“You are all of my songs,” Gizelle countered, kissing his shoulder.
His elk sighed then, in long-suffering disgust. You are our mate, he said simply, as if that explained everything.
And perhaps it did.
A Note from Zoe Chant
I hope you enjoyed Gizelle’s book! This one is really close to my heart, and was both a pleasure and a challenge to write. Next up for Shifting Sands, I’ll be tackling Breck’s book... though I’m going to have to drag him kicking and screaming to his own happy ending, I’m sure. (Dooooom...)
I always love to know what you thought – you can leave a review at Amazon (I read every one, and they help other readers find me, too!) or email me at [email protected]
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Keep reading for a special bonus story, Scarlet and the Christmas Kittens, which occurs during the events of Tropical Christmas Stag, and a preview chapter from another series, Green Valley Shifters!
The cover of Tropical Christmas Stag was designed by Ellen Million (visit her page to find coloring pages of some of my characters, including Gizelle and Conall!).
Scarlet and the Christmas Kittens
“I’m sorry Mrs. Grant. I simply cannot confirm that Conall Wright is residing here, nor could I promise that he would be available to play at your daughter’s wedding if he was.” Even though it was a phone call, and Mrs. Jubilee Grant was several thousand miles away, Scarlet kept her face in a perfect mask of polite restraint out of habit.
Predictably, Mrs. Grant had protests.
“Yes, Mrs. Grant,” Scarlet said calmly. “I realize that you meant Conall Wright the classical guitarist. I cannot—”
She listened a little longer, gambling that she wasn’t missing anything critical during the static moments where the spotty long distance connection was lost.
“No, Mrs. Grant, I had not heard the rumor that the island had returned anyone’s hearing. You understand that we could of cours
e not guarantee such results for any of our guests.”
Finally accepting the futility of the topic, Mrs. Grant turned the subject to flowers and rambled at some length regarding exact species and arrangements. Scarlet patiently repeated exactly the same information she had imparted several times, over several modes of communications.
“I assure you, there will be no problem in supplying what you desire.”
Mrs. Grant clearly did mind the expense of a rambling call to Costa Rica, which did not surprise Scarlet. Someone who was willing to reserve the entire resort for a wedding did not have budget concerns. It was worth indulging her desire to discuss every part of the upcoming nuptials in agonizing detail... for the second time that week.
When Mrs. Grant finally wound down, Scarlet was only listening with half her attention, looking over the end of year expense sheets and bonus calculations.
“Of course, Mrs. Grant!” she said with enthusiasm that probably wouldn’t sound too false over the poor phone connection. “We are looking forward to serving you. Have a lovely evening.”
It was a relief to finally take the phone from her ear, and turn it off.
A glance at the battery indicator suggested that Mrs. Grant had used nearly half of the phone’s charge. Scarlet plugged it into the charger and returned to her paperwork with all of her attention until Graham appeared in the doorway.
Graham had not inherited his grandfather’s oratory skills; when he dropped the loose mail on Scarlet’s desk, it was without a single word of explanation. The box, however, he was handling with particular care, and he actually grinned when he put it in front of her, right on top of the financial statements she’d been checking over.
“What is this?” Scarlet demanded.
The side of the perforated box was emblazoned with ‘LIVE CARGO’ and ‘HANDLE WITH CARE.’
As she stared at it in consternation, it meowed.
Behind Graham came Travis, grinning even wider than the gardener. “Here’s the stuff you’ll need for those,” he said cheerfully, putting a stack of bulky boxes down in the corner of Scarlet’s office.
“Those?!” Scarlet exclaimed. “There’s more than one? What are they?” The box on her desk wiggled. “Oh, no,” she said, suspecting the worst.
Graham was already making a beeline for the door and Travis laughed over his shoulder as they made their escape. “Christmas kittens for Gizelle! Conall wanted you to take care of them for the next few days so it could be a surprise!”