Dream by the Fire: Winter Magic Read online

  Dream by the Fire: Winter Magic

  An Anthology of Short Stories

  Freya’s Bower.com ©2007

  Culver City, CA

  Dream by the Fire: Winter Magic

  Collection Copyright © 2007 by Freya’s Bower. All Rights Reserved

  A Love Rewritten © 2007 Esmerelda Bishop. Mistletoe Magic © 2007 Lanie Fuller. High Maintenance © 2007 Jamie Hill. Letting Go © 2007 Ava Rose Johnson. Upon a Midnight Clear © 2007 Kelly Madden. Solstice Night © 2007 Lyra Marlowe. A Winter’s Gift © 2007 Kim Rees. Einmal nach a Modresnach © 2007 Emily Ryan-Davis. Sugar Baby © 2007 Fiona Shinn.

  For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected].

  Cover art Freya’s Bower © 2007

  Editor: Michelle Puffer

  ISBN:

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Warning:

  This book may contain graphic sexual material and/or profanity and is not meant to be read by any person under the age of 18.

  If you are interested in purchasing more works of this nature, please stop by www.freyasbower.com.

  Freya’s Bower.com

  P.O. Box 4897

  Culver City, CA 90231-4897

  Printed in The United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Works are arranged alphabetically by the last name of the author.

  SWEET

  MISTLETOE MAGIC BY LANIE FULLER................................................................ 21

  UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR BY KELLY MADDEN................................................ 64

  SOLSTICE NIGHT BY LYRA MARLOWE................................................................. 70

  Einmal nach a Modresnach BY EMILY RYAN-DAVIS............................... 97

  SUGAR BABY BY FIONA SHINN............................................................................. 104

  TANGY

  A LOVE REWRITTEN BY ESMERELDA BISHOP..................................................... 6

  HIGH MAINTENANCE BY JAMIE HILL.................................................................. 29

  LETTING GO BY AVA ROSE JOHNSON.................................................................. 47

  A WINTER’S GIFT BY KIM REES.............................................................................. 85

  A Love Rewritten

  by

  Esmerelda Bishop

  The book slipped from Gabby’s limp fingers and landed on the floor. The soft thump stirred her from a dream-filled sleep. A groan left her lips, and she rolled over onto her back. The bright light of the room made her wince. She covered her eyes with her arm. The afghan that was wrapped around her body slipped to her waist. Goosebumps rose on her arms from the change in temperature, and she shivered. She reached down and grabbed for the blanket. Instead of the knitted cloth she expected, her fingers sank into soft fur.

  What in the world?

  Her eyes popped open. No longer in her quaint little cabin, she instead lay on a pallet of furs in what appeared to be a dungeon.

  Gabby gasped and sat up. Okay, maybe dungeon was a little dramatic, but she definitely wasn’t within the wooden walls of her four-room cabin. Tapestry-adorned stone walls surrounded her.

  Throwing back the fur, she froze as the icy air hit her naked body. A squeak of surprise escaped her lips, and she pulled the covers up to her chin. Why was she naked, and where in the hell was she?

  My book!

  The sound of her book hitting the ground had woken her. Where did it go? Gabby clung to the blankets, scooted off the pallet, and surveyed the floor. The bright red cover peeked out from underneath a side table, and she reached for it. Her fingers closed around the worn novel, and she cradled the endeared item close to her heart. Confused, she frantically tried to make sense of the turn her life had taken.

  Before she fell asleep, she’d been curled up in her favorite recliner as a blizzard raged outside, reading her most loved book. Maybe she was dreaming. Yes, that had to be it.

  The door behind her creaked, and Gabby whirled around. She spotted the cause of the noise, and her novel dropped from her grasp.

  In the doorframe stood the largest man she had ever seen. Well over six feet tall, he towered over her five foot two form. Dark hair spilled over powerful shoulders that spanned the width of the frame; the hilt of his sword peeked from behind his back.

  What?

  Gabby’s gaze lingered on the sword. Oh yes, it was definitely a sword. Gulping, she pulled the fur more tightly around her and backed up.

  “You’re awake, lass.” The deep timbre of his voice caused goose bumps to rise on her arms.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Ummm. Yeah.”

  “How do you feel?” He watched her with an unidentifiable, unnerving expression.

  “Uh, great?” Who was this man, and why did he act like he knew her?

  The exquisite man walked into the room and stopped in front of her. He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers down her cheek. The path of heat left in the gesture’s wake made Gabby tremble.

  “Ahh, sweet Gabrielle.”

  She jerked in surprise. “How…how do you know my name?”

  His hand froze then dropped from her face. A deep frown drew his eyebrows together in a scowl.

  “You doonae know me?”

  A creepy feeling of déjà vu gripped her. No, it couldn’t be. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “Lass, please lie down.” His voice rose, as if he was panicked

  Just as she thought he would, he scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the pallet. With surprisingly gentle hands for a man of his size, he tucked the furs around her.

  “Sleep well, sweet Gabrielle.” A quick kiss to her forehead, then he was gone.

  Oh, wow. Oh, wow.

  When the door closed, Gabby jumped from the bed and grabbed her book. She flipped through the pages until she found the chapter she needed. She read the last sentence, and the paperback fell from her fingers.

  Dear God. She was in the castle of Lord Devlin McCalister, the hero from her romance novel.

  * * *

  Devlin paced the Great Hall. The fear he felt for Gabrielle kept him on his feet. It had been by sheer luck that he happened upon her lying in the snow. He’d no idea how she’d come to be there or why she’d been unconscious and he hadn’t taken the time to contemplate it. Instead, he’d gathered her in his arms and headed for the warmth of his castle.

  And now she didn’t know who he was. Devlin smiled. This was a blessing in disguise. He’d spent weeks wooing this woman to no avail. Not even the slightest hint of interest had radiated from the lady… Until tonight. When he walked into the room, he’d sensed a change in her immediately. Gone was the aloof woman he’d vowed to win. In her stead stood a vulnerable lady with the warmest green eyes he’d ever seen.

  Footsteps shuffled on the stone floor outside the Great Hall. Devlin turned and faced the healer who walked into the room.

  “Well, Ashcroft?”

  Ashcroft twisted his fingers together, as if fearful of telling his lord the news. “She remembers nothing, sire.”

  “Any chance her memory could return?”

  “I cannae be sure, milord.”

  Dev
lin shook his head and exhaled the breath he had held. “You’re free to go.”

  Ashcroft bowed and scurried from the room.

  Devlin turned back to the fire and stared into the flickering orange flames. Hope took root in his heart. He’d known if he could ever get past her barrier of steel, he would glimpse the true Gabrielle. The woman inside that room was her. Whatever had happened to her had destroyed the ice casing she’d kept sheathed around her.

  His jaw tightened. The only problem would be to keep her memory from returning before he had a chance to completely topple her defenses.

  * * *

  An impatient sigh sliced through the otherwise quiet room. After donning the gorgeous emerald gown Devlin had sent her, she had sat impatiently waiting for his arrival. Gabby walked to the window. If her assumptions were correct, and she lived inside her novel, today would be a very interesting day. According to her book, Devlin was helplessly in love with Gabrielle. However, since it was written in only his thoughts, she was never privy to the reason Gabrielle didn’t return his affection. Anyone who read the book could easily see that the merciless bitch constantly used Devlin’s love as a way to control him.

  Apparently Gabby looked a great deal like his beloved, for he hadn’t batted an eyelash when he’d come into the room, just proceeded with the scene exactly as written... Pretending to be all worried, but secretly thrilled his lady love could not remember him.

  Well, she wasn’t stupid. She’d play along. Devlin McCalister was the hottest hero ever written. She’d re-read that novel at least twenty times and had fallen more and more in love with him with each flip of the page.

  A knock sounded on the door and pulled her from her musing. A grin stretched her cheeks.

  He was here.

  She made her way to the door, fluffing her hair as she went. To calm the feeling of butterflies that suddenly attacked her stomach, she paused and inhaled deeply.

  She needed to remember she had amnesia and had no clue to what the day would bring. Gabby schooled her features into what she hoped was a most convincing confused expression and opened the door.

  “Yes?”

  Her gaze landed on his rock solid form, and her mouth went dry. Straight, shoulder length, dark hair curtained the side of his face, giving him a come-hither sort of look. And damn, she wanted to come hither. The white tunic he wore hugged a broad chest, and the blue and gold kilt rode low on his trim waist.

  She swallowed. In her imagination, he’d been handsome, but in real life he was downright scrumptious.

  “Gabrielle.”

  She shivered as his Scottish brogue purred her name. Oh yes, pillow talk with this sexy man would be divine.

  “May I help you?”

  His brows drew together. She wasn’t sure, but she swore it was a sign of relief.

  “Tis me, Gabrielle. Devlin. You’re betrothed.”

  Such a liar.

  “My be…betrothed.” Pleased with her act, she fought the smile that tried to surface.

  “Yes, Gabrielle. We’re to wed in a fortnight.”

  Damn right they would.

  “Oh. Your name again, milord?”

  A bright smile broke across his face. His even, white teeth flashed at her before he bowed. “Lord Devlin McCalister at your service, milady.”

  Gabby clenched her jaws against the immediate urge to jump him. There was something about medieval chivalry that made her instantly wet with desire.

  “Shall I show you the castle?”

  How about your bedchambers?

  Oh, she was wicked.

  “Please, milord.” She took his offered elbow. The feel of his strong arm underneath hers made her bite her lip in excitement.

  “Devlin to you, Gabrielle.”

  “Devlin.” The word came out a breathless sigh, and he shot her a startled look.

  Damn.

  She refused to act like the cold-hearted bitch Devlin had fallen in love with, but she did need to reign in on the hero worship and innocent act. If she did not, he would surely become suspicious of her identity.

  Gabby averted her gaze and allowed the handsome highlander to lead her down the hall.

  * * *

  The small fingers that gripped his elbow felt as if they burned straight through the linen of his shirt and seared his skin. Awareness of the tiny frame that walked beside him consumed him, and he swallowed hard, oddly disconcerted by the reaction. This was far from the first time he’d escorted Gabrielle. So why did he suddenly feel like a fumbling young lad?

  Devlin exhaled lightly as he tried to make sense of his newfound response. Never before had he felt shy, overlarge or clumsy. But all three of those feelings assailed him, and he worried he would make a fool of himself.

  Calm thyself, Devlin. She is the same Gabrielle, with a little less memory.

  His eyes trailed up her green velvet-covered arm, to the top of her auburn head, which barely reached his shoulders. At that moment she lifted her head, met his gaze, and his breath caught. A wave of desire hit him so hard he almost stumbled.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “Hungry?”

  On cue, her stomach made a loud rumble. She nodded. A pretty flush spread across her cheeks, giving her a lively glow.

  Another cord of disconcertion hit him. It wasn’t that Gabrielle was emotionless. He’d seen the wrath of her anger more times than he cared to admit, but this new Gabrielle radiated life. A far cry from the woman she had been only yesterday.

  He pushed aside his thoughts. “How do you feel?”

  “Confused.”

  The simple word, filled with such raw honesty, clenched his gut. “Your memory will return.” But even as he said the words, something inside him hoped it would not.

  She looked away. “I hope.”

  He frowned at her flat tone. “Is everything alright, lass?”

  Again she nodded.

  He wanted to probe further, but fear of pushing her away kept his questions at bay. They fell into an awkward silence. After what seemed like an eternity, they walked into the dining hall and sat down.

  The roaring fire cast a glow over the thick wood table, giving them warmth from the frigid, dreary day outside. Devlin watched her eat. Her delicate fingers grasped the spoon and dipped it into the pottage. Full lips parted, and she slid the utensil into her mouth. Her eyes closed then clenched. A grimace of disgust crossed her face.

  “Is the pottage not good?” Quickly, he took a bite of the thick soup. Perfection.

  “I’ve never had anything quite like it.” She swallowed and shuddered.

  “I had cook make it specifically for you. Tis your favorite.”

  Her eyes popped open, and she bit her lip. “Of course it is. Um…thank you?”

  Helpless to stop, he laughed at her confused expression. “You’ve lost your memory, Gabrielle. I’m sure that happens.”

  A bright grin spread her lips and caused her entire face to light up in happiness. “I love to hear you laugh.”

  Startled at her comment, Devlin sobered instantly.

  Again she bit her bottom lip. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

  Did losing one’s memory do this? Was it possible for a person to become the complete opposite? And if so, when the memory returned would she revert back to the woman he had come to love despite her aloofness?

  Longing swept through him as he stared at the animated woman who sat across from him. What would it be like to have this Gabrielle love him? This one who smiled with such ease and had eyes that danced with delight? A sense of betrayal gripped him and confused him further. He pushed aside the feelings. This was his Gabrielle. The accident had unlocked her inner self, freeing her to be who she truly was. There was no reason to feel he had betrayed the woman he loved.

  “I wish for you to say whatever is on your mind, Gabrielle.” He rose and walked around the table to her side. Devlin offered his hand, and when her warm palm slipped inside his, he closed his fingers around it and brought it to
his lips. Her skin felt soft against his mouth, and he resisted the urge to draw her up to him. There was time for that later. “I want to show you something.”

  * * *

  Curious, she followed him. They walked into the hall where he left her, only to return with a heavy wool cloak. He placed the thick fabric around her shoulders. Devlin reached in front of her to clasp the cloak closed, his chest brushed against her back.

  Passages from this scene played in her mind, and Gabby’s breath caught in her throat. Very aware of what he thought, she stood rigid in his arms. Devlin’s eyes would be closed as he inhaled the sweet perfume of her hair. The aroma should cause the overwhelming desire to crush her against him and claim her right there on the cold floor. Or at least that was what he wanted in the book.

  So why didn’t she turn around and let him do it? She couldn’t believe this was happening. For years she’d read romance novels, screaming at the couples for their blatant inability to see what was before their very eyes. Yet here she was living a romance novel where she knew exactly what her hero thought, but was still scared to death he would reject her. It wasn’t fair.

  Turn around, idiot. Let him know you’re as interested as he is.

  Too late, the warmth of his chest left her as he pulled back.

  Chicken.

  In frustration, Gabby pursed her lips.

  “Come.” Devlin grabbed her fingers and pulled her outside the door.

  The cold air stung her cheeks, and she gasped. To protect her face from the elements, she pulled the hood over her head. Snow fell lightly. A thin layer already blanketed the rugged hills of the Highlands.