A Wyld Night for St. Nick by Laura Strickland—Excerpt Day!

An excerpt from A Wyld Night for St. Nick:

Out of the murky gloom above her, a face appeared. Certainly not Martin’s face. From what she could see, this man had a broad forehead and wore an odd hat trimmed with fur.

Her eyes narrowed involuntarily.

He seized hold and lifted her up—up as if she weighed nothing.

Definitely not Martin, a weedy man except when the drink lent him strength.

“Are you Missus Ella Fielding?”

“Uh—yes. What’s happened?” She gulped, memory returning. “Marty, my son—”

“He’s safe, ma’am. Now I want to get you out of here. Somebody just said one of the cars has caught fire. If this one catches—”

“He’s safe?”

“Come on.”

He carried her much as she might ferry Marty, in his arms. They half scrambled, half climbed to the front of the car, where snow blew in. Outside was darkness. Wind.

“Here, tuck your head down.”

What had been a rescue suddenly became far more…intimate. With one big hand, he smashed her face into his neck and she could smell him. He smelled like buckskin and woodsmoke, and something else far more elusive and, well, intriguing. Holding her caught fast against him, he leaped down out of the train car and ran.