…Catrina let out a long sigh, then stood. Until she could figure out the best way to contain Nana’s secrets, she supposed keeping them buried in the floor vault would have to suffice.

She started toward the exposed chamber, intent on replacing all the items she’d removed. Scarcely three steps from the bed, she dropped the little black book. It landed on the floor with a firm smack! Of course, dropped was probably an understatement, the book practically leapt from her hand.

“Well that’s strange,” she declared. It was almost as if the book didn’t want to go back in the vault. Normally, that would seem like a strange notion, but at this point she was willing to accept anything.

Bending over, she reached for the book. Just as her fingers brushed the cover, it raced across the floor away from her. “Hey!” Catrina protested, running after the estranged volume.

It sped toward the door, across the threshold, and into the living room. Catrina hurried after it, praying the darn thing didn’t slip through the gap under the front door and head down the street. While there were few neighbors in the cul-de-sac, she imagined the ones she did have would think she was nuts, running after a renegade black book.

“Come back—oh!” Catrina stopped dead in her tracks. Standing within her living room, between the coffee table and sofa, and wearing nothing but a carpenter’s tool belt, was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.