(Hollow Reign, #2)

Publication date: September 1st 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

My bandmate’s little sister is off-limits.

Then a Christmas blizzard traps us together in Chicago with only one bed.

After months on tour, all I want is to get home for Christmas. Instead, a winter storm strands me in Chicago with Harper Beaumont, a rising ballet star with everything on the line, including the lead role in her company’s production of The Nutcracker.

With both our flights canceled and Harper watching her dream disappear, I do the one thing I absolutely shouldn’t do convince her to experience the Christmas magic of Chicago.

Somewhere between sparkling lights, one forbidden kiss, and a snow-covered city, Harper stops being my bandmate’s little sister…and becomes the woman I can’t stop wanting.

When the only hotel room left has one bed, resisting her becomes impossible, especially when she asks me to be her first.

One night with Harper is hot enough to melt the Christmas snow but when morning comes and my bandmate finds out I crossed the line with his sister…

I have to decide if I’m brave enough to risk everything for the woman I was never supposed to have.

Silver Bells, Single Bed is Book 2 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas—a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances that can be read in any order.

Excerpt

“Sir, we need to check your bag.”

Fuck. I move out of the way while the agent unzips the main compartment, feels around the edges, then reaches into the side pocket. He frowns and pulls out something bright pink and unmistakably shaped like an exceptionally large cock.

What the actual fuck?

Motherfucking Casey!

As if this day can’t get any worse, it turns on, vibrating in his hand. I tilt my head towards the ceiling, though instead of looking for some divine intervention I’m imagining wringing Casey’s scrawny little neck.

“Anything with batteries needs to be taken out of your bag,” he says, like he sees this shit all the time.

The vibrator is getting attention from everyone around me. A teenager whips out his phone and starts filming.

Great. This is gonna be on the internet in about thirty seconds. Merry fucking Christmas to me.

“That’s not mine.” Which is exactly what every person in the history of air travel who’s been caught with a vibrator at airport security has said.

“It was in your bag, sir,” he says unimpressed.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Apparently my friend,”—and I say that loosely—“thinks he’s hilarious.” The agent just stares at me while the vibrator dances in his hand. “Fucking Casey,” I mutter under my breath.

A little kid tugs on his mom’s sleeve and asks what that noise is. She steers him away without answering.

The agent unceremoniously switches it off with a click and drops it back into my bag. “You’re free to go,” he says, waving me out of the line.

I zip the bag shut and get the hell out of there as fast as I can.

I’m gonna murder him.

There’s a nine-foot Christmas tree all decorated near the food court. I order a slice of pizza, drop into a seat, pull out my phone, and send a text to our group chat.

Liam: Casey you absolute fucking menace.

Casey: Found my Christmas gift?

Liam: No. TSA found it you asshole.

Casey: 😂😂😂 wish I could have seen that.

I take a bite of my pizza.

Casey: Oh wait. I didn’t need to be there.

He sends a link to a TikTok. Goddamn. That kid at the TSA line. It’s already racking up views.

Liam: I hate you.

Casey: Geez. Try to do something nice for a guy and this is the thanks I get 🙄

Phoenix: #vibratorgate

Theo: the comments lmao ☠️

Fuck, what are people saying?

Nope, don’t care.

I flip my phone face down and finish off my pizza. I stare at the phone. Jesus. Against my better judgment, I pick it up and flip through the comments.

@fangedfangirl: Sir that’s not a drumstick 😭

@moshpitdiaries: Even TSA getting backstage access now

@screaminginrow3 Reply to @moshpitdiaries: more like backdoor access 🤣

@distortedheart: Security said vibe check failed

I put my phone away and pull my hat lower. I’m gonna need therapy and a new identity by New Year’s.

A woman across from me glances down at her phone, then looks up at me. She nudges her husband.

I grab my bag and get up before anyone else connects the dots. Weaving through the crowds, I pass the wreaths and garlands lining the corridor on my way to a gift shop. I briefly consider buying a scarf or a hoodie, but who am I kidding? I’d just look like a guy who got stopped with a vibrator by TSA.

A small jazz ensemble is set up along the corridor, playing a smooth rendition of “White Christmas” and I stop to listen. Travelers are passing by in a rush, but for me, everything slows down. It’s two days before Christmas, and I just want to get home in time.

I turn to leave, and that’s when I notice her. The woman from the security line, standing in front of one of the departures monitors with her back to me.

She’s in boots and tights, with legs stretching on forever beneath the hem of her skirt, the kind of gorgeous that makes a grown man walk into glass doors.

“Shit!”

Or magazine racks. I catch it before it topples, shoving a scattered copy of People back into place while the guy at the newsstand gives me an annoyed look. Smooth, Liam. Real smooth.

I straighten up, the magazine rack wobbling behind me. There’s something about her that makes me want to walk over and say something. I don’t even know what. I just know that if I keep walking, I’m going to regret it.

The noise makes her turn around and I almost fall into the magazine rack again.

It’s Harper Beaumont, my bandmates little sister.

The one fucking person in this entire world I have absolutely no business looking at the way I just did. This can’t be happening. As if Casey hasn’t already fucked me over enough today. Now this?

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About the Author

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

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