Wicked Winters
Page 1
Wicked Winters
A Limited Edition Holiday Collection
Melanie Karsak
Erin Hayes
Margo Bond Collins
S. K. Gregory
Mia Ellis
J. M. Taylor
Brian Hocevar
David Barbur
Angelique Archer
J. Mills
Bokerah Brumley
Contents
Wicked Winters Collection Description
Hauntings and Humbug by Melanie Karsak
Holiday Hopes by Erin Hayes
O Holy Hell by Margo Bond Collins
Rose Red: As Red As Blood by S. K. Gregory
Merry Alchemist Christmas by Mia Ellis
Don’t Let Go by J. M. Taylor
The Weeping Woman by Brian Hocevar
A Dead Man’s Gift by David Barbur
The Tracks in the Snow by Angelique Archer and J. Mills
Festival of Gaslights: Beginnings by Bokerah Brumley
Thank You!
Wicked Winters
A Limited Edition Holiday Collection
Clockpunk Press
Copyright © 2019 Clockpunk Press
All rights reserved. No part of this anthology may be used or reproduced without permission from the publisher and/or author(s). The author of each work is solely responsible for the content of that work. These are works of fiction. All characters and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblances to the living, dead, or undead are purely coincidental.
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Wicked Winters Collection Description
Hauntings and Humbug by Melanie Karsak
It’s Christmas Eve in Victorian London, and Ebony Scrooge is hard at work tinkering weapons of mass destruction and avoiding all things Christmas. When the spirit of her deceased partner, Jacqueline Marley, warns Ebony that she will be visited by three ghosts, Ebony writes the visitation off as a dream. But on this Christmas Eve, the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future must try to pull off a miracle, restoring Ebony’s heart before it’s too late. Hauntings and Humbug is a retelling of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, set in New York Times bestselling author Melanie’s Karsak’s steampunk universe.
Holiday Hopes by Erin Hayes
Rather than go with the yearly whale migration, a young princess feels compelled to stay in case her long lost sister comes back—and finds so much more.
O Holy Hell by Margo Bond Collins
When evil elves attack their hideout, monster hunter Grace Falls, her pregnant foster-sister, and three protective demons set out to find a new place to call home—but it might just take a Solstice miracle to keep them safe!
Rose Red: As Red as Blood by S. K. Gregory
Rose Red was born as a counterpart to Snow White. A child of darkness to the child of light. A rival, an adversary. They were never supposed to be friends.
Merry Alchemist Christmas by Mia Ellis
Anya is looking forward to a quiet Christmas with her friends. However, when new vampires attack innocent people, she, as the local alchemist and supernatural judge, has to get involved. To track down the person who created this vampire will require the help of a local Imp who is a little too interested in the investigation. Keeping the supernatural community in check is never easy, especially when Anya can’t be certain that she can trust her partner or that he slays what she slays.
Don’t Let Go by J. M. Taylor
A new town, a new school, and a new boyfriend make for a promising holiday season. But this Christmas Eve, there will be no Peace on Earth for Marianne Carter. What she left behind on old Ingram Road is sure to haunt her forever.
The Weeping Woman by Brian Hocevar
A mysterious death in Briarwood County puts Deputy Maggie Dell on course for a close encounter of the gravest sort.
A Dead Man’s Gift by David Barbur
Tye Caine wants to find peace in the mist-filled mountains of the Pacific Northwest. Instead, he finds a mystery, and receives a gift from a dead man.
The Tracks in the Snow by Angelique Archer and J. Mills
Siblings Amber and Cameron “Cam” Danvers are taking the train home after spending Christmas Day at their grandparents’ house in the mountains. Nine year-old Cam wanted only one thing for Christmas: to spend quality time with his teenage sister again like they used to when they were younger. But like most fourteen year-old girls, Amber’s main interests are her friends, boys, and mindlessly scrolling through her social media accounts to pass the time. When the train runs into an unexpected mishap on the tracks, Amber and Cam find themselves facing a fabled Christmas creature only their worst childhood nightmares could conjure up.
Festival of Gaslights: Beginnings by Bokerah Brumley
When an orphan girl is run over by a carriage in New London, Effie Frank must use the Tikvah Stone to heal her. When the child wakes, she offers Effie a sacred scrap from a holy scroll, inscribed with a secret spell that will animate the fabled Chanukah golem.
Hauntings and Humbug by Melanie Karsak
A Steampunk Christmas Carol
Hauntings and Humbug Description
A Steampunk Christmas Carol
A Steampunk Christmas Carol
It’s Christmas Eve in Victorian London, and Ebony Scrooge is hard at work tinkering weapons of mass destruction and avoiding all things Christmas. When the spirit of her deceased partner, Jacqueline Marley, warns Ebony that she will be visited by three ghosts, Ebony writes the visitation off as a dream. But on this Christmas Eve, the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future must try to pull off a miracle, restoring Ebony’s heart before it’s too late.
Hauntings and Humbug is a retelling of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, set in New York Times bestselling author Melanie’s Karsak’s steampunk universe.
1
Humbug
A chill wafted through the workshop, the frozen air making me quake to my very core. On the other side of our shared workbench, Bailey Cratchit, my apprentice, blew on her fingers. She sighed. Heavily. I knew it was cold. It was always cold. Hell, I couldn’t even feel my toes. But until the device was done, delivered, and payment received, I didn’t have a shilling to spare on extra coal. It was going to stay cold, or we would both end up on the street—whether she liked it or not.
The bell over the front door in the outer office chimed.
We both stilled.
“Missus Scrooge,” Cratchit whispered, a look of panic on her face. No one ever came in through the front. Ever. Our customers knew well enough to come through the back. And if the authorities decided to poke around, we’d both end up in a correction house.
I motioned to her to grab the drape lying nearby. Nodding, she turned and grabbed the fabric. With a hurried snap, she unfurled the cloth. I grabbed the end and helped her cover the machine on which we were working.
“Good afternoon. Hello? Anyone here? Mister Scrooge? Mister Marley?”
With an exasperated huff, I slid my goggles onto my head and pulled off my apron, tossing it onto the workbench.
“Do you want me—” Cratchit began.
“No. Keep the door closed. Stay quiet.”
Bailey nodded.
I headed to the front.
“Allo, ho, ho. Mister Scrooge? Are you in, sir?” a voice called again.
I opened the workshop door, entering the tiny office front. The place was covered in dust. I hadn’t used the space since Marley died. I stared at the two men standing there. They were festively dressed, both wearing red and green scarves with holly berries pinned to their lapels. The nip of cold had turned their noses red. A dusting of snowflakes decorated their clothes. I glanced outside. Snow was falling, and it was already dark. When had it gott
en so late?
“What do you want?” I asked. I was on a tight deadline and in no mood for festive frivolities.
The two men looked at one another, each encouraging the other to speak with a wide array of annoying eye gesturing and head tilting.
I had almost reached the end of my patience when the squatter of the two began. “I apologize for the intrusion, madame. This is Scrooge and Marley’s Wonder and Marvels Studio, is it not? Is Mister Scrooge here? Mister Marley?”
“Mister Scrooge was last seen departing London by airship to India. If you have any luck locating him, then you’re far more fortunate than I have been. As for my partner, Missus Marley, you’ll locate her in Twickenham Cemetery. She’s not much a conversationalist these days, though.”
Their mouths gaping open, the men stared at me.
Idiots. “I am Missus Scrooge. This is my studio. What do you want?”
The second man, the taller of the two, wiped his nose with his scarf, then said, “Oh, madame, please forgive us. We have no wish to bring ill-tidings. In fact, quite the opposite. As the proprietor of this business, we were hoping you’d be willing to make a small contribution to our charity.”
“Charity?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I eyed the men’s clothing, focusing on their boots around which the melted snow was now forming puddles on my floor. I frowned.
The rounder man nodded. “It’s the Christmas season, of course. So many people are in need. Won’t you help? Such a lively business you have…” he said, motioning to the faded images of carousels, spinning carts, and other amusements—all ghosts of my past—on the walls. “Carnival entertainments, isn’t it? Such lovely carousel horses. Such a whimsical work, Missus. Scrooge. You really must love children. Won’t you share a few pence to better the world for your fellow—”
I lifted my hand, silencing the man. “Do you see that behind you?”
The men turned around.
“See what, Missus Scrooge?” the first man asked.
“Right behind you.”
The second man turned. Apparently the brighter of the two, he eyed the door. Sighing, he motioned to his partner, who finally caught my meaning.
“Oh, please. Can I not move your tender heart with the milk of human kindness this holiday season, Missus. Scrooge? There are so many in need—” the round man was saying when the bell over the door rang once more.
Humbug! What was happening tonight? I still had work to finish.
My niece, Fawn, entered. Looking at Fawn was like looking at a duplicate of my dead sister: bouncing golden curls, bright blue eyes, and red cheeks. She was dressed in a striking scarlet-colored coat, holly berries trimming her white fur cap. She smiled mischievously at me.
“Happy Christmas Eve, Aunt,” she told me then turned to the solicitors. “Happy Christmas, gentlemen.”
Fawn crossed the room, her arms outstretched. “Dearest Aunt Ebony.”
Panic swept over me. I crossed my arms and stepped back, steeling myself to her.
She giggled at the sight. “Now, don’t be like that,” she said, grabbing my elbows. She leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks.
“Your nose is as cold as ice,” I complained.
She laughed once more. “Oh, but it’s so beautiful out there. Charles and I were caroling with friends. He stopped at the bakery for some fresh gingerbread. I told him I wanted to pop by for a moment. Now, where is Bailey? Bailey, are you here?” Fawn called, moving toward the workshop. “Bailey?”
“No. Get out of there,” I said. Taking Fawn by the arm, I pulled her back. “She’s working. We have a deadline.”
“Oh, Aunt. For what? No one is waiting on a carnival horse tonight. It’s Christmas Eve. Bailey? Are you there?”
The workshop door opened a crack, Bailey slipping out. “Is that you, Fawn?”
I frowned. “You have work to do, Missus Cratchit.”
“I—” Bailey began, stepping back toward the door.
“Oh, Aunt Ebony. Let me at least say hello,” Fawn said merrily then kissed Bailey on both cheeks. “Oh my word, your cheeks are as cold as my own. Is there no fire in the workshop?”
“Well…” Bailey began, but I gave her a hard look, and she let the sentence fall away.
“How are you? Your husband? The children?” Fawn asked Bailey.
Bailey smiled, but I saw a shadow behind her eyes.
“All is well,” Bailey said simply.
“Your husband, Robert, how is he recovering?” Fawn asked.
Bailey’s husband, Robert, drove a butcher’s cart. Some weeks back, there had been an accident, and the cart had tipped. Robert had broken his leg in the misfortune. Bailey hadn’t said much about it, but I’d assumed he was well. Surely she would have said otherwise if not.
“Well enough. We’re just trying to prevent the cold from setting in.”
Fawn nodded. “Yes. That’s right. Be sure to keep him warm. And little Tim?”
“As well as can be.”
I frowned. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Bailey’s youngest boy, Timothy. A sickly, small lad, he had his own share of health troubles. From time to time, Bailey would run late for work on the boy’s account. A damned inconvenience, really.
Fawn turned to the solicitors once more. “Well, gentlemen, did my aunt give you even a half-pence?”
The men chuckled uncomfortably, giving one another a sidelong glances.
Fawn, knowing the answer, dipped into her fascinator. She took out a ridiculous amount of money and pressed it toward the men.
“Fawn,” I scolded her.
“Aunt, it’s the Christmas season,” she told me. “Look outside. Don’t you see all the merriment? Hear the carolers? It is a season of giving. Here you are, gentlemen.”
“Bless you, miss,” the chubby man told her.
“Bless you all,” the taller man said, nodding to Fawn, Bailey, and me.
“Humbug,” I grumbled under my breath.
Fawn giggled. “Oh, you. Always on with ‘humbug.’”
I looked at the solicitors. “Well, you got what you want. Be on your way.”
“Bless you, miss,” the first man told Fawn again.
“Bless you,” the second one told Fawn as well then turned to me. “Merry Christmas, Missus Scrooge.”
“Humbug,” I replied, gesturing toward the door, but not before I gave Fawn a wink.
At that, Fawn rolled her eyes.
When the men opened the door, a frigid breeze wafted in, carrying snowflakes along with it. Outside, I caught the dulcet tones of people singing “Silent Night.” Ugh. Miserable. If there was one holiday I’d be very happy to skip, it was Christmas. I was glad I hadn’t realized it was so late. At least Christmas Eve was almost over.
“Now,” Fawn said, taking my hand. “Goodness. You’re freezing. Really, Aunt Ebony, you must put more coal on. As I was about to say, Charles and I are expecting you for Christmas tea tomorrow. Oh, and you should stop by tonight. We are having a small gathering of close friends to play games and for dancing. Won’t you join us?”
I would rather die. “I’m afraid I can’t. As I mentioned, we are very busy.”
The hurt look on Fawn’s face surprised me. She scrunched up her eyebrows the same way my sister used to do. “On Christmas Eve? With what?”
“As I said, we have an order that will be collected in the morning. We need to complete it tonight.”
“Well, you can still come for tea tomorrow, can’t you? Charles’ parents will be there, as well as some of his other relatives. It would mean a lot to me if I had someone there,” she said, and this time, I heard the strain of pain hidden in her voice. I knew what it felt like to be all alone in the world. In fact, I knew it better than anyone.
“We’ll see.”
“All right,” Fawn said gently.
Bailey set a comforting hand on Fawn’s arm. “You know your aunt. I already tried to invite her to my home. She’ll have nothing to do with Christmas.”
&nbs
p; “Bloody waste of time and money. People would do well to remember that they will be hungry the day after Christmas too. Wasting all of their wealth on pudding and trimmings and a roasted goose for a few days of frivolity. It’s nonsense. Humbug.”
“Oh, Aunt Ebony,” Fawn said with a light laugh that was the mirror of my dear sister’s. The resemblance was practically unbearable. “Now, you will come for Christmas tea. That is the last argument I’ll hear from you. I’m off to catch Charles and see if it’s not too late to get a mince pie,” Fawn said then turned to Bailey once more. “Happy Christmas, Bailey, to you and yours.”
“And to you, Fawn.”
With a wave, Fawn turned and headed back outside.
“Humbug,” I grumbled in her wake.
Once more, Bailey sighed.
I pulled out my pocket watch. “I’m sick of listening to you sigh. They’ll be here to pick up the package first thing in the morning. Until we get it done, there’s no use huffing and puffing. Back to work.”
“Yes, Missus Scrooge,” Bailey said then headed back into the workshop.
After she’d gone, I crossed the room and stood beside the wide table at which two chairs—one on each side—were placed. I gently set my fingers on Jacqueline’s seat. It had been three years since my partner, Jacqueline Marley, had died. Three years. Nothing had been the same since then.