Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
Books from Isabel
Connect with the authors
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Books By Michael Anderle
CHAPTER ONE
Anastasia Drakethorn thought when she left her law firm in the city, she would have less paperwork on her hands. She’d been dead wrong. So wrong that she would have preferred a fight with a werewolf to the tedious task of filling out her personal information on one government form after another.
The financial paperwork regarding the transfer of Catherine Thorn’s estate to her daughter was one thing, but the papers before her now were another matter entirely. Stacy decided she would be more than happy if she never had to look at another business registration form again after today.
“I’ll take extensive property law amendments over this any day,” she grumbled to no one in particular, not forgetting that such things had once been the bane of her existence.
She was the only person inside her newly inherited estate office, a small cottage-like building on the property where her mother’s old manor house stood. The estate manager, Rowan, had called the cottage a shed with a rueful look that said he didn’t understand why anyone would want to set up an office there.
To Stacy, however, it was the best damn shed she had ever seen, with full insulation, hardwood floors, and floral wallpaper. It had a mini-kitchen and a half bath, for fuck’s sake. She had shoved a desk, a chair, and several shelves quickly filled with books inside it.
Though cozy and ornate, her office inside the house did not have the fresh scent of roses directly outside it. She liked this corner of the estate where everything was quieter, and no one but the sprites were around to disrupt her work.
And disrupt it they did. Stacy often found the tiny manor guardians carrying off papers and pens in groups of four or five, then chittering in amusement when she swatted them away. When hunting for missing sticky notes, she often found them under her desk or piled in a corner with a sprite dozing on top.
Yet she didn’t have the heart to banish them from her office. Not only were they cute and provided great amusement, but they had been around for far longer than she had. If anyone had a right to flit around the shed-cottage, it was them.
When she spent time here, Stacy threw open the windows to allow in the pleasant summer air and golden sunlight. An actual shed elsewhere on the grounds housed various lawn and garden equipment. Not that they needed it, she remembered, since Rowan had used magic over the years to maintain the place.
A proper groundskeeper would be needed soon, though. Rowan was handling far too much as the estate manager and personal bodyguard to the women who lived in the manor house. Yet another thing she needed to take care of today. Stacy made a mental note to add a coffee machine to her new office.
She had chosen to use the small cottage and let Amy have the office in the house. Beyond her windows, birds chirped, and the garden fountain bubbled. If not for all this damn paperwork, she would have sat back and enjoyed the ambiance, grateful to have a home this peaceful away from the hustle and bustle of New York City.
She had forgotten how nice it was to wake to the sounds of birds and a gentle breeze rather than honking car horns and people yelling from the sidewalk. Stacy’s time in the city had done her good. She’d changed for the better and learned things about herself she wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.
