Enchanted clothing has a mind of its own.
Charlotte Becker had a restless spirit. Unable to settle down, she moved from place to place searching for an elusive something. A sudden invitation from her sister sends her across country to Sentinel Landing, North Carolina. 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. To protect the citizens of Sentinel Landing, she must 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 Sentinel Landing and start a quiet life. Then he meets a singular young woman wearing an unusual cloak. She tells an incredible story of a wolf that walks on two legs.
Excerpt
Annabel stopped short and stared at a weathered bungalow set back from the path and surrounded by vegetation. A hand-lettered sign in bright colors over the front door read One Enchanted Evening.
“That’s strange,” she said. “I don’t remember this here before. It’s not the best location. The front doors of other shops face Periwinkle, but this faces the path. The owner needs to do heavy landscaping. Why, a potential customer can barely see the building thru the trees and shrubbery. With foot traffic nearly nonexistent, tourists will only discover it accidentally, and that’s where places like this make most of their money.”
“If it’s new, maybe the owner hasn’t gotten around to clearing the brush yet,” said Charlotte.
Annabel’s eyes lit up with the same feral gleam of a lion stalking a clueless antelope grazing on the savannah. “It might be an antiques store. Let’s go inside and check it out.”
Charlotte regarded the drawn curtains in the windows with doubt. “I don’t think it’s open yet.”
“I see a sign on the door,” said Annabel. “Maybe it posts the hours.”
Charlotte followed her to the porch. “By appointment only,” she read aloud. Without hesitation, Annabel lifted her hand to knock.
“You’re awfully nervy for a pregnant woman,” sputtered Charlotte. “Need I say, neither one of us has an appointment.”
“Oh, zip it. I’ll simply ask for one when they open the door. Meanwhile you and I will sneak a peek inside. I’m always searching for new places with unusual stuff to keep me one jump ahead of the competition.” She jabbed her in the shoulder. “Where’s that baby sister of mine who used to have the monopoly on gumption in the family?”
“Sorry,” said Charlotte with a tinge of regret. “I’m fresh out.”
Annabel knocked. From inside came a faint shuffling sound and then the click of a key turning in a lock. The door swung open. Charlotte gaped at the elderly woman on the threshold. Small and plump with a wizened face, she wore a brightly printed muslin skirt and peasant blouse. Her wrinkled face resembled the old-timey dried apple dolls found at craft fairs. The purple bandana on her head was rimmed with burnished gold coins that jingled when she moved. The only light inside appeared to come from the open door. Behind her, barely visible in the dim interior, were several large armoires and bureaus. Annabel squinted. Charlotte practically heard the whirling gears in her sister’s mind calculating the wholesale price of each piece.
Annabel dug into her purse and offered a business card. “Hello. I’m Annabel Fisher of Fisher Designs. Welcome to Sentinel Landing. My husband, Sean, and I run a local interior design and renovation company and I’m always in the market for new items.” She peered over the woman’s shoulder at a piece of furniture standing by the door and gasped. “Is that a rosewood armoire? I swear it’s 1880s French, but I’ve never seen one in such exceptional condition.”
“I’m very sorry,” said the woman pleasantly, ignoring the card. “This store deals in used clothing by appointment only. The furniture is for storage.”
“I’ll offer a very good price.”
“No, thank you.”
The woman’s gaze raked across Charlotte. Sharp brown eyes, bright as a ferret’s, caught her in an unblinking stare.
“Um, hi,” said Charlotte, suddenly feeling as if she had walked out of her apartment without pants. Unconsciously, she ran her hand down her sides, relieved to touch denim.
“Oh? A consignment shop?” chirped Annabel. “May we poke around? My sister and I love vintage wear,” she added with her winning smile.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. Annabel never gave up easily. She’d have that woman arm-wrestling over a price for that armoire before she spit out, “interior designer discount.”
“Your life is complete, Mrs. Fisher,” said the shop owner pleasantly. “Nothing in here will fit.”
Amused, Charlotte noted for once Annabel was at a complete loss for words. The coins on the woman’s scarf jangled as her head swung toward her. Charlotte swallowed hard as the pants-less feeling crept up her legs again.
“You, however, have definite possibilities,” the woman said. “The path traveled can be diverted. Come back when you’re ready to accept the consequences. I warn you, though; the steps to fulfilling one’s destiny can be unexpected and dangerous. Good day.” She shut the door in their faces.
Annabel stared in disbelief. “Heck of a way to run a business. She’s not going to last long in Sentinel Landing with that attitude.” She took Charlotte’s arm. “Come on, I know a fabulous little boutique around the corner that sells dynamite shoes. It’s right on the way.”
As Charlotte allowed herself to be led down the street, she glanced over her shoulder at One Enchanted Evening. The curtains remain closed. It appeared as vacant as before. But an eerie suspicion crept through Charlotte that on the other side of those obscured windows a mysterious old woman in a jangly kerchief peered intently in her direction.
