A Highlander for Christmas (55 page)

Read A Highlander for Christmas Online

Authors: Christina Skye,Debbie Macomber

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Time Travel, #Holidays, #Ghosts, #Psychics

BOOK: A Highlander for Christmas
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Keep reading! Debbie Macomber’s bonus mini Christmas tale is just ahead.

Author’s Note

Dear Reader:

Have you developed a taste for platinum and tanzanite? White Siberian diamonds and South Sea pearls? Maggie makes it all look so easy.

The craft of jewelry-making is long and time-honored. One of Maggie’s favorite books on the subject is Tim McCreight's
Jewelry: Fundamentals of Metalsmithing
(Madison, Wisconsin: Hand Books Press, 1997). Bending, cutting, casting and cold joining—they are all here, presented with pictures of some of the most striking, innovative jewelry being made today.

Maggie would be proud to have her architectural pieces included!

If you are fascinated by amber, that magical and beautiful substance composed of ancient plant resins, be sure to look for David Graham’s
Amber: Window to the Past
(New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 1996). The art—and the science—of this rare material is endlessly intriguing. (Remember
Jurassic Park
?)

For a look at the immense creativity to be seen in jewelry work today, try
Ornament: The Art of Personal Adornment
and
Lapidary Journal
. Both will have you scouting your local jewelry supply store to try your own hand at beading and wire work.

The rise of Asian crime families is, unfortunately, more than a matter of fiction. Triads—secret organizations dating back to Chinese resistance movements against the Manchu invaders—now control the flow of heroin out of Hong Kong, assisted by thriving branches in Laos, Burma, Thailand, and a dozen Western countries. Family loyalty and an unbroken tradition of silence to outsiders makes Triad activity difficult to understand, track, and control. One of the best books on the subject is Gerald Posner’s
Warlords of Crime
(New York: Penguin Books, 1988). A word of advice: Don’t start the book late at night, or you might have trouble sleeping.

For all those who have written to ask about stories for Adrian and Nicholas: You’ll find a link to the complete list of Draycott Abbey novels in the
About the Author
section of this book.

Each story is a haunting mix of danger, romance, and high-handed interference by Adrian and Gideon.

Enjoy!

After almost two decades of writing about the beautiful abbey, I have yet to come close to revealing all its secrets. Adrian and Gideon still manage to amaze me, and the inscrutable Marston has abilities I am only beginning to suspect. I hope they have all brought you a shiver of magic and a touch of pure romance.

See you at the abbey!

With warmest wishes,

P.S. Don't forget to visit
www.christinaskye.com
for contests and recipes, as well as news about coming books.

About the Author

Christina Skye is the
New York Times
bestselling author of thirty-three books. She is
a pushover
for Harris tweed, Scottish cashmere, Chinese dumplings, French macar
o
ons and dark chocolate.

Not necessarily in that order.

A classically trained China scholar with over two million books in print, she has appeared on national television programs including
ABC Worldwide News, Travel News Network
, the
Arthur Frommer
show,
Geraldo, Voice of America, Looking East
, and
Good Morning, Arizona
.

Christina loves being a writer and savors quirky historical research. Most of her first drafts are written by hand, while her white Siamese helps with the “editing.” While she writes, she usually has her knitting right beside her. But don’t expect speed. “The sheer pleasure of colors and texture running through my fingers helps me concentrate on the mystery of my characters taking shape before my eyes. Researching a period draws me into a sense of place, and then knitting pulls me to a quiet place where a story can unfold at its deepest level. It’s my best writing tool.”

Visit her online at
http://christinaskye.com/
for a glimpse into new books, strange research tidbits, great recipes and some of her all-time favorite knitting patterns.

~ ~ ~

If you enjoyed this work, please leave a review to help other readers decide if it’s a story they too would like to read. A couple of sentences are all you need to write. Thank you!

~ ~ ~

Sign up for
Fresh Leaves
, the SMP monthly newsletter, to find out when new books
by Christina and other bestselling romance authors
are released, most at special introductory prices:
http://eepurl.com/gCgrX

(You can also subscribe from the
Steel Magnolia Press
website.)

~ ~ ~

Ebooks by Christina Skye available now or coming soon to Amazon (from Steel Magnolia Press)

Regency Romances

Come the Night
, Book 1 of The Dangerous Delameres

Come the Dawn
, Book 2 of The Dangerous Delameres

Defiant Captive

Seven Nights With A Pirate (original title: The Black Rose)

Seducing the Rake
(original title: East of Forever)

Victorian Romance

The Tiger’s Lady
(original title: The Ruby)

Paranormal Romances
(Draycott Abbey Series)

Hour of the Rose

Bride of the Mist

Key to Forever

A Highlander for Christmas
 (original title: The Perfect Gift)

Fallen

Christmas at Draycott Abbey

Find all of Christina’s books at Amazon

Copyright ©
2013 by Debbie Macomber

No part of this
story
may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without the written permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law.

CHRISTMAS ANGELS IN LONDON

Debbie Macomber

Bells rang out over the heart of London. Taxis raced past. Shoppers trotted by, laughing and jostling in the cold air.

“I do so
love
Christmas,” Shirley said to her two dearest friends, Goodness and Mercy. “But it never feels like Christmas without snow.” The three angels positioned themselves outside Harrods in the flow of the bustling crowds, their arms filled with packages.

“What are you doing here?” Mercy demanded. “We’re assigned to another case in New York.”

“Helene lives here in London now.”

“Helene? Who’s
Helene
?”

Shirley exhaled sharply. “Years ago I was assigned as her Guardian Angel. It was before Gabriel decided to make me a Prayer Ambassador.”

“Well, you just better hope that Gabriel doesn’t get wind that we are here.” Mercy tugged at Shirley’s sleeve, urging her along the crowded street.

“Go on without me. I’ve been so worried about her. The last report upset me terribly.”

“What’s going on?”

Shirley sadly shook her head. “Helene was deeply in love with an Englishman who made frequent trips to the States. They had a long-distance romantic relationship going for a couple of years. When the opportunity arose for her to accept a position in London, she leaped on it, saving it as a surprise for Andrew.”

“Don’t tell me,” Goodness murmured.

“Yup, the dirt bag was
married
.”

“Oh no, and she’s already accepted the position.” Mercy’s wings fluttered ever so slightly.

“That’s her now.” Shirley pointed to the lovely young woman leaving the store, her arms loaded down with packages. “I heard she’s given up on romance and that would be such a shame. There should be
someone
for her.”

“She needs our help,” Mercy whispered. Then she whirled around. “Where’s Goodness? Did anyone see Goodness?”

* * *

Helene shouldn’t have put off her shopping to the last minute. She would need to wrap her packages this weekend to post first thing Monday morning. Unable to afford flying back to the States for the holidays had depressed her. It wouldn’t seem like Christmas without her family, but she was determined to make the best of it. Agnes, the older woman in her apartment building, had invited her to dinner
,
and Helene had volunteered to bring the goose.

Agnes might be well into her eighties, but her mind was sharp and clear. Best of all, she was an excellent
Scrabble
player.

Helene walked through the happy crowds on Brompton Road, lost in thought. She was planning which gifts to wrap next when suddenly…

She stumbled forward hard. Her shoe must have caught on a loose paver. Losing her balance, she staggered and then fell, her packages spilling out of her arms, flying in every which direction. Just before she landed on the cement walkway, a pair of arms caught her.

Strong and very male arms.

Gasping, she clung to her rescuer, ready to voice her thanks. Then she swallowed the words.

“William?” She’d met Agnes’s grand-nephew once before, and it hadn’t been a pleasant meeting. The tall, black-haired Englishman had seemed cool and somehow disapproving.
Was it all Americans he distrusted, or just her?
Helene wondered. He seemed to find her friendship with his elderly aunt suspicious. To his way of thinking, a lovely, young American woman must have an ulterior motive to strike up a friendship with an elderly woman.

“Ms. Parsons.” He dropped his arms so quickly she nearly lost her balance a second time. Without another word, he bent down to help her gather her packages.

Helene’s mind raced. Despite their differences, she refused to be rude. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “I don’t know what happened. One minute everything was fine, and the next I was flying through the air.”

William handed her the fallen packages and retreated a step. “I was visiting my aunt.”

That much was fairly obvious. Really, William wasn’t hard on the eyes, and as Agnes had pointed out any number of times, he
was
unattached. The older woman had taken delight in letting tidbits of information casually drop into their conversation. William worked as a barrister; perhaps that explained why he remained as stiff as starched sheets.

“My aunt invited me to join the two of you for Christmas dinner.”

Great.
He was sure to watch Helene’s every move for fear she was pilfering the silver. “I should let you know that I’ve never cooked a goose before, and I…” She stopped mid-sentence and her entire mouth went completely dry.

Andrew
.

He was walking purposefully toward her. The instant their eyes met, his face brightened.

She must have looked stricken because William asked, “What is it?”

Andrew arrived before she had a chance to respond. “Helene,
darling
.”

“I am not your darling. Your darling is your wife.”

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