Riding The Headless Horseman (Sexy Sleepy Hollow, #1)

by Molly Likovich

Some drunk colonial guy raved about it in a tavern centuries ago and the legend has stuck like gum to a shoe ever since.

I even have a Jane Austen deck (it’s not very accurate, it thinks we’re all going to be spinsters. But I am 28 and unwed so by Austen standards I suppose it’s right).

So I play it by ear, feeling out each customer to see who wants that real, intense, true witch work and who wants the showy, hocus pocus, double double toil, and trouble nonsense.

That last comma is killing me

I light several white, vanilla-scented, tea light candles,

The commas!!!! Proofreaders are important

my black, wool cardigan,

Omfg

look like I stepped right off the cover of a cheesy, dime-back gothic romance.

Omfg

The Horseman keeps a large, gloved hand, pressed firmly to my back,

The commas i cant

the horribly, wonderful intensity of it.

The horribal commas