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Christmas in a castle shouldn't involve booby traps and impending death. Can you build a catapult from rakes and flowerpots? When Beryl finds her aunt dead, she flees before the cops blame her. Unfortunately, the killers are after her. Rural Michigan isn’t Gramercy Park, but it does have a great castle to hide out in! “Gibbs” arrives home from the hospital (broken leg and all) to find someone living on his third floor, hiding out from “goons,” and making boobytraps to fend off an attack! Beryl is determined to beat the goons at their own game. Gibbs just wants to keep her alive.

Wenn die ängstliche Städterin den Hof in Ostfriesland übernehmen soll, wird es turbulent. Ein herrlicher Nordsee-Sommerroman, der eine perfekte Auszeit vom Alltag bietet. Als ihre beste Freundin von ihrem Verlobten sitzengelassen wird und dringend eine Auszeit braucht, bietet Janna sofort ihre Hilfe an. Die Kölnerin wird sich um den Gulfhof an der Nordsee kümmern. Obwohl sie vor Schreck erstarrt, wenn sie ein Pferd auch nur mit den Hufen scharren hört. Ihrer Freundin zuliebe tauscht sie das Stadtleben trotz allem gegen Misthaufen und störrische Ziegen.

Did you know that in Victorian England a part of the Christmas celebration was the telling of ghost stories? And the greatest and most beloved of all Christmas ghost stories is A Christmas Carol by the great Charles Dickens. Sit back and be prepared to be just a little scared but in the end you will be very much into the holiday spirit (or spirits) while listening to this wonderful rendering of this most classic of all Christmas ghost stories.

I never imagined meeting anyone who despised the holidays more than I did—until I met Mr. Jack Atlas. Tall, impeccably dressed, with a smoldering presence that could melt hearts, he also happened to be my boss. I was hired as his temporary assistant after he mysteriously fired the last one. Jack's grumpy demeanor was a constant, but during the holiday season, his Scrooge-like tendencies went into overdrive. I didn't blame him—I had my own reasons for avoiding the festivities, so who was I to judge?