An Enchanted Season

Ohio's Most Haunted Town

First Published 2007-10-01 in Trade Paperback

Reissued 2009-11-01 in Mass Market Paperback

Publisher: Berkley

It’s the time of year when dreams come true, miracles happen every day, and love is the greatest gift of all…

The holidays always seem to bring out the best in everyone, with heartfelt hugs for long-missed friends, sincere smiles in the spirit of the season, and a feeling of magic in the air.

Here, for the first time, is a collection of paranormal romances celebrating the holidays as never before. From a shape-shifting leopardess who wants a packmate to be her soulmate to a snowstorm that brings a surprise gift, these all-new tales by Maggie Shayne, Erin McCarthy, Nalini Singh, and Jean Johnson will stir your spirit in all the right places.

“I just have one question,” Will Thornton said casually as he stood on a ladder and nailed fresh evergreen swags above Charlotte Murphy’s front door.

“What?” Charlotte dragged her gaze off the seat of Will’s jeans with a significant amount of effort, refusing to feel guilty. Lord, Will was slow sometimes. Her arms were straining under the weight of the boughs she was holding for him and her feet were getting cold in a hurry. Checking out the view he provided at eye-level from his position on the ladder was fair compensation for the discomfort she was enduring.

“Who just grabbed my ass?”

Charlotte almost fell off the front step. “What? What are you talking about?” Okay, so maybe she had entertained the idea once- or nine hundred times- of cupping his backside and giving a nice, hard little squeeze, but she would never act on it. Probably. She was pretty sure. But definitely if she did, she would know it. Savor it. Make it count.

“Someone just copped a feel, and since I can see you out of the corner of my eye, and your hands are full, I was just wondering if you could tell whoever did it that it’s not wise to grope a man on a ladder, unless she wants me to break my neck.”

Glancing around to confirm what she knew, Charlotte frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nobody here but us.” And her libido.

“Your sister did it, didn’t she? That sounds like Bree.” Will reached for another swag and Charlotte passed it up to him.

“Bree went shopping an hour ago.” Which was classic Bree. Ditch out doing the Christmas decorating for their house with an excuse about getting pomegranates for a centerpiece. Like there were any pomegranates in the tiny grocery in Cuttersville, Ohio. Bree just wanted to peruse the bookstore, gossip at the hair salon, and stay out long enough to avoid having to drag all the boxes of ornaments out of the basement.

“Abby?” Will asked doubtfully.

“Abby! My baby sister, who is only seventeen, need I remind you, did not touch your butt, Will. No one did.” For crying out loud, did he want someone to touch it? If she were a little bolder, she’d just reach out and smack it right now to really give him something to think about. But she wasn’t bold. She was the opposite of bold- she was pastel pink on the color wheel.

“Someone did. I know what I felt.” Now his voice sounded stubborn, his hammer pounding harder.

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Course not.”

That was irritating. He didn’t think she could, or would, or didn’t think she should? How was it that he could suspect her little sister, a junior in high school, of grabbing him, but she was a no way, never happen? Was she so staid and boring and vanilla that it would never occur to him that she did actually have a sex drive, though it was well hidden and brought only out on special occasions like full moons and when the annual firefighter’s hottie calendar hit the bookstore in town?

“Then I guess it was just wishful thinking, Will, because we’re the only two people standing here.”

“Huh,” he said, leaning against the ladder for support and glancing left and right. “That’s really weird.”

What was weird that never once in the last eight years had Will so much as suspected she liked him more than was appropriate for good friends. Yet she did. She loved him with a passion and urgency that was just downright embarrassing when she allowed herself to ponder it- or wallow, which was probably more frequently.
But he didn’t seem to be on to her. To Will, she was just Charlotte, his best pal. Damn it.