Christmas Spirits (Reaper Reborn), page 1
Contents
Reaper Reborn
Praise
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Also by Harper A. Brooks
Copyright © Harper Brooks
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
Editor: Amalie Editorial
Cover Design: Yocla Book Cover Designs
Formatting: Red Umbrella Graphic Designs
REAPER REBORN SERIES
Afterlife
(A Prequel)
Death Wish
Death Trap
Death Match
Death Deals
Death Sentence
Till Death
Christmas Spirits
(A Holiday Novella)
Halfling For Hire
(Short Story Collection)
“Harper Brooks has built a world, and characters, that suck you right in and holds you tight for the twisting roller-coaster ride of your life. This book is not easily put down, and I’m champing at the bit for the next installment in a series.”- Amazon Review
“Fun and easy to read, it is action packed, exciting, has lots of drama and unpredictable twists that the reader's interest is caught from the very beginning. The story is intricately woven in a way that the reader cannot predict what happens next or how it will happen.
Recommended!” – Amazon Review
“Action packed from start to finish, Death Trap: Reaper Reborn is one heck of a ride! Jade is one tough cookie, determined to uncover the ultimate truth of who and what she was/is. The twists, the turns, the upside is down and what's right is wrong will leave your head spinning! Can't WAIT to see what happens next!” – Amazon Review
“The fast pace Miss Brooks set in the first… keeps you on the wild ride of Jade’s after-life and ensures you remain belted in. Can’t wait for more in this Series. Solid and well earned 5 stars.” – Amazon Review
“I had to slow down my reading as was almost skimming to see what would happen next at times as things ramp up towards the end and then it ends… I can not wait to see what happens next as its going to be one hell of a ride because Jade is involved!!” – Amazon Review
“By close to the end, I was frantically “turning” the pages to see what was going to happen. And, boom, it hit. What did? Read it to find out; this book was fabulous, and now I don’t know how I’m going to be able to wait for the next one! Very highly recommend!” – Amazon Review
“Riveting! You won’t be able to put this one down! I read it through in one sitting, careening from one crisis to the next. The finale blew me away! Can’t WAIT to see what Jade Blackwell does next!” – Amazon Review
“So much is happening in this book. I mean a lot! I felt like a twist was coming... coming... right there...AND BAM! It was NOTHING I was guessing it was. IT WAS MORE! Again, consistency in the world she’s built, and the characters she’s shaping, leads Ms. Brooks straight to another 5 star read!” – Amazon Review
For my mom,
who managed to somehow make every Christmas special
and full of happy memories.
Now, that I’m older and have the responsibility
of spreading Christmas cheer for my own family,
all I have to say is:
Falalalala—f*ck my life.
A three-tiered cake. Two dozen sugar cookies shaped like Santa. A gingerbread house complete with a four-piece gingerbread family. White chocolate peppermint cupcakes. And to top it all off, Grandma Abigail’s famous and addictive toffee pudding.
I checked off my mental list as I looked over the vast spread on the dessert table. The Harris family really outdid themselves for a yearly Holiday ugly sweater party, but I wasn’t complaining. This was my first step into the catering world and expanding my business, so I was happy they’d chosen me and Oh! Kay’s Pastries for their event.
It’d taken me almost three days of prep work alone, a few weeks of organizing and filling the orders, and a sleepless night or two of frosting, baking, and decorating, but I was happy how it all came out. I was sure once the guests all finished their dinner and wandered into the kitchen for a late-night treat with their coffees and hot cocoas, they’d find the desserts tasted even better than they looked. And that was saying something.
Baking was one of the only constants in my life. Well, besides my ability to see dead people—but that talent of mine usually led to chaos. Especially lately. But baking, using the recipes my grandmother taught me, only brought on smiles and full stomachs. There was nothing dangerous about that.
“Kay.” Laurence popped his head through the back door. Bitter cold air rushed into the kitchen, cooling the oppressive humidity pressing against me. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose like he usually did when nervous, and I smiled at the reflex. “Is there anything else you need to bring in from the van?”
“I think I have everything,” I said, “but thank you.”
He glanced at the table, lips lifting in their typical goofy way. “It looks good.” He inhaled, his shoulders raising to emphasize the action. “And smells amazing.”
“Hopefully Mrs. Harris thinks so, too,” I replied.
“She will.” He looked at his phone, and his smile fell. “Oh, shoot. It’s almost ten…”
My heart skipped. Oh no. We’d told Arianna—the young witch from Divine Magic, Laurence’s magic coach, and now our babysitter—that’d we’d be home at nine-thirty at the latest. But I couldn’t leave yet, I still needed to find Mrs. Harris, make sure she was happy with my set up, and get our invoice settled. That money was going right into the down payment of a business van for transporting and deliveries. The rental we had tonight cost way too much to use permanently.
“You can go home,” I told him and wiped my powdered-sugar-covered hands on my yellow apron. “I’ll finish up here and walk back.”
The shop and my apartment weren’t too far from here. Maybe six blocks, give or take.
As expected, Laurence shook his head so adamantly I was surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. “I don’t want you walking in the cold. Or at night.”
He didn’t need to say much more than that. I understood his concern all too well. It wasn’t long ago that I’d been kidnapped by a demon and almost dragged to Hell, so his fear made sense. There were times even I had trouble sleeping—the nightmares that had followed had been horrifying—but as time went by, things became easier. It’d been months ago, after all, and I had too many things happening in my life to be stuck in that dark mindset. All good things. My shop was open again and I was expanding, and of course, there was Zach. Laurence was learning more with Arianna’s private lessons than he could have ever done studying alone. The leveling test was in a few days, and I truly believed he’d pass this time and become a level two.
When I focused on the blessings in my life, it became easier to get over all the fears and anxieties. As an extra precaution, though, I made sure to wear my grandmother’s rosary around my neck at all times. Not only to keep the grounding memory of her close, but also as a quick way to contact Elijah, Jade’s guardian angel, just in case I needed him.
Being a Medium was hard enough, but it was a crazy I’d grown up with. It had taken me a bit to figure out, but now I could handle it. That crazy became my normal. I couldn’t escape that part, but in regard to demons, Hell, and any other chaos Jade was experiencing right now, I didn’t think I could handle it. With Laurence and now my son, Zach, I wanted a sense of normalcy back in my life. Needed it. At least as normal as could get for me. My dream job, a loving guy, a family… I was on the right track now.
I wasn’t asking for too much, was I?
I didn’t think so, anyway.
“I can manage a walk home,” I said, lifting my chin and forcing confidence in my voice. “The shop’s not that far from here.”
Laurence said nothing for a moment, but worry and uncertainty hovered in his gaze. At first, I thought he might insist waiting for me, but instead of arguing, he sighed. “Alright, if you’re sure.”
I smiled. He knew I needed this. As simple as it was. “Go ahead. Go get our baby. I’m just going to get everything all squared away with Mrs. Harris, and I’ll head out. Twenty minutes at the most.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” He stepped further into the room and pressed a kiss against my cheek before leaving again. The moment the door closed behind him, the cool air coming in from outside cut off abruptly. The heat of the room wrapped around me again, making me wish I hadn’t worn such a thick, knitted blouse tonight.
A woman strolled into the kitchen. Dressed for the party’s theme, she wore a blue sweater with an image of Jesus in a birthday hat and the words “Birthday Boy” scrolled across the neckline. Her hair was pinned and strung up with tinsel streamers.
“Mrs. Harris?” I almost hadn’t recognized her in the elaborate outfit.
She grinned and held out her arms, presenting herself. “Kay! It’s me under all this! Can you believe it?” She laughed at herself. “I really want to win the contest this year. Can you tell?”
Nodding my answer to her question, I found myself imagining the look on my grandmother’s face if she had been here to see Mrs. Harris’s festive ensemble. She would either storm out of the party or chase the woman down with her shoe in hand, threatening to beat the Holy Spirit into her.
Grandmother Abigail could be sweet as pie, but there were two things you never messed with—her recipes and her religion.
I clutched the cross at the end of the rosary around my neck, wishing that maybe this would be the time she would appeare to me. Most of the time, I had to beg spirits to leave me alone. Jade had been my haunt-wrangler and helped me out that way, but for some reason, my own grandmother had never come to me. And she was the one I wanted to talk to the most.
Maybe I should have asked Jade to find her for me on the other side. Have Jade ask her to cross over and visit, if that was even possible. But something told me that if I couldn’t see her, there was a reason for it. That didn’t mean I liked it, though.
“Ooh!” Mrs. Harris spotted the vast assortment of goodies I’d laid out on the table, and rubbed her hands together. “Everything looks delightful. I’m gaining twenty pounds just looking at it all. Good thing I’m wearing my stretchy pants!”
She laughed again, and I chuckled along with her. It’s all things I usually heard in the store when people debated what to buy. That, along with the occasional, “How do you stay so thin? I’d be five hundred pounds if I worked here.”
I didn’t mind, really. People said the dangedest things when indulging in their guilty pleasures. I, on the other hand, didn’t see a reason for excuses. I mean, who didn’t love chocolate and dessert? Why be ashamed of it?
“I have to say, Kay, you really outdid yourself. It looks amazing,” she continued to gush, leaning in closer to the plate of cookies. She snatched one and finished off half of it in one bite. As she chewed, her eyes rolled back and she moaned loudly. “Oh my God!” She covered her mouth as she kept chewing. “These are to die for!”
Pride filled my chest and I grinned. This was always my favorite part—when customers took their first bite and the look of pure joy passed over their face. Seeing them enjoy my cooking—Grandma Abigail’s cooking—made it feel like she was with me again and we were baking in her kitchen.
“I’m glad you like them,” I said.
“Like them? Kay, I’m hooked! I may just have to take this tray of cookies and hide them just for myself.” She laughed again, but the way she eyed the stack of sugar cookies and grabbed another told me it was an idea she was really considering.
As she nibbled on her cookie, she strolled across the kitchen, opened one of the top cabinets, and pulled out a white envelope. When she came back, she handed it over to me.
“Here you are, dear. I hope cash is fine,” she said, and I nodded.
“Of course.” Most business owners preferred cash transactions. Less of a chance of a bounced check or credit card chargeback. I began to open the envelope to get a peek at the amount inside. I didn’t want to be rude and make it look like I didn’t trust Mrs. Harris to give me the right amount, but I didn’t want to be shorted either. When I thumbed through the money and saw ten crisp hundred dollar bills, I almost gasped out loud.
That was over four hundred dollars more than I had quoted her for.
I quickly closed the envelope again, feeling all the heat that had been clinging to my body rush to my cheeks. That could definitely be a solid start to a company van’s down payment, but I couldn’t accept it. Not when I had promised her a job that was so much less…
She grabbed another cookie the second she swallowed her last one.
“Mrs. Harris… You g-gave me too much,” I stammered, passing the money back to her, but she waved her hand at me.
“It was done on purpose. You’re the one who helped me out in such a pinch. It was the least I could do.”
Still unsure what to do, I hesitated and continued to hold the envelope of money between us.
Seeing my discomfort, she smiled. “Think of it as a tip. Or a gift, whichever you like. But it’s yours.” Then she took three more cookies from the tray. “You deserve it.”
In the adjoining room, the music changed to the more upbeat song, “Jingle Bell Rock,” and Mrs. Harris squealed with excitement. “Would you like to stay? We’re going to sing our favorite Christmas songs on the karaoke machine. Looks like I’m up first.”
“Thank you, but I really have to get back and get the shop ready for the morning,” I replied.
She bit into another cookie and hurried to the doorway. “Don’t work too hard, now! Oh, and Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” I called out to her, but she was gone before the words left my mouth. I glanced down at the money again, a bit stunned. I had been hoping this job would get me more customers through Mrs. Harris’s word of mouth. I definitely hadn’t expected a four-hundred-dollar tip.
Putting the envelope safely into my apron pocket, I pulled out a couple of my business cards and put them on the dessert table. Then, I grabbed my heavy coat, hat, and scarf off the back of a chair, and put on my winter layers.
The moment I stepped outside into the biting cold, I missed the oppressive heat of the kitchen. I debated calling Laurence and telling him about Mrs. Harris’s kindness, but knowing it was so late and that he was probably trying to get Zach to sleep for the night, I decided against it. I’d let him know the good news when I got home. Maybe tomorrow we could even check out some used car dealerships after the shop closed.
Excitement began to bubble up inside me as I started down the sidewalk, back toward Oh! Kay’s. Maybe I could do this. I’d be spreading myself thin for a few months—maybe a year—with running the store and handling the catering on weekends, but it’d be worth it. Who knows. Maybe I’d be able to hire some more employees to help out soon, too. Then weddings, a brand, my desserts stocked on grocery store shelves, and vacations. Lots and lots of vacations. That was the goal, anyway.
I didn’t remember what not working felt like. I’d been on the go…well, pretty much forever. Taking a break wasn’t really in my DNA. At least, it’d been ingrained into it ever since my grandmother was given sole custody of me and my siblings. She worked a tight ship, but while my older brother and my younger sister rebelled, I wanted nothing more than to make her proud.
Grandma Abigail was a Medium, too. And since my sister and brother didn’t share the gift, I got most of her attention. And most of her strictness and rules.
Don’t get me wrong. Growing up with Grandma Abigail wasn’t easy. She was a strong, no-nonsense kind of woman who clung tightly to her traditions, her culture, and her religion. But she was all I had since our mother was…unable to care for us, and I cherished her teachings.
Of course, it was always easier to appreciate someone when they’re gone or when you’re older, but my grandmother’s toughness and hard lessons made me the woman I was today. And there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about her.
Crossing my arms across my chest to keep some of my body heat in as I walked, I thanked our luck that it’d been a rather warm winter. Wet and still bitter cold, but warmer than usual. Because of our closeness to the coast, most of our potential snowstorms had turned to rain.
I wasn’t complaining. While most people were praying for a white Christmas, I’d be okay with skipping the snow and ice part of it. One, because it slowed down business, and two, because I always managed to slip on the hidden ice patches and bruise my bum. Ever since last year’s spill down my apartment’s steps, I was okay skipping something like that again.
