Excerpt Monday - From Matchmaking Amusement in the BeMused Anthology

Isolde turned to look and discovered a tall, male muse with an upturned nose and shamrock green eyes -- a pixie muse! He had long, soft brown hair with chestnut highlights and his skin tone was a little darker than most muses, bordering on olive. He had such a rich, inviting smile it warmed her to her bones. She nibbled on her lower lip for a second, realizing he must also recognize her as a pixie muse, took a breath, and flashed him a smile.

"Ah, no."

"You looked a little overwhelmed. Want some help?"

"Sure."

He offered his hand, palm up, in the traditional muse greeting. "I'm Tristan."

She put her hand on his and a zip of warm tingles pulsed up her arm. "I'm Isolde."

He chuckled. "Uncanny. What namesakes we have -- ancient lovers with a passionate story."

Scarlett Johansson, inspiration for "Isolde."
She felt her cheeks prickle. "It was a passionate story."

"Well, you have a lovely name."

"Thank you," said Isolde.

"Ah, so, do you have a hotel?"

"The Wittelsbach."

"I'm there, too." He paused, his lips curving into a sweet smile. "Want to share a cab?"

Isolde loved his friendly demeanor, and his classical pixie looks warmed her to her toes. She wiggled them to make sure they were still tingling.

He pointed to the cab platform and Isolde fell in step beside him. "Are you here on vacation?" he asked.

"Yes."

"How did you hear about this place?"

"Well, my human wrote about it in her last book so I thought I'd check it out," replied Isolde.

They stepped out into the crisp German air. The scent of fresh cut grass made Isolde's wings hum with excitement under her clothes. The sky was cerulean blue without a cloud in the sky, and the sun was as warm as an apple tart pulled right out of the oven. What a lovely place Berchtesgaden was.

They stepped up to the platform and Tristan flagged down a cab.

Isolde helped him load the bags in the back while the cab driver waited in the front seat.

Chace Crawford, inspiration for "Tristan"
"So, you've never been?" he asked.

"Nope."

"I was here once when my writer was in the military. It's lovely. If you want, I can show you around."

"You hardly know me," said Isolde.

He shut the trunk and looked directly at her. His warm, penetrating gaze shot through her heart like an arrow on fire. "But I'd like to get to know you."