The baker of addictive cookies.
The woman who finally believed in magic again.
And as his lips find mine once more, and the lights from our cookie tree glimmer across the ceiling, I realize one perfect, undeniable truth.
Oh yes.
This is going to be a very merry Christmas after all.
Epilogue 3: Eb
I used to think Christmas was a crock.
Too many lights. Too many songs. Too many feelings.
Then Marigold happened.
Now I’m a guy who bakes cookies at midnight, gets excited about matching pajamas, and has strong opinions about tinsel versus garland.
I even let Bobby decorate a snow Badger in our front yard—until Emery begged Uncle Uzzi to enchant it to dance, and I had to chase it down the block.
I’m still a grumpy Badger. That’ll never change.
But I’m Marigold’s grumpy Badger.
And that changes everything.
Because the truth is, I don’t need magic mistletoe or enchanted cocoa or twelve-foot nutcrackers to feel the spirit of the season.
I’ve got my mate.
My Honey.
My forever.
And for this Badger?
That’s the only holiday miracle I’ll ever need.
Epilogue 4: Uncle Uzzi
Season’s Greetings My Dearest Darlings,
It is I, your favorite matchmaking maestro, Uncle Uzzi, here with one last message as the snow settles and the lights twinkle across rooftops far and wide.
Whatever you celebrate—Christmas, Hanukkah, Solstice, Kwanzaa, New Year’s, Vampire Resurrection Day, The Great Grog and Roast Festival, or simply surviving another magical mess of a year—I want to wish you all the joy, peace, and delicious baked goods your heart desires.
And love.
Always, love.
Because I believe—no, I know—that there’s someone out there written just for you.
A fated mate.
A twin flame.
A partner in all things cozy, chaotic, and impossibly sweet.
