I’ve always believed in Christmas magic. Turns out, I was right. Because Santa is real–and he needs my help to save Christmas. He walks in off the street and I instantly know. This isn’t a mall-Santa. Not a flirty-dad-volunteer-Santa. No, no. This man is the real deal, a tall silver fox with jolly eyes and a sinful mouth. And apparently, he’s not just here for cookies. He says I’m his fated mate and if I don’t let him feed from me, his magic will die and Christmas might implode. Which would be tragic, so of course I let him put…
I read. And quilt. A lot.