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Enchanted clothing has a mind of its own.
Restlessness plagued Charlotte Becker. Unable to settle down, she moved from place to place searching for an elusive something to calm her turbulent spirit. A sudden invitation sends her across country to Lobster Cove, Maine. Anchors abound by the sea, but surely nothing would keep her rooted in place in a pokey resort town during the off-season.
Drawn into a consignment shop named One Enchanted Evening, Charlotte is confronted by a mysterious article of clothing requesting her help to stop a man in a wolf mask from killing women. Charlotte agrees to protect the citizens of Lobster Cove and find the hunter before an innocent is slain.
Luke Maddox’s hunting days are over. Wounded in action, he left the Marines to return to Lobster Cove. Hiding his disability, he accepts life will be nothing more than dull routine. Then he meets a singular young woman wearing an unusual cloak. She tells an incredible story of a wolf that walks on two legs.
And the hunt begins…
In One Enchanted Evening fantasy, humor, and romance are wrapped up in the cheeky retelling of a fairy tale. You will never look at a clothing from a consignment shop the same way again.
Swallowing back her unease, Charlotte rolled up the window and got out. Except for her car, Main Street was empty. She pushed through the scrubby overgrown yard. Clearly illuminated on the door was the By Appointment Only sign. Somebody must be inside and she wasn’t going anywhere without a tow truck. Butterflies fluttered about her stomach as she scampered up the steps and knocked on the door.
“Excuse me,” she called out. “I don’t have an appointment, but my car and phone died and I need a tow—”
The door swung open. Charlotte drew in a breath and set a hesitant foot over the threshold. The interior lights activated, sending her heart pounding.
“Nothing to worry about,” she muttered. “Motion sensors or something. Hello?” she called louder. “Anyone home?”
Charlotte stepped inside. With the interior illuminated, more than a few armoires were visible. The old front parlor was crammed with trunks and bureaus. Battered chests stacked on top of each other lined the walls. Had all this stuff been here before? The size of the building was deceptively small from the outside.
“Great places to stuff a body,” she muttered.
“That’s true,” said a voice.
Charlotte made a leaping half spin around. Her heart shouldered her esophagus out of the way to race up her throat. She swallowed hard to force it back down. The elderly woman with the peasant blouse and purple bandana stood right behind her.
“However, I don’t recommend it,” she said, cheerfully, “as you’ll never get rid of the smell.”