The scent made her mouth water and her tummy grumble. A cup of java and one of Damon’s banana walnut muffins sounded so— Wait a minute. Her husband was dead. She was in bed. Who made the coffee? She blinked, disoriented and confused. Light filtered through the window blinds. Not her apartment. Not anyplace she recognized. Grace bolted upright. Tall dresser, closet door, closed bedroom door. Memories of the night before exploded in her mind. Driving in the blizzard. Crashing into the snowbank. Stumbling to Bill Paulson’s front door. She hadn’t been dreaming. Last night had been real. Grace stretched her sleep-drenched arms and arched her back, like a drowsy cat waking from a much-needed nap. She’d slept through the night. No bad dreams to wake her. Amazing, considering she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since Damon’s death, and odd, since she was sleeping in a strange house in a stranger’s guest room.
What do You think about A Little Bit Of Holiday Magic?
