I had it all. Killer job, to-die-for apartment overlooking the Hudson, and the successful, doting boyfriend.
Well, he was successful, at least. Guys who dote don't break up with you via Post-It.
After that, I did the one thing I swore I'd never do. I went home to the smallest small town there is—a place so backward my family was still engaging in a hundreds-of-years-old feud with the Tuckers. Maybe it had evolved from the days of shooting one another to slightly more benign things, like filling family stores with crickets and moving a two-ton moose around town. But still. This was not NYC.
It was meant to be a stop-over. But when a little old lady died suddenly and left her dilapidated haunted house to me, things got complicated. Because she didn't just leave the house to me. She left it to me and Michael Tucker jointly.
Because who doesn't want to live in a haunted house with their sworn enemy? Only I'm not sure Michael Tucker is my enemy. In fact, he's turning out to be kind of . . . hot. In a strong single dad kind of way.
And I'm not sure how much I really want to get back to New York City, anyway.
Contains mature themes.
