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I Messed Up Christmas (A Ghost & Abby Mystery Book 2)

Page 6

by Jo-Ann Carson


  It couldn’t be more simple: Christmas is love.

  16

  Do You Hear What I Hear

  Mayor Madison and Eric were in my office when I arrived. Of course His Honor couldn’t see Eric, but I could and he looked hurt.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You said you have the angel.”

  “And I do.” Eric pointed to the cupboard door and I took out the tree-topper.

  The mayor gasped. “You did it!”

  “Of course. I said I would and I did.”

  He pulled out an envelope stuffed with cash.

  I put the angel down on my desk and shook my head. “This is for the cove.”

  “But it’s your job.”

  “I know. But it’s Christmas.” I knew the town couldn’t really afford my bill.

  “Well, well, I . . .” He made a pretty political speech.

  I held up my hand half-way through. “I have one favor to ask.”

  “Name it.”

  “Fix the plumbing for the dock people.”

  “Done. I’ll get the city crew working on it right away.”

  “Thank you. Merry Christmas.” I stood up.

  “Wait. Who did it? Shouldn’t we be laying charges?”

  I sure didn’t want to tell him that it was vampiric beast. That would only confirm his bigoted ideas that all the evil in the world was supernatural. “I found it.” Which was partly true. “But when Christmas is over, I’m going to ask the police to question Chris Zonkers, one of the SoC guys. I saw a sock beside his cell phone. It may mean nothing, but it’s the only clue I have as to who placed your ransom call. He didn’t steal the angel, but he may have wanted the money.”

  His face scrunched up. “A sock?”

  “Sorry, I don’t have more clues, but at least we have our angel back.”

  He looked ready to launch into another political speech so I put up my hand. “It’s almost Christmas and I have a lot to do, Mayor. I hope you understand.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He grabbed the angel and left.

  17

  All I Want for Christmas

  As the door closed behind Mayor Madison, I turned to Eric. “We need to talk.” I needed to tell him again how little Dante meant to me and how much he meant to me and how everything in the last few days had been garbled up because the Christmas season does that to me. I try extra hard to make it perfect for my kids, because I feel badly for them that they don’t have a dad, but I should know better than that. As I rummaged in my tired brain for a way to say everything I needed to say to him, he shimmered closer to me.

  I stopped breathing for a minute. It was so good to have him home.

  His eyes blazed blue. “I didn’t know what to get you for Christmas. I wanted it to be something truly special, because this is the first Christmas we have had together after we’ve mated.”

  Mated? That put it lightly. Last year, he left dried rose petals in my bed and told me dirty Norse tales. What did he have in mind tonight? I pulled a hand through my hair, “Maybe I should give you my gift first,” I said.

  I’m lousy at keeping secrets. Whenever I buy a gift early, one of two things happens: I hide it somewhere ultra-secret and then forget where it is, or I give it early. But this time I had kept my gift hush-hush, partly because he just hadn’t been around and partly because I hadn’t been sure about it. I still wasn’t sure about it. Hell, I may never be sure about it.

  He tilted his head. “I want to go first.”

  Of course he did. He was a Viking. I bit my lip. “Okay, you first.”

  Using his kinetic powers he opened the desk drawer and pulled out a small jewellery box. While my eyes were transfixed on the box, he shifted his body to rest upon one knee. The box landed in my open hand. I looked at him. The world around us faded to nothing.

  It didn’t matter that . . . None of that mattered. All that mattered was him and me.

  Absorbed in his eyes, I waited.

  “My ӓskling, I love you more than anything in this world or beyond. I love you more than all. I want you to be my wife.”

  I reminded myself to breathe as tears filled my eyes. Never had I felt more cherished or cared for, but the undeniable truth remained: he was dead and I was very much alive. “Eric . . .”

  He held up his hand. “No, don’t say no. Not yet. Hear me out. We have an unusual relationship.”

  I’ll say.

  “One that spans centuries. I realize I am much older than you, and you find some of my values out-dated, but our spirits are so aligned that those things don’t matter.”

  “You’re right. When I’m with you, the differences in our ages and cultures don’t matter.” I took a deep breath. “But as much as I love you, and I do love you. I love everything about you. Not just your sinfully good looks or rock-star love making, but you. You have the biggest heart I know, and although I tease you about your beliefs, I admire your courage and integrity. You are such a good man, I feel small beside you.”

  “But?”

  And now I had to say it out loud. “But I have to be practical. I have children to raise, and being married to a ghost complicates things.” I let my breath out slowly. “Can’t we just go on as we are?” At least until I figure things out. But I didn’t say that part out loud.

  His specter rose. “If I was alive would you marry me?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  His mouth straight-lined.

  “But not if it meant you becoming the sorcerer’s assassin. You know that.”

  He said nothing.

  “Eric.”

  “If you want to keep your independence, I understand. I will not leave your side. I will continue to be with you and the kids every day, because I know in my heart that we are united.”

  My hands trembled as I opened the box. Inside was the prettiest ring I’d ever seen. The band was made of strands of braided silver and the stone was a ruby, my favorite gem. Tears fell down my cheeks. “If this is meant to be my engagement ring, I can’t accept it.”

  “Keep it as a symbol of my love for you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  I put it on. It fit perfectly and it gave me the strength to say what I had to say. “Eric, I have a special gift for you as well.”

  Sadness pulled at the edge of his smile. “You don’t need to give me a gift, my ӓskling. Being with you is the best gift of all. And the ring is only part of my present.”

  “Part?”

  “Remember Guiden gave us two hours to be together. I think it’s time to use them.”

  We could do a lot in two hours, but I shook my head. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Leave him to me. He is my worry. Let us be together again.”

  “I don’t know, Eric. Do you think you could refuse his offer of immortality after we spend another night together?”

  “I will, because I know you expect it of me.”

  I said nothing.

  “And I expect it of myself. I will not be anyone’s assassin.”

  I nodded and ran my finger over his ring to gather strength. Either I told him now, or I would never tell him. “Eric, let me tell you about my gift to you.”

  “It is special?”

  “Oh it’s special.”

  “Last year you found a copy of a book of Norse tales. The year before you found some Swedish music. What have you found for me this year?”

  If I said it out loud, I could never take it back. I had reached the point of no-return, but I knew which way I wanted to go. If he were alive, I would tell him to sit down.

  His brows formed a V. “What is it, my love?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  A Note From Jo-Ann

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for choosing to read Christmas story. Readers like you make me a happy writer.

  I’d love to keep in touch. You can learn about my latest publications from my newsletter (sign up here). It contains fun contests and my latest news. Trust me, I’ll never sell or share
your email address with anyone else.

  Whatever you do, please, don’t be a stranger. My home on the Internet is my Website, which contains all my social media links. To send me a personal note, you can email me at connect@jo-anncarson.com. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story.

  “Every time a reader leaves a review a writer gets a new pencil or two.”

  It may sound like a cheesy-line, but it’s true. You may not realize it, but you are in the best position to help me as a writer. How? Tell your friends about my stories. Reviews help readers find books. If you like my stories, please, take a few minutes and write a review. The best place to post my reviews is on Amazon. The next best is Goodreads. I’d love both. Word of mouth and written reviews are pure gold for writers.

  On the next few pages you’ll find information about the other books.

  Thank you again for reading my stories.

  Jo-Ann

  Facebook: Jo-Ann Carson’s Author Page

  Twitter: @Jo_AnnCarson

  Other Books by Jo-Ann Carson

  Midnight Magic

  A Ghost & Abby Mystery

  Ghostly Charms, Magic Spells and Secrets

  As the janitor in a haunted house, single mom Abby Jenkins has many contacts with the living and the dead in the small Pacific Northwest town of Sunset Cove, which puts her in a perfect position to solve local mysteries. Or so she thinks. Hired to find diamonds hidden in a haunted manor she gets help from a Viking ghost with existential issues. Will she survive? This book contains bad-boy ghosts, mischievous magic, and a woman who knows what she wants in a Viking hayloft.

  * * *

  The Gambling Ghosts Series (sweet – fantasy, adventure and romance)

  A Highland Ghost for Christmas , Novella #1

  A Viking Ghost for Valentine’s Day, Novella # 2

  Confessions of a Pirate Ghost, Novella #3

  The Biker Ghost Meets His Match, Novella #4

  * * *

  Mata Hari Series (A single woman ~ A double life)

  Steamy Romantic Suspense:

  Covert Danger

  Ancient Danger

  Lovin’ Danger

  * * *

  The Vancouver Blues Series (Danger waits in the alley …)

  Steamy Romantic Suspense:

  Black Cat Blues

  Ain’t Misbehavin’

  About Jo-Ann Carson

  Jo-Ann Carson writes a saucy mix of fantasy, adventure and romance polished with humor. Currently she’s working on the Ghost & Abby Mystery Series, which is a spin-off from her Gambling Ghosts series. She lives in the Pacific Northwest, loves watching sunrises, drinking coffee and playing mah jong.

  Jo-Ann loves to interact with readers on social media:

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