CRITICS PRAISE CHRISTINE FEEHAN—
“A magnificent storyteller.” (Romantic Times)
THE TWILIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
“Dark suspense and sensual romance co-exist here in unlikely but perfect harmony.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Heart-pounding…extraordinary.”
—Romantic Times
“Brings together ancient magic and the wonder of romance, creating an exciting drama that builds to a thrilling conclusion.”
—A Romance Review
AFTER THE MUSIC
“[A] captivating story…. Christine Feehan has written a gothic novella that is not only a page-turner but is highly recommended!”
—Romantic Times
“A modern day gothic tale that will thrill you and chill you…plenty of sexual tension and wild romance to heat the blood as well.”
—The Belles and Beaux of Romance
“Dark and haunting…reminiscent of classic Gothics à la Victoria Holt and Phyllis Whitney.”
—Romance Reviews Today
BOOKS BY CHRISTINE FEEHAN
The Shadows of Christmas Past
(with Susan Sizemore)
The Twilight Before Christmas
A Very Gothic Christmas
(with Melanie George)
Published by Pocket Books
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Pocket Star Book published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
After the Music copyright © 2001 by Christine Feehan
The Twilight Before Christmas copyright © 2003
by Christine Feehan
The Twilight Before Christmas was previously published individually by Pocket Books. After the Music was previously published by Pocket Books in A Very Gothic Christmas.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN-10: 1-4165-4855-6
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-4855-3
POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Visit us on the World Wide Web:
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Contents
THE TWILIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
-
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
Epilogue
AFTER THE MUSIC
-
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
THE TWILIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
AFTER THE MUSIC
dedication
This book is dedicated to my sister Lisa, who has a special magic all her own.
acknowledgments
Thank you to Heather King and Rose Brungard for the wonderful chilling Christmas poem they so graciously provided to me to use for this book!
Be sure to write to Christine at
[email protected] to get a FREE exclusive screen saver and join the PRIVATE email list to receive an announcement when Christine’s books are released.
The Twilight Before Christmas
by
Heather King and Rose Brungard
’Twas the twilight before Christmas and all through the lands,
Not a thing has occurred that was not of my hand.
The snowglobe they hold has a secret inside,
Where the mist rolls in place of the snow that’s outside.
A chill, colder still than the air they will feel,
As I rejoice in release as I slip past the seal
A wreath of holly meant to greet,
Looks much better tossed in the street.
A town dreams of sweet thoughts while nestled in bed,
Until nightmares of me begin to dance in their heads.
The time, it was right, for a present or two,
And the fog on the sand holds a secret, a clue
As lovers meet beneath mistletoe bright,
Terror ignites down below them this night
And the blood runs red on the pristine white snow…
While around all the houses the Christmas lights glow.
A star burns hot in the dead of the night,
As the bell tolls it’s now midnight
Beneath the star, that shines so bright,
An act unfolds, to my delight
In the stocking hung with gentle care,
A mystery, I know, is hidden there.
A candle burns with an eerie glow,
As it melts, the wax does flow,
My last gift now, is a special one,
A candy cane for a special son,
He watches and tends and knows the land,
But not enough to evade my hand.
All deeds are now done, forgiveness is mine,
As two people share a love for all time.
chapter
1
’Twas the twilight before Christmas and all through the lands
Not a thing has occurred that was not of my hand
“DON’T SAY IT. DON’T SAY IT. DON’T SAY IT,” Danny Granite muttered the mantra under his breath as he sat in the truck watching his older brother carefully selecting hydro-organic tomatoes from Old Man Mars’s fruit stand. Danny glanced at the keys, assuring himself the truck was running and all that his brother had to do was leap in and gun it. He leaned out the window, gave a halfhearted wave to the elderly man, and scowled at his brother. “Get a move on, Matt. I’m starving here.”
Matt grimaced at him, then smiled with smooth charm at the old man. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Mars,” he said cheerfully as he handed over several bills and lifted the bag of tomatoes. “Less than two weeks before Christmas. I’m looking forward to the pageant this year.”
Danny groaned. A black scowl settled over Old Man Mars’s face. His craggy brows drew together in a straight, thick line. He grunted in disgust and spat on the ground.
The smile on Matt’s face widened into a boyish grin as he hurried around the bed of the pickup truck to yank open the driver-side door. Almost before settling into his seat, he cranked up the radio so that “Jingle Bells” blared loudly from the speakers.
“You’d better move it, Matt,” Dan muttered nervously, looking out the window, back toward the fruit stand. “He’s arming himself. You just had to wish him a Merry Christmas, didn’t you? You know he hates that pageant. And you know very well playing that music is adding insult to injury!”
The first tomato came hurtling toward the back window of the truck as Matt hit the gas and the truck leaped forward, fishtailing, tires throwing dirt into the air. The tomato landed with deadly accuracy, splattering juice, seed, and pulp across the back window. Several more missiles hit the tailgate as the truck tore out of the parking lot and raced down the street.
Dan
ny scowled at his brother. “You just had to wish him Merry Christmas. Everyone knows he hates Christmas. He kicked the shepherd last year during the midnight pageant. Now he’ll be more ornery than ever. If you’d just avoided the word, we might have gone unscathed this year, but now he’ll have to retaliate.”
Matt’s massive shoulders shook as he laughed. “As I recall you played the shepherd last year. He didn’t hurt you that bad, Danny boy. A little kick on the shin is good for you. It builds character.”
“You only think it’s funny because it wasn’t your shin.” Danny rubbed his leg as if it still hurt nearly a year later.
“You need to toughen up,” Matt pointed out. He took the highway, a thin ribbon of a road, twisting and turning along the cliffs above the ocean. It was impossible to go fast on the switchbacks although Matt knew the road well. He maneuvered around a sharp curve, setting up for the next sharp turn. It ran uphill and nearly doubled back. The mountain swelled on his right, a high bank grown over with emerald green grasses and breathtaking colors from the explosion of wildflowers. On his left, a narrow ribbon of a trail meandered along the cliffs to drop away to the wide expanse of blue ocean with its whitecaps and booming waves.
“Oh, my God! That’s Kate Drake,” Danny said gleefully, pointing to a woman on a horse, riding along the narrow trail on the side of the road.
“That can’t be her.” Matt hastily rolled down his window and craned his neck, gawking unashamedly. He could only see the back of the rider, who was dressed all in white and had thick chestnut hair that flamed red in the sunshine. His heart pounded. His mouth went dry. Only Kate Drake could get away with wearing white and riding a horse so close to the side of the road. It had to be her. He slowed the truck to get a better look as he went by, turning down the radio at the same time.
“Matt! Watch where you’re going,” Danny yelled, bracing himself as the truck flew off the road and rolled straight into the grass-covered bank. It halted abruptly. Both men were slammed back in their seats and held prisoner by their seat belts.
“Damn!” Matt roared. He turned to his brother. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right, you big lug, you ran us off the road gawking at Kate Drake again. I hurt everywhere. I need a neck brace, and I think I might have broken my little finger.” Danny held up his hand, gripping his wrist and emitting groans loudly.
“Oh shut up,” Matt said rudely.
“Matthew Granite. Good heavens, are you hurt? I have a cell phone and can go out to the bluff and call for help.”
Kate’s voice was everything he remembered. Soft. Melodic. Meant for long nights and satin sheets. Matt turned his head to look at her. To drink her in. It had been four long years since he’d last spoken with her. She stood beside his truck, reins looped in her hand, her large green eyes anxious. He couldn’t help but notice she had the most beautiful skin. Flawless. Perfect. It looked so soft, he wanted to stroke his finger down her cheek just to see if she was real.
“I’m fine, Kate.” It was a miracle he found his voice. His tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. “I must have tried to take the turn a little too fast.”
A snort of derision came from Danny’s side of the truck. “You were driving like a turtle. You just weren’t looking where you were going.”
The toe of Matt’s boot landed solidly against his brother’s shin, and Danny let out a hair-raising yowl.
“No wonder Old Man Mars wanted to kick you last year,” Matt muttered under his breath.
“Daniel? Are you hurt?” Kate sounded anxious, but her fascinating lower lip quivered as if close to laughter.
Determined to get her away from his brother, Matt hastily shoved the door open with more force than necessary. The door thumped soundly against Kate’s legs. She jumped back, the horse half reared, and Danny, damn him, laughed like the hyena he was.
Matt groaned. It never failed. He was a decorated U.S. Army Ranger, had been in the service for years, running covert missions where his life depended on his physical skills and his cool demeanor, yet he always managed to feel clumsy and rough in front of Kate. He unfolded his large frame, towering over her, feeling like a giant. Kate was always perfect. Poised. Articulate. Graceful. There she was, looking beautiful dressed all in white with her hair attractively windblown. She was the only person in the world who could make him lose his cool and raise his temperature at the same time just by smiling.
“Is Danny really hurt?” Kate asked, turning her head slightly while she tried to calm the nervous horse.
It gave Matt a great view of her figure. He drank her in, his hungry gaze drifting over her soft curves. He’d always loved watching her walk away from him. Nobody moved in the same sexy way she did. She looked so proper, yet she had that come-on walk and the bedroom eyes and glorious hair a man would want to feel sliding over his skin all night long. He just managed to stifle a groan. How had he not known, sensed that Kate was back in town. His radar must be failing him.
“Danny’s fine, Kate,” Matt assured her.
She sent him a quick smile over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling at him. “Just how many accidents have you been in, Matt? It seems that on the rare occasions I’ve seen you, over the last few years, your poor vehicle has been crunched.”
It was true, but it was her fault. Kate Drake acted as some sort of catalyst for strange behavior. He was good at everything. Everything. Unless Kate was around—then he could barely manage to speak properly.
The horse moved restlessly, demanding Kate’s immediate attention, giving Matt time to realize his jeans and blue chambray work shirt were streaked with dirt, sawdust, and a powdery cement mixture in complete contrast to her immaculate white attire. He took the opportunity to slap the dust from his clothing, sending up a gray cloud that enveloped Kate as she turned back toward him. She coughed delicately, fluttering her long feathery lashes to keep the dust from stinging her eyes. Another derisive hoot came from Danny’s direction.
Matt sent his brother a look that promised instant death before turning back to Kate. “I had no idea you were in town. The town gossips let me down.” Inez at the grocery store had mentioned Sarah was in town, as well as Hannah and Abigail, three of her six sisters, but Inez hadn’t said a word about Kate.
“Sarah came back for a visit, and you know how my family is, we get together as often as possible.” She shrugged, a simple enough gesture, but on her it was damned sexy. “I’ve been in London doing research for my latest thriller.” She laughed softly. The sound played right down his spine and did interesting things to his body. “London fog is always so perfect for a scary setting. Before that it was Borneo.” Kate traveled the world, researching and writing her bestselling novels and murder mysteries. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her, so sophisticated he felt primitive in her presence. She was so sexy he always had the desire to turn caveman and toss her over his shoulder and carry her off to his private lair. “Sarah’s engaged to Damon Wilder.” She tilted her head slightly and patted the horse’s neck again. “Have you met him?”
“No, but everyone is talking about it. No one expected Sarah to get married.”
Matt watched the way the sunlight kissed her hair, turning the silky strands into a blazing mass of temptation. His gaze followed her hand stroking the horse’s neck, and he noted the absence of a ring with relief.
Danny cleared his throat. He leaned out the driver’s side. “You’re drooling, bro.” He whispered it in an overloud voice.
Without missing a beat, Matt kicked the door closed. “Are you going to be staying very long this visit?” He held his breath waiting for her answer. To make matters worse, Danny snickered. Matt sent up a silent vow that their parents would have one less child to fuss over before the day was out.
“I’ve actually decided to stay and make Sea Haven my home base. I bought the old mill up on the cliffs above Sea Lion Cove. I’m planning on renovating the mill into a bookstore and coffee shop, and to modernize the house so I
can live in it. I’m tired of wandering. I’m ready to come home again.”
Kate smiled. She had perfect teeth to go with her perfect skin. Matt found himself staring at her while the earth shook beneath his feet. He stood there, grinning at the thought of Kate living in their hometown permanently.
A shadow swept across the sky, black threads swirling and boiling, a dark cauldron of clouds blotting out the sun. A seagull shrieked once. Then the entire flock of birds overhead took up the warning cry. Matt was so caught up in Kate’s smile, he didn’t realize the ground was really rolling, and it wasn’t just her amazing effect on him. The horse backed dangerously close to the road, tossing its head in fright, nearly dragging Kate from her feet. Matt swiftly reached past her and gathered the reins in one hand to steady the animal. He swept his other arm around Kate’s waist, anchoring her smaller body to his, to keep her from falling as a jagged crack opened several feet from them and spread rapidly along the ground, heading right for Kate’s feet. Matt lifted her up and away from the gaping hole, dragging her back several feet, horse in tow, away from the spreading crack. It was only a few inches wide, but it was several inches deep, very long, and ran up the side of the embankment.
The Wicked and the Wondrous Page 1