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The other day I was in need of a magical story. Not a story about magic, but a story that was magic. It had to be a short tale, one that would satisfy my craving for a wonderful romance and still fit into my rather insane schedule.

So I went to my keeper shelf and pulled out a story that had once awed me with its magic — The Mad Earl’s Bride by the incomparable Loretta Chase. It’s a short story, one of four in an anthology that also features two of my other all-time favorite authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and Lisa Kleypas.

I can’t describe the delight I found in opening the yellowed pages and discovering the magic I’d first felt when reading the story was still there. Waiting for me. It hadn’t changed or lost power. It was still as potent as ever. I closed the book a happier person. Recharged. Ready to get back to work and hopefully create a similar feeling of magic for another reader. As I slipped that book back into its spot on my keeper shelf (which is actually an overflowing bookcase ;) ), I was awed to see the number of “keepers” I’ve collected over the years. I ran my fingers over the creaseless spines (yes, I’m one of those readers who keeps their books pristine) and felt the magic.

Do you feel the same way when you return to your keeper shelf? :)