Her eyes travelled over the distant mountains, the wild seas to her left and the flat, snow-covered land stretching out ahead. And then she did a double take. There on the horizon, silhouetted against the sun, something moved. It was in the blink of an eye. So rapid she almost missed it. Something big and loping and most unexpected.
It couldn’t be…?
She blinked again. Whatever it was had gone.
But April could have sworn she’d just see a polar bear.
“One moment,” said the Truth Pixie, pointing at her book. “I just have one sentence left. You can never leave a story with just one sentence left. it’s very bad luck. I once knew someone who stopped reading a story right near the end.”
“She died. I mean, it was seventeen years later. But you can’t be too careful.”
She made herself look away and spotted a little bookstore on the corner across the street. “Ooh, we should stop in there when they open,” she said, pointing.
“Though – I probably shouldn’t, actually. I already have more books with me than I can read.”
He shrugged. “So? I’m not sure it counts as vacation unless you come home with more books than you brought with you.”
“Yeah, well, before you get too excited, you can’t put up a murder board in the study room in the library.”
I nodded sagely. “Of course not.”
Maisey visibly relaxed.
“That room is far too small for a murder board,” I added simple to see the sharp flash of panic in her eyes.
She smacked my arm.
It was worth it.
“He’s giving me the full Mr. Darcy treatment now. Not the evolved Darcy who meditates on the fine eyes and takes a sexy plunge in the pond at Pemberley, but the haughty, judgmental Darcy from the first half of Pride and Prejudice. Any minute now I expect him to declare that I’m tolerable, but not pretty enough to tempt him.”
“Nutcrackers are brimming with magical powers. It’s long been said that if a wish is made at the exact moment a nut is being cracked, when the stars shine bright and the wind rustles his beard, and you can almost hear the sparkling of Christmas magic in the air all around, the nutcracker will grant the wish. Try it!”
“Sweet Pillsbury Doughboy, this is my idea of porn. Keller James sitting before me, praising my baking. If my bakery plan falls apart I know what my next venture will be. Bakery porn. It’ll be nothing but attractive men eating my cookies. The camera will zoom in as their tongues flicker over their lips, sweeping up every last morsel. They’ll probably be shirtless too. I bet I can get subscribers to pay at least four ninety-nine a month for such a service.”