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All rights reserved ~ an Ellora’s Cave, Inc. publication
Copyright © 2005 Mackenzie McKade

BLURB:

Christmas and faeries and floggers…oh, my!

When a mischievous wood faery pops out of her newly purchased Christmas tree, Candice Lowry knows this Christmas will be…special. Under the bossy faery’s guidance, Candice gets a makeover and learns the power of her own sexuality. Maybe now she can attract her handsome new neighbor…

Gordon Nash can’t believe the transformation in Candice. Already intrigued by his shy, mousy neighbor, Gordon is captivated by her sexy new look. And when a book on BDSM falls from her bag, he knows that she is perfect for him.

EXCERPT:

Who would have thought that in the blink of an eye Candice Lowry’s life would change so drastically? It all started with the purchase of a five-foot Christmas tree from the local tree lot in Chandler, Arizona. Well, it wasn’t the tree, but the faery within. A wood faery, to be exact.

Three inches in height, he sat on her dashboard casually picking at the hem of his vest—which looked as if it were made from tree bark embroidered with wilted leaves and vines. He wore tights and slippers a deeper brown than his dark skin tone. The warm smell of soil and nature surrounded him. His appearance was rugged, as if he could melt into the earth itself and disappear.

He glanced at her through narrowed eyes. “You shouldn’t have ignored me.”

Her face flushed with heat. “You made me look like a fool.” Unconsciously, her foot pressed harder on the gas.

He feigned surprise. “Me? You’re the one who leaned on the tree.” Then he pulled his knees to his chest and began to laugh all over again. “Did you see that lot attendant’s expression when all the trees fell like the parting of the Red Sea?”

Candice cringed. The trees had fallen in different directions, in a domino effect, one right after another. The crash was loud enough to be heard a mile down the street. Everyone nearby witnessed her humiliation.

Embarrassed and dismayed, all she’d wanted to do was leave. She chose the only tree left standing, which had held a certain faery named Hector within its branches.

“I thought your hissing was a rattlesnake,” she said innocently. How was she to know all he had wanted was her attention?

The little man rolled onto his back, holding his stomach, his tiny legs kicking in the air. “I know. I know. You should have seen how quickly you moved. It looked like you were standing on a bed of hot coals the way you danced about.”

“Ha. Ha.” She pressed the brake a little too quickly at the oncoming red light. Her tires squealed, the car slid a short distance.

Hector’s eyes opened wide as he rolled across the surface of the dashboard. He hit the window and then rolled back before falling off. Mid-air, his translucent wings appeared, fluttering madly. When he rose into the air a shower of dark green faery dust wafted around him.

His smile was gone. “You’re killing me, Candice. Work with me here.”

She glanced at him and then the stoplight. “Okay, tell me again why you’re here.”

Unbelievable. She was talking to a faery. Or was it her imagination? She had drank two eggnogs before she’d shut down her accounting office for the holidays.

He situated himself on the beaded necklace hanging from her rearview mirror as if it were a swing. Holding on, he kicked his feet and set it into a slow, swaying motion.

“Girl,” he paused, “you’re in need of a serious makeover.”

The light turned green. Candice eased her foot onto the gas pedal as her gaze shot to Hector. “Makeover?”

“On the lonely meter you’re registering a nine point three out of ten.” He leaned back and forth on the necklace, making it move faster, higher. “You look like a cranky librarian. How old are you anyway?”

Just her luck—a faery with an attitude.

She focused her attention on the road. Did he have to remind her that she would be spending another Christmas alone? “Twenty-six.” But I feel like eighty. “And you don’t need to get nasty.”

When she pulled to a halt in front of her apartment complex, she switched the car off. The engine whined, coughed and shuddered before dying. She opened her door and Hector zipped by her so quickly that she felt a brush of air across her face. His wings were a blur as he darted around, taking everything in.

From a distance he looked like a hummingbird. Still, she had no idea how she was going to get him past the lobby attendant. Then he dove into the tree atop her car, burrowing in the branches.

A sigh slipped from her mouth. Yes. She wanted to get into the Christmas spirit, but how the hell was she going to get this monstrosity off her car and into her apartment? Remembering her fingernail clippers, she dug through her shoulder bag and retrieved them.

With a snip here and there, Candice used the clippers to cut through two of the four pieces of twine holding the tree securely in place. Snip. The tension in the line loosened. Only one more to go.

When the last cord snapped, the tree tumbled down. She didn’t have time to move as it whacked her chest, branches slapping her face.

“Watch out,” a small voice burst from within the tree.

So much for not getting tree sap on her outfit.

“Sorry,” she muttered, trying to find a comfortable way to hold on.

Six inches taller than the five-foot tree, she still felt like the darn thing engulfed her. It was everywhere. The needles poked into her and the bark was sticky as she inched her way toward the entrance of the complex.

“Left. Go left,” Hector yelled as she approached a toy car that some kid must have dropped.

“Shush. Someone is going to hear you,” she warned.

If she hadn’t been so uncomfortable she would have laughed. From the front she probably looked like a possessed Christmas tree wandering aimlessly. The only visible parts of her were her feet. There was just enough space between the branches so that she could see where she was going, but barely.

The lobby attendant, a young man dressed in brown slacks and a tan shirt, opened the glass doors. “Merry Christmas, ma’am,” he said. “I’d assist you, but I can’t leave the doors unattended.”

“Thank you. I can manage,” Candice grunted. If you could call what she was doing managing—moving at the speed of a geisha, using tiny steps that were more of a shuffle. When she approached the elevators, she braced the tree against the wall and pressed the button. The doors parted and she heaved the tree into her arms and stepped inside. As the doors closed, a hand shot in, stopping them.

Candice felt her blood pressure soar. It was Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome, the man who had just moved in two doors down from her on the third floor. Each time she saw him her imagination took a leap. It seemed to be doing that more often these days, she thought, as she remembered the little faery hidden within her tree.

There was something about her new neighbor that stirred a fire within her, a slow burn that made her hot and bothered.

“Candice, your pulse is racing,” Hector informed her.

“Shush,” she whispered. Damn. How would she justify talking to a tree?