You've probably heard of me. Reclusive fantasy author turned famous when his series got developed into a mega TV hit. Except now I'm way behind deadline, and the whole world is waiting to see what I'll write next. The pressure is getting to me, and I. Can't. Write.
Cue: small town where people don't recognize me.
Cue: my assistant insisting on a personal chef to keep me fed and nothing more.
Cue: finding the first bit of inspiration I've felt in months whenever she's around . . . Am I a walking cliché now, or what?
Dani Cooper seems to have her own hurdles to jump this holiday season. Newly divorced, looking for her next move. She's the first person who's seen me for me in way too long. And I see her, too-as way more than just an employee, a divorcée, a cook. She's becoming my muse . . .
But when my Christmas deadline hits, will it spell the end of us, too?
Contains mature themes.
