Celebrating Christmas with
My Characters
The characters from my
romantic suspense novel, “A Stone’s Throw” (Limitless Publishing, November
2015) decide to hold a Christmas party to thank their readers. Alicia Fairmont,
the main character, a widowed librarian, is hosting the event along with her
handsome yet mysterious lover, John McKinney, the publisher of the Cobble Cove Courier newspaper. Co-hosts
include Mac, John’s 80-year old father; Dora Kantor, the Cobble Cove Innkeeper;
and Sheila Whitehead, the library director. Guests include Pamela Morgan,
Alicia’s sister-in-law; Abigail (Gilly) Nostran, Alicia’s best friend; Casey,
the diner owner, Edith and Rose Carver the town’s “cousins;” and Detectives
Michael Faraday and Ron Ramsay. Sneaky, the Siamese library cat; and Fido, John
and Mac’s old golden retriever, are also invited.
The hosts have brought the
main dishes including a few excerpts for appetizers. The guests have prepared
desserts. Sneaky and Fido have untrimmed the tree and assisted with taking down
the decorations that Edith and Rose so painstakingly set up.
The festivities start with
a toast around the table in the Cobble Cove library’s reading room with the
wine that Pamela supplied. Alicia proposes a toast to the author, Debbie De
Louise, for bringing her and the other characters to life. Everyone except
Sneaky and Fido raise their glasses. Alicia hasn’t forgotten the animals.
Sneaky has cream in his bowl; Fido chilled water in his.
Although Sneaky and Fido
took down most of the ornaments on the tree and pulled off the ribbon and tags
of the gifts underneath, Alicia knows to whom each one belongs. Sneaky plays
with a golden ornament ball, rolling it around the floor, while Fido chases his
tail around the tree sniffing all the presents for a hint of what they contain.
“When shall we open the
gifts?” Mac asks, like an eager young boy, although he’s in his eighth
decade.
“Be patient, dad,” John
says. “It's not Christmas yet, so we won’t all be exchanging for another few
weeks. Those presents are from Debbie to her main characters.”
“Debbie is so thoughtful,”
Dora says. “I should invite her to breakfast at the inn one day. I’ll make her
some of my special muffins.”
“I've been thinking of
inviting her to lunch at dad’s place to sample our special family recipe for
PB&J sandwiches like I did Alicia early in our acquaintance,” John adds.
“Great idea, son. I’ll
break out some of my canned preserves for her, too.”
“What about dinner at the
diner?” Casey suggests. “I think Debbie would enjoy my juicy cheeseburgers and
fries even though she’s dieting. It would be good for her to take a break to
celebrate the release of our book.”
“Dessert would be nice,
too,” Gilly interjects. “I know she won't be able to resist the chocolate chip
cookies I bake for my three sons’ Boy Scout troop.”
“I’ll serve her drinks,”
Pamela offers. “The bar in my home is well stocked. Afterwards, we can chat
upstairs in my private home library where I know she’d be comfortable since she
is a librarian herself.”
Edith and Rose, always
willing to volunteer for events, speak up. “I can bake her a cake,” Rose the
younger and quieter sister whispers. Edith, the older sister, says, “I can’t
cook her anything, but I could crochet her a warm holiday sweater.”
“I make a nice crockpot
stew,” Sheila exclaims.
“If Debbie’s interested, I
wouldn't mind asking my wife to invite her to Christmas dinner,” Faraday
announces. “We have turkey, and I do an excellent job carving it.”
Ramsay huffs. “I’ll throw
in some leftover donuts from the station as long as I can have some. What about
you, Alicia?”
She thinks a moment. “The
best gift we can give Debbie is to help her sell our book by being great
characters, and there's a rumor she’s working on a sequel to “A Stone's Throw.”
We can all help her write it.”
“Even Sneaky and Fido can
help,” John adds. “People love to read about pets and their silly antics.” At
his words, the dog and cat come to opposite sides of the table to beg for the
food heaped in the center on top of the Santa Claus patterned tablecloth Gilly
had brought up with her from Long Island. The velvet table runner and crystal
candle holders were an odd match, but Pamela insisted they added a rich
festiveness to their dining. John had picked up the Poinsettia arrangements
from the Cobble Cove florist that graced the end of the table. It was also his
doing that a mistletoe hung from the reading room’s alcove.
“I think we should eat,”
Ramsay remarks, “but make sure you keep those animals away from the table.”
Alicia keeps her mouth shut
from the reply she is tempted to make to the stout police officer.
Faraday, aware that his
partner has committed another one of the social blunders he’s notorious for,
mutters, “Calm down, Ron. Before we eat, we should say Grace and then Alicia
has some excerpt appetizers for us. I think you and I are in one of them.”
“Thank you, Detective
Faraday” John says. “I'll begin with the meal prayer and then Alicia can read
the excerpts.”
There was silence around
the table as John said Grace and then Alicia stand up, a few typed sheets of paper
in her hands that Debbie has provided.
Alicia brushes back her
long chestnut hair. She’s wearing the wine-colored pant suit John generously
gifted to her on Long Island after a tragedy that nearly left her destitute
brought her back there.
“This first excerpt that
Debbie would like me to share with you all is when I first came to Cobble Cove
and John took me to the library where I met Mac.” She smiles in the old man’s
direction.
Cobble Cove Library was small. It may have once been a house.
Brick, like many of the town’s buildings, it had a porch similar to Dora’s inn
with flower baskets hanging from its eaves. Out front, there was a statue of a
boy and girl holding a book. The sign next to the statue read, “Cobble Cove
Library,” along with a graphic of an open book lying on a bed of cobblestones
and, etched underneath, “Est. 1915.” The sliding glass front doors seemed
out of place. It looked as if they were recently added. Alicia walked through
the turnstile in front of John, who urged her inside first. She guessed the man
at the circulation desk was John’s father. The older man’s eyes, the same color
as his son’s, lit up when he saw them. “Hey, there, young man,” he said, “I see
you’ve brought us a pretty visitor.”
Alicia had never been one to blush, but she felt heat rise to her
face and imagined it might be reddening.
“I sure did,” John said, walking over to the desk. “Dad, this is
Alicia Fairmont. She’s a librarian from Long Island. Alicia, this is my father,
John, Senior. You can call him Mac. Everyone does.”
“Where’s our excerpt?”
Ramsay demands after Alicia finishes reading.
“Stop that, Ron,” Faraday
warns his partner. “She’ll get to it. Have some patience, please.”
Alicia turns to the next
page. “This part I especially like, and I think Sneaky will, too.”
The Siamese, hearing his
name, comes to her and circles her legs purring. She bends down and pets his
head as she reads the passage:
When she entered the storage room, she didn’t see Sneaky, although
she thought he might’ve headed there to use his litter box. Cats can be quiet
and liked to sleep in the strangest spots, so he could be there in some corner.
Mac’s jacket was still draped across the chair by the desk. She laughed
recalling the story about what Sneaky had once done to it out of spite, so
typical of an angered cat. She sat in the chair and perused the stack of books
on the desk. A few were from James Patterson’s “Private” series. She didn’t read
too many series and had only read a few of Patterson’s standalone titles. As
she was about to choose a book from the pile, she heard scratching in the
corner. She jumped. Hopefully, that was Sneaky and not a mouse he hadn’t
caught, for this place probably attracted them. She walked cautiously to the
corner where she’d heard the noise. It wasn’t coming from the litter box under
the window but from the opposite side.
Since the one bulb in the room was dim, she could hardly see in the
dark recesses of the room. She wished she had a flashlight. As she approached
the area where she heard the noise, she saw a bunch of boxes. She was relieved
to see Sneaky scratching the side of one, cardboard pieces scattered at his
feet. “Oh, Sneaky,” she said. “You scared me, but you’re only using a box for a
scratching post.” The cat, caught in the act, stopped in mid-scratch and
scampered away through his cat flap. Alicia made a note to speak to John about
helping her find a real scratching post for Sneaky, but before she left the
room, she went over to the boxes. She figured they contained more books, but
when she looked inside the one Sneaky had been scratching, she saw a few papers
bundled together with rope. Newspapers? They weren’t that thick. She realized
as she picked up the first bundle, they were a stack of letters. She felt
uneasy snooping through them and was about to toss them next to the other two
stacks in the box when she caught the name on the top envelope, Miss Carol
Parsons. Her heart thudded in tempo with the rain. Were these the letters Mac
wrote to Peter’s mother all those years ago? If so, how had Mac gotten them
back?
I think Fido wants
an excerpt he’s in now, too,” John points out as the dog begins to wag his
tail.
“I have one right
here,” Alicia comments returning to her reading. “This is actually a very sweet
scene.”
Alicia grabbed her robe and slipped into it. Still sleepy and
remembering the dream, she joined Sheila downstairs. John wasn’t with her, but
she saw him through the library windows. He was on a snow blower, clearing the
walk. Fido ran next to him, snow hitting his furry face. Alicia realized the
noise of the blower was what she’d heard in her dream.
“What time is it?” she asked Sheila, who was also in her robe.
Although the sun wasn’t fully up, the snow made the sky appear
lighter by its reflection.
“Six a.m. I have a feeling John didn’t sleep well. I’m glad he’s
clearing our walk. I’m putting on some coffee for us. I’m sure he’ll appreciate
a cup after he finishes.”
It wasn’t long before John rapped on the door. Sheila opened it,
and John and Fido bounded in, both shedding snow over the library entryway.
“Look at you two,” Sheila exclaimed. “You’d better mop up this
floor later, John. You know animals aren’t allowed in the library.” She was
half smiling as she admonished him.
“What about Sneaky?” John asked.
“That’s different. He’s a library cat.”
“Well, maybe you should get a library dog too. Fido would make a
good watch dog. You should consider it.”
Hearing his name and sensing an animal intruder, Sneaky appeared
out of nowhere, arching his spine and hissing at the dog. Fido backed away in
mock terror.
“Some watchdog, afraid of a cat.” Sheila laughed.
John turned to Fido. “It’s okay, boy, that’s only a kitty.” Sneaky
scooted away, and Fido relaxed at John’s side.
“Enough with those
animals,” Ramsay exclaims when Alicia pauses, “Where is my excerpt?”
“Coming right up,” she
smiles. “This is the scene of our first introduction and how polite you were to
us.”
“Detective Faraday and Detective Ramsay will be with you soon,” the
officer told them on his way out.
Alicia realized she was holding her breath and clenching her hands
in her lap.
“Try to relax,” John said, sensing her mood, “I know it’s hard, but
being nervous won’t help anything.”
Alicia nodded. “Thanks for staying. You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did. I need to give you a character reference.” He smiled
and she felt a little calmer.
She was hoping they wouldn’t have to wait long, so was glad when
the two officers strode into the room. Both wore badges, so she could tell them
apart. But even if they weren’t identified, she could see by their expressions
they were indeed playing good cop/bad cop. Faraday, taller than John, smiled as
he came in the room and extended his hand to her and then John. “Detective
Faraday, glad to meet you, and thanks for coming down.”
Ramsay, who stood behind Faraday, was a shorter, stockier man. His
expression, behind thick eyebrows, was wary and calculating. He didn’t shake
hands with them but simply nodded when Faraday introduced him as his partner,
Detective Ramsay.
John thanked them. “Nice to meet you, Detectives.” Alicia stayed
silent.
Faraday remained standing next to John while Ramsay sat at the desk
across from Alicia. This made her uncomfortable. The man’s dark, squinty eyes
seemed to follow her and ignore John.
Alicia places the excerpts
down after reading the last one. Everyone cheers her renditions except Ramsay
who stands up, his face flushed with anger. “Debbie has some nerve to portray
me that way. This is some party. I’m leaving, and I didn’t even get to eat.”
“Wait a minute, Detective
Ramsay,” Casey declares, “at least you got an excerpt. I own the only diner in
town, and Debbie didn’t even bother writing one for me.”
“What about us?” Edith and
Rose exclaim, “We play important roles in the book as church and social
committee members of the town.”
“Don’t complain,” Gilly
adds, “I’m Alicia’s best friend, and there isn’t even an excerpt for me.”
“If anyone should’ve had an
excerpt it should’ve been me,” Sheila says. “I’m the library director. I
offered Alicia the job that changed her life.”
“Yes, but, as I recall, you
were also a suspect in the mystery,” Pamela contends. “I think I’m the most
interesting character, at least the richest.”
John, seeing a fight in the
making, tries to control the group. “Listen, everyone, you all play important
roles in “A Stone’s Throw.” Not all the characters were invited, so you should
all consider yourselves special. I propose that before we eat, we open Debbie’s
gifts. Perhaps they will help us regain the Christmas spirit.”
“I think that’s a good
idea,” Alicia says. “I will hand out the gifts.”
She starts with Sheila.
Debbie’s gift to her is wrapped in Christmas paper featuring the library logo
of a book lying on a bed of cobblestones. Inside the box, Sheila finds a
colorful variety of headbands of different materials – silks, cottons,
leathers. “Oh, my,” Sheila says slipping a shimmery silver one on to tame her
red locks. “These are lovely, and perfect for everything from holiday
entertaining to casual jaunts around town.”
Next, Alicia brings a box
over to Gilly. Her friend eagerly unwraps the Santa Claus paper to find a dozen
bodice ripper romance novels. She smiles. “Debbie knew just what I wanted in my
bed on these cold winter nights. Gotta keep these away from the boys, though.”
Pamela’s gift was long and
thin. Its wrapping was pure white with glittery golden stars. “Debbie really
shouldn’t have,” she says, “I have everything I need.” But when she opens the
gift, she is astonished. “It’s a painting of my horse, Star. How beautiful.
Debbie has combined my two loves into a perfect gift.”
“Debbie also has a present
for each of your daughters,” Alicia adds handing Pamela two small gifts.
“How thoughtful,” Pamela
says taking them. “The girls are coming home from Europe for New Years, so I
will give these to them then.”
Dora’s gift was just an
envelope with a pretty red bow. She tore it open to find a subscription of
theater tickets for her and a guest to the Sunday shows in Carlsville. “These
are great. Wait until Charlie sees how kind Debbie was to me for the holidays.
Now we can put the savings from our theater shows into purchases for the inn.”
Casey received artwork like
Pamela, except his rolled up gift was a limited edition poster signed by the
Beatles; John, Paul, Ringo, and George. “Wow,” Casey exclaims as he unrolls the
green ribbon that binds the poster. “How did Debbie manage this? I’ll hang it
up on the diner wall near my yellow submarine model. It will look so cool.”
Alicia notices Ramsay fidgeting
in his chair, so she knows he’s impatient for his gift. She hands him a large
unwrapped brown box. “This is for you, Ramsay.”
“It better not be another
picture,” he says. “And how come Debbie didn’t even bother wrapping it? I’m the
most interesting character of the bunch. She owes me.”
Alicia watches as Ramsay
tugs the taped box open with his pudgy fingers. As he spills the contents on
the floor, she winces at the case of extra strong deodorant. Remembering that
uncomfortable ride in his police car where she had to open the window to escape
the smell of sweat emanating from the detective, she understood Debbie’s choice
for his present, but he was insulted.
“How dare she!” he shouts
jumping up. “I’m leaving this awful party. It seems she plays favorites with
the rest of you. But before I go, I must see my partner’s gift.”
Alicia hesitates but there
are only a few gifts left. She brings Faraday’s gift over to him. Ramsay
watches with his beady dark eyes as the other detective opens the Holly wrapped
paper and removes an electric carving knife.” He smiled. “I guess Debbie
recalls how I carve the Turkey at all my family’s holiday gatherings and she
wanted to make my work easier.”
“See,” Ramsay points at
Faraday, “He even got something nice.”
“I think Debbie was trying
to give us all something useful,” Alicia says. If you want to leave that’s up
to you, but we’ll be eating right after everyone opens their presents (she knew
the stout detective wouldn’t give up a free meal).
Predictably, Ramsay sits
back down. “I can arrest you for bribery, but I don’t want to ruin your holiday,
and that turkey looks mighty nice.” Alicia could almost see him salivate.
“Okay then. This one’s for
Edith and Rose. I think Debbie gave you ladies joint gifts.” She places the
festive snowman-wrapped package between the sisters. Edith and Rose both tug at
the red ribbon to loosen it. Alicia passes Edith the scissor and she cuts the
paper as Rose tears it off. Inside are a pile of decorating, baking, and
crochet books. Rose takes the cookbooks, while Edith takes the craft ones. They
split the decorating ones. “We usually borrow these from the library, but it’ll
be nice to have our own editions,” Edith squeaks in her high voice. Rose just
smiles.
“Here’s Mac’s gift,” Alicia
says passing John’s father a candy cane wrapped box along with a scissor. Mac
cuts it open and grins. “Just what I wanted, a set of canning jars for my
preserves. I can make another batch of our family’s secret PB&J recipe. In
fact, I also brought some of my homemade preserves to spread on our dinner
rolls. I hope you all like it.”
“I’m sure we will, dad,”
John says. “Who’s next, Ali?”
“Debbie didn’t forget our
furry friends,” Alicia explains taking two more gifts from under the tree. “I
will have to open these for Fido and Sneaky.” Like Dora’s theater tickets, the
dog’s gift was in an envelope with a green bow on it. Alicia opens it and
passes the folded paper inside to Mac. “Police dog training lessons, gosh.”
Mac’s grin widens showing the dimple John’s inherited. “I guess after Fido
assisted John in our book’s search, Debbie figured he might do well to train
with the police.”
“I’m not training that
mutt,” Ramsay declares. Faraday shushes him with a look.
“This is for Sneaky,”
Alicia carries a tall box wrapped with Christmas mice over to the cat. “I guess
Debbie had a sense of humor when wrapping this.” She rips open the paper and
leaves it on the floor for Sneaky to roll around in and tear. The cat ignores
his present that turns out to be a scratching post. “We’ll just add a little
catnip to it,” Sheila says. “It’ll be a lot neater than his scratching up
cardboard boxes in the library’s storage room.”
“So, what’s for us?” John
asks now that all the guests have received their presents.
Alicia brings John his
gift. It’s a big box covered in red and white snowflakes reminding Alicia of
the wrapping that was on the small and special package John gave her in their
book.
“It’s a picnic basket,”
John exclaims after opening it. “And it’s stocked with silverware, wine
glasses, plates, and cups. This is much nicer than the one I have. It will be
perfect for our next picnic on Cove Point, Ali.”
There was one last gift
under the tree. It was small and wrapped in silver. Alicia opens it wondering
what Debbie would’ve given her main character for Christmas. Inside is a
delicate silver necklace at the end of which is a locket. There’s room for a
photo on one side that opens with a twist of its tiny latch. On the other side
are some engraved words. “The serenity prayer,” Alicia acknowledges. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the
things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the
wisdom to know the difference,” she recites.
“I
know why Debbie gave you that,” John says. “But we want to leave a few
surprises for our readers.”
“Is it
time to eat now?” Ramsay asks.
Alicia
takes a seat at the table. Glancing around at her fellow characters, she says,
“Detective Ramsay, I think it’s time to wish our readers a very happy holiday and
hope that they enjoy the parts we play in “A Stone’s Throw.”
Limitless
Publishing http://limitlesspublishing.net
Debbie
De Louise: author blog: https://debbiedelouise.wordpress.com
Giveaway Time!!!
thanks for the offers and the great books
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