Anthologies

An Enchanted Season by Maggie Shayne

By Maggie Shayne

A magical paranormal romance assortment celebrating the spirit of the vacations from 4 bestselling authors.

It’s the time of yr while desires come real, miracles occur each day, and love is the best present of all. the vacations consistently appear to convey out the simplest in everybody, with heartfelt hugs for long-missed buddies, honest smiles within the spirit of the season, and a sense of magic within the air…
 
This scintillating number of paranormal romances celebrates the vacations as by no means sooner than. From a shape-shifting leopardess who desires a pack-mate to be her soulmate to a shock storm from snow that brings a tremendous present, those 4 stories through Nalini Singh, Maggie Shayne, Erin McCarthy and Jean Johnson will stir your spirit in the entire correct places.

From the Paperback edition.

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And the proprietor not only didn’t remember who had bought it, he didn’t even remember ever having seen it. The hat was beyond recovering. Just like his dad. Just like his childhood after that. Just like everything eventually was. Gone. Just went to show what getting too attached would do for you. Things are fleeting. Here and gone again. There’s no point getting too used to anything. And holidays, he added mentally, are just plain stupid. The wind blew the hat until it came to rest outside a truck stop just a few blocks from the dead man’s house.

At least he hadn’t dressed like a city slicker in a Porsche. He wore jeans, Timberland boots, heavy socks underneath them, a nice sweater over another shirt. The sweater was brown, the shirt, pale blue—at least that was the color of the collar. He hung the coat by the front door, next to hers, then carried his boots over to set them beside hers near the fire. She’d already swept up the trail of bark and snow after he’d unloaded the last armful of wood, and wiped the damp spots from the floor with a handful of paper towels.

You just keep bringing the wood in. ” And as she said it, she reached up to brush fresh white snow from his shoulders with her hand. ” Her hand hopped from a pair of what she’d discovered to be nicely broad, strong shoulders, to his dark hair, where she continued brushing snowflakes away. But only for a moment, because he went very still and his eyes kind of slid around until they met hers. Melted chocolate eyes. Yum, she thought. Something crackled, and her hand went still in his hair. Whoa, that was something.

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