged with nostalgia. “Love isn’t conjured, Nick. There’s no spell for it, no incantation. It’s not a trick or a treat. She’ll find her way to you, as your mother did to me, turning everything extraordinary in the most mundane moments.”

Nick frowned, the gears of logic turning in his mind. “But how will I even know? What if she’s just—” He waved his hand vaguely, “—some mortal passing through? What if she doesn’t believe in magic at all?”

“Ah,” his father said, his eyes twinkling with a secret knowledge. “That’s the tricky part. The magic only reveals itself to those who believe. She’ll see it if she’s the one, just like your mother did. But you can’t force it. You can’t rush the magic.”

Nick wasn’t convinced. “And what if she doesn’t come at all?” He asked the question again, frustration creeping into his voice like frost over the windowpane. “What if I’m not cut out for this? For love, for magic, for any of it?”

His father tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wavering. “Then we live as mortals, and the world turns,” he said. “We adapt. We let Christmas become just another day on the calendar.”

Nick felt a surge of indignation at the thought. Adapt? That wasn’t in their blood. Adapting was for people who settled, who gave up the extraordinary for the mundane. His jaw tightened, a flicker of resolve igniting deep within him.

“I won’t let that happen,” Nick muttered under his breath, though the conviction rang between them like the unmistakable chime of a sleigh bell.

Nicholas Sr. smiled knowingly, a twinkle in his eye suggesting he’d once stood in this spot, facing the same dilemma. But he didn’t press further, allowing the weight of Nick’s choice to settle around them like the snow falling outside.

The room seemed to hum with ancient magic as if waiting for Nick’s next move. One thing was sure: time wouldn’t wait for him forever.

– Excerpted from Jingles by D.F. Jones, D.F. Jones, 2024. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author

Ever wonder what it’s like to step into a world where angels, demons, witches, wizards, and time travel collide? That’s the magic D.F. Jones weaves into every story she tells—worlds where the supernatural and romance meet, pulling you in until reality and fantasy blur in the best way possible.

Before she became the USA Today bestselling author, D.F. Jones had a pretty different gig. She worked as a broadcast consultant at an ABC Affiliate in Nashville. But then, in 2015, she decided to downsize her ad agency to take care of her family and focus on something constantly tugging at her heart—writing fiction.

Writing, for her, is more than just putting words on a page. It’s her escape, a place where the stress of everyday life melts away, and anything is possible. And she wants to share that world with you. The stories she crafts aren’t just filled with magic—they’re packed with action, love, and characters you’ll be thinking about long after you turn the last page.

At home, D.F. Jones shares a love story of her own. She’s married to her best friend, a man who keeps her laughing every day. Together, they raised two incredible sons, who are the true lights of her life and the spark behind the heart and soul in her books.

When she’s not writing, you’ll probably find her in her flower garden. She loves the feeling of her hands in the soil, coaxing life from the earth just like she does with her characters on the page.

So, if you’re ready to escape into a world where love and the otherworldly go hand-in-hand, D.F. Jones is the perfect guide. Her books promise adventure, a bit of whimsy, and heart-pounding moments that’ll keep you hooked. Welcome to her world, where the impossible is just the beginning.

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