I wish I’d never met you, Stephen.
When I went to visit the old plywood angel my mom always called the Wishing Angel, those weren’t the words I meant to say. See, I’d just had a big fight with my boyfriend, and I’d gone to see the Wishing Angel, the same way I did when I was a little kid, to wish that the two of us could somehow make up. But when Stephen broke up with me by text, I lost my temper, right in front of that old tattered angel, and lashed back, texting him with the cruelest words I could think of.
It’s a good thing the Wishing Angel can’t actually grant wishes.
Or can it?
A Christmas contemporary romance (with a touch of paranormal). 26,000 words. A sequel to Dominance. 