The Marriage Trap

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To my husband.

I guess love spells work after all, and there are happily ever afters. Thanks for being with me through every crazy, chaotic moment. Thanks for keeping me halfway sane, being a fantastic father, and most of all, for cooking dinner. I love you.

And to my fabulous, wonderful, amazing editors, Liz Pelletier and Libby Murphy. This simply would not have happened without you.

Maggie Ryan tilted the margarita glass to her lips and took a long swallow. Tartness collided with the salt, exploded on her tongue, and burned through her blood. Unfortunately, not fast enough. She still had a shred of sanity left to question her actions.

The violet fabric-covered book beckoned and mocked. She picked it up again, leafed through the pages, and threw it back on the contemporary glass table. Ridiculous. Love spells, for God’s sake. She refused to stoop to such a low. Of course, when her best friend, Alexa, cast her own spell, she’d been supportive and cheered her actions to find her soul mate.

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