A broken-hearted girl concocts a plan to win her ex back no matter the cost.
When these two opposites are thrown together by fate and end up in the same adorable ski lodge, to their dismay and surprise, their lives will be changed forever-after.
A fast-paced funny and enchanting holiday romance you won’t be able to forget!
Amazon → https://amzn.to/2T2eJfR
Madame Zoloft gazed intently into her crystal ball and raised one overly plucked brow.
"You're going to marry a Prince." She said, looking up at me.
Marry a Prince? Same old psychic mumbo jumbo she thought every girl wanted to hear. Darn Prince. The only guy I cared about was Collin.
"I don't care about a prince. Did you see anything in there about a guy with gray eyes, tall, great dresser?"
I glanced over at my boyfriend, Collin Trevor. He was chatting with our boss near the mistletoe looking like a billion bucks in his gray Chanel suit and red Santa tie I had picked out for him yesterday. Tonight was our big night. Our lives were about to change.
The psychic barely glanced up from her crystal ball. "No – not him."
I leaned over and peered into her ball.
"I know he's planning something special," I said. "He told me we need to have a serious talk. We all know what that means right before Christmas."
She dead-eyed me.
"I said a Prince."
I leaned in and whispered. "Look, this is a Christmas party you're kind of supposed to tell me what I want to hear so... can you look closer or ask your leprechauns or something please?"
I put my hands together in prayer.
She squinted her eyes and consulted the mighty ball once again.
I chewed the inside of my mouth. I admit it was pathetic to want confirmation of my love life from a psychic, but I was desperate at this point.
"I think Collin said he's distantly related to Prince Charles maybe that's what you're seeing. He is English!?"
She looked up at me once again and shook her head.
"A true Prince."
I threw my hands up. "Oh, come on close enough!" I jerked my finger over my head.
"He's fully Prince-Dreamy! Just look at him over there talking to our boss, and you tell me!"
We turned in unison to see the love of my life currently being mauled by a hot redhead from marketing under the mistletoe. I inhaled. Well, that's not what I wanted to see.
Still, he didn't need to keep kissing her.
Maybe he was drunk and being accosted?
I looked back at Madame Zoloft and stood up. "I better go help him."I stuffed a five-dollar bill into her tip jar and took off toward the problematic mistletoe. Why holiday decorators felt the need to hang that nuisance plant everywhere and ruin people's lives I had no idea.
"A Prince for Christmas." Madame Zoloft called after me. "Next in line."
You can visit her website.