Despite what his co-workers say Belling, Montana paramedic Dylan Hollie does not hate Christmas. It’s just that as an ex-foster kid he learned early on that Christmas just didn’t have much relevance to his life. He’s seen no evidence since then that he’s wrong. That said, if Santa ever delivered a six-foot plus wall of hot muscle under his tree he’d be willing to reconsider. He’s even sourced an available one locally in the taciturn Somerset North and his impossibly blue eyes. So really, at this point the ball is in Santa’s court. There’s just one problem. Well, just one to start with anyhow. The battered, dying man someone dumped from a height onto Dylan’s car outside the Just-as-High, Somerset’s bar. He gave Dylan an old, well-worn watch and begged him to keep it safe. Now Christmas is relevant to Dylan’s life in the worst way. The Winter Court has loosed their Wolves on the world and Dylan is on the run with Somerset North. A man who seems to know a lot more about what is going on than a Montana bar owner with exceptional shoulders should. It turns out that Santa is missing, presumed dead. And the key to the hotly disputed succession crisis is a foster kid who never celebrated the season.