New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling authors Betina Krahn and Jacquie D'Alessandro and award-winning author Hope Tarr put a new spin on a holiday classic.
After the death of her betrothed, young widow Claire Halliday feels a kinship with Scrooge. But a stolen moment under the mistletoe could revive her Christmas spirit...and ignite her reluctant heart.
Lady Adelaide Kendall is in love. Unfortunately, the object of her affection is promised to her sister, who loves another--and then it gets even more complicated! Only divine intervention can sort out this comedy of errors!
At thirty, Fiona MacPherson has resigned herself to the solitary life of an old maid, until she glimpses a future filled with loneliness--and cats. Now she must embrace the unusual destiny--and the man--that eluded her five years ago.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
October 31, 2010
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from A Harlequin Christmas Carol by Betina Krahn
December 23, 1890, 4:30p.m.
"Pushy know-it-alls, those Christmas spirits," Claire Halliday said tartly as she and her friends rose from the tea table at the rear of the book shop. "I feel sorry for Scrooge. I mean, the man was as miserable as he was mean-spirited. His life was as cold as a well-digger's ankle--inside and out. And they came along and practically scared him to death."
"I believe that was the point," Fiona, the shop's proprietress, said with a wry smile. "His life was so barren and desolate that the usual channels of change wouldn't work. It took something supernatural to shake him out of his rut."
"Hmm," Claire said with a look of exaggerated cunning, "I wonder how one would go about suggesting people to receive such visits."
That drew laughter from Lady Adelaide Kendall and Fiona MacPherson. The women had been meeting in Fiona's shop for tea and book discussions long enough for the others to know Claire's circumstances.
"No wassail or Yule log at the Mayhew house, I'm guessing," Adelaide said as they donned their coats.
Claire paused in the middle of fastening her coat buttons. "Stephen died four years ago last week. Every year at this time, it's like it happens all over again. Mother Mayhew weeps and haunts the drawing room like a wraith. Uncle Abner stays late at the factory and comes home potted and morose. Aunt Eloise drags out the black yarn and crochets more mourning accessories. Cousin Halbert locks himself in his workshop and Cousin Tillie plays the most god-awful dirges on the spinet."
"Sounds dreadful." Adelaide radiated sympathy. "And you?" Fiona asked, frowning. "What do you do?"
Claire shook off a somber thought and lifted the brown-paper-wrapped package of books she had just purchased from Fiona.
"I closet myself in my room and read. Thank heaven you were able to find the books I wanted, Fiona. Hot cocoa and a good book--I'll be all right. Christmas lasts only a few days. Perhaps on Boxing Day I'll go to the factory and do some cleaning and organizing in Uncle Abner's office."
"Cleaning? Good Lord--tell me you're not that desperate," Fiona said in mock horror, looking around at the dusty edges of her shop. "Let me lend you a cat for a few days or something."