decorations popping up the week before Halloween, but when it comes to holiday
music, all bets are off. We all know that music has magical properties that
defy logic. Two random notes from an old top ten hit and suddenly you’re
fifteen again, crushing over the boy next door.
emotion by one hundred and you have the magic of holiday music. And not just
the standard (and wonderful) Christmas carols. Some surprising choices have
been known to sneak onto my list of favorites. See if you agree.
clever habit of blasting Jose Feliciano’s version throughout the store and
every time it sends me dancing up the aisles, buying way more stuff than any
normal human being could possible eat.
favorite of mine. This is a wickedly sexy take on the holidays.
(Christmas Don’t Be Late) – I was nine years old! I can’t be held accountable
for my taste in music. Of course, that doesn’t explain why it still makes me
smile from ear to ear.
say? I love this song.
Christmas – and pass the Kleenex. The title alone is enough to make me cry.
maybe unexpected) choices?
The Sugar Maple Chronicles
Book Seven
Barbara Bretton
Are you a worrier?
Since the birth of my daughter last year, I have become a world-class, gold medal-winning worrier. I worry that Laria isn’t getting enough sleep and then, when she’s snuggled down for the night, I lurk in the doorway to her room and listen for the soft sound of her breathing. I worry that she isn’t getting enough milk. I worry about the transition to solids. I worry about childproofing our cottage. I worry about potty training and her first day of school.
Mostly I worry about what she’s going to be when she grows up. All things considered, that’s pretty silly because everyone in Sugar Maple knows that Laria’s future had been determined long before she was born.
But, then again, so was mine.
I’m Chloe Hobbs, the half-sorceress/half-human owner of Sticks & Strings, the most popular yarn shop in New England. (And maybe the entire east coast . . . not that I’m proud of it, or anything.) I’m also the de factomayor of Sugar Maple, one of those postcard-perfect towns Vermont is famous for, a picturesque throwback to simpler times.
At least, that’s what we want you to think.
The truth is, there is a lot more to our small town than meets the eye. My BFF Janice, who owns the spa across the street, is a Harvard-educated witch married to a strapping selkie. Lynette, my other BFF, is a shapeshifter. She and her husband and kids keep our local theater up and running. A werewolf and his sons operate the hardware store.
A Norwegian troll named Lilith maintains both our library and our historical society. Three generations of Fae run the Sugar Maple Inn and restaurant. Don’t laugh, but a team of vampires own the funeral home.
And that’s just for starters.
We have been hiding here in plain sight since my sorceress ancestor Aerynn fled the horrors of Salem centuries ago to found a sanctuary for other magicks like her.
I’m not bragging when I say that for over three hundred years, we’ve done a pretty good job of flying below the radar. The fact that you didn’t know about us is proof of that. Thanks to a protective charm created by Aerynn, we have been able to escape discovery even while living and working among humans. I’ll admit, however, that it was a lot easier before the Internet and drones and smartphones became part of our daily lives.
And there are a few old-timers around town who would say I was the biggest threat of all. We were already a popular stop for tourists looking to experience a trip to nostalgic, old school New England, when the runaway success of Sticks & Strings added a steady stream of knitters to our village. Now I’m not saying knitters are nosier than your average visitor, but nothing much gets by them. A dedicated knitter can sniff out a bargain three towns away and will do anything to reel that treasure in.
But knitters go home at night, something you can’t always say about relatives.
