A Witchin' Winter's Night Read online

  Table of Contents

  A WITCHIN’ WINTER’S NIGHT

  EDITION LICENSE NOTES

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  DEDICATION

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A WITCHIN’ WINTER’S NIGHT

  By

  Isabel Micheals

  EDITION LICENSE NOTES

  Copyright © 2018 by Isabel Micheals

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

  Cover by Blackraven’s Designs

  Edited by Blackraven’s Designs

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to thank my good friend Deb S., who always listens to my crazy ideas in the eleventh hour and reaffirms that I haven’t lost my ever-loving mind. Thanks for being there.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to every reader who’s been brave enough to venture out in this crazy world to do last minute shopping on Christmas Eve. I hope you enjoy A Witchin’ Winter’s Night as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Have a Happy New Year!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Cecelia loves Christmas. It’s her favorite holiday of all time. Maybe, it’s because she spends the majority of her year as a necromancer reviving the dead. Or, maybe it’s because the Fates misunderstood her true destiny. Either way, she refuses to dwell on the present or the past. Instead, she simply hosts the best Christmas Eve party her friends have ever seen.

  Scroogess Ebesneezer is the new Christmas Witch in town. She has a score to settle with three meddling witches who have been a thorn in her side since the day they met. When she discovers they’ve been abusing their powers, she decides to exact her revenge.

  The challenge is simple. Shop with the humans on Christmas Eve without using their magic. Or, spend the next five-to-ten years in the pokey as retribution for their crimes.

  There’s only one problem. It seems as though Scroogess has been harboring a secret of her own. When Cecelia, Symone, and Camille uncover it—it’s game on.

  Warning: A Witchin’ Winter’s Night involves a Sugar Plum Fairy who’s Christmas crazy. Two witches ready to do battle in Wally World. And, three ghosts determined to help a witch find the Spirit of Christmas.

  Note from the Author:

  A Witchin’ Winter’s Night is the crossover book in my Magick & Chaos series. It takes place between Witchin’ Up A Spell and Witchin’ Up The Dead. You’ll get to meet Cecelia again in Witchin’ Up The Dead, as well as her best friends Symone and Camille.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cecilia had waited an entire year for this night. She couldn’t believe it was finally Christmas Eve. Her favorite night of the year simply because it was always wonderful reconnecting with her best friends, Symone and Camille. Although she was born a witch, Christmas was her favorite holiday. Maybe, it was because there were times her job as a necromancer could have some real Debby Downer moments. Yes, she still experienced overwhelming joy when two loved ones were reunited because it wasn’t his or her time. But lately, she had been getting some weird requests. Like the guy who wanted to bring back his pet crocodile, so he could murder his wife and feed her to the beast. Um... Not only no, but hell no. Then, there was the woman who wanted to only revive her husband's penis. Not her husband, but his penis because she wanted to take one more spin on his poll. Yeah, not happening in this lifetime or the next.

  It didn’t matter how spooky she made the front of her house look, they just kept on coming. You would think a Zombie’s hand rising up out of a grave would deter them a little. She definitely needed to reconsider Symone and Camille’s suggestion and get rid of the candy. Now that she had gained some distance from the situation, it did seem more inviting than scary. She’d have to work on that after Christmas.

  But that was neither here nor there because it was Christmas Eve. The air was filled with hope and Christmas cheer. No one was begging her to bring back a loved one from the dead tonight—at least not yet. Even though she had heard it all over the years, there always seemed to be one person who managed to surprise her with their over the top request. It wasn’t always easy being a necromancer, especially during Halloween. But like every other witch in the world, she had accepted her gift and rolled with the punches. It just seemed lately, the punches were coming faster and harder, which made it difficult to catch her breath at times.

  However, tonight, she wouldn’t dwell on the past or the dead because once again it was Christmas Eve. A time of hope, joy, and magic. A night where anything was possible. She had been planning all year and couldn’t wait to see her friends’ faces when she told them what she had in store for them tonight. She just hoped they would be as excited as she was, which was saying a lot because she was pretty darn excited.

  She had already conjured up the perfect Blue Spruce Christmas tree that was currently sitting in front of her bay window waiting to be decorated. She had decided to go with a new Christmas tree theme this year, which incidentally coordinated with her favorite Christmas ballet, “The Nutcracker”. If she were being honest, she had always been infatuated with the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was just something about the character that was so majestic.

  While most people decorated earlier for Christmas, like before Halloween and definitely after Thanksgiving, she still preferred to wait until Christmas Eve. Not only did it make the moment feel more special, but also less commercialized. Although she looked thirty, she was much older and remembered when Christmas was more about the love for one another and the time spent together than the presents. Unfortunately, things change over the centuries and it made her a little sad to admit that she too had fallen down the rabbit hole of receiving, or in her case, conjuring up materialistic gifts. Yet, with every holiday came a renewed sense of hope that she would get back to the true Spirit of Christmas.

  Before Cecelia could finish her musings, the doorbell rang. Swinging open the heavy, mahogany door decorated with a wreath the size of Manhattan, she screamed at the top of her lungs with joy when she saw her two best friends standing on her front porch. Quickly hugging them, she smiled and said, “Come in. I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

  Symone looked gorgeous in a short, red, sequined dress with white faux fur at the top accentuating her voluptuous breasts. She had a matching red, sequined Santa hat, and a killer pair of red Gucci leather knee-high boots with faux fur. Her boots had a four-inch heel that would have made any Fashionista proud. Her short black hair framed her beautiful mocha face and to finish off her ensemble, she wore long black gloves that went up to her elbows. There was only one difference between them and the ones Marilyn Monroe would have worn back in her hay day. Her friend had cut off the hand part of each glove.

  Camille was e
qually as gorgeous going with the quintessential fifties pin-up girl look. She wore a long, black Vera Wang evening gown that accentuated every curve on her body. Like Symone, the top of her dress was decorated with white, faux fur and accentuated her voluptuous bosom. Although her shoulders were bare, she had ramped up the elegance of the dress by adding black sleeves with white, faux fur that started just below her shoulder and extended down to her wrists. They were sleeves that could easily be removed. The fifties black hat with a large red and white stripe looked like something the airline stewardesses would have worn decades ago. To top off the look, she sported a sexy, red pair of Manolo Blahniks that had Cecelia salivating at the mouth. Goddess, she loved expensive shoes.

  She wasn’t dressed to shabby either, even if she did say so herself. She had elected to wear a simple, yet elegant, above the knee black Coco Chanel mini dress that was accented with white, faux fur at the bottom, as well as around the wrists and neck. She complimented the outfit with matching black tights, red, Gucci ankle boots, and a swooping red and white hat that brought her fiery, red hair to life. To say they all looked fabulous was an understatement. There was no doubt in Cecelia’s mind that an outsider looking at them would have assumed they had just walked off the runway because that’s how gorgeous they looked tonight.

  “Girlfriend, you look amazing,” Symone exclaimed. Hugging her again.

  “So do you. I love the dress. Maybe you’ll let me borrow it sometime?” Cecelia asked with a hopeful plea.

  “Only if you’re good and finally agree to go out on a date with that hunk of burning love, Dillen,” Symone replied with a knowing smirk.

  “Don’t start! I told you there’s nothing between Dillen and I,” Cecelia quickly denied.

  “Honey, if you’re describing the sparks that go off between you two like the Fourth of July every time you’re in a room together as nothing, then you’re right. There’s nothing going on between you,” Camille said, sarcastically.

  “Exactly! That’s what I’m talking about,” Symone agreed, with a shit eating grin that made Cecelia want to smack her.

  “Focus ladies!” Cecelia demanded. “Tonight is not about Dillen. It’s about decorating, shopping, binge watching Christmas movies, and celebrating the Spirit of the Season—together. So quit trying to derail me.”

  “Fine, but we’re not letting this go,” Symone and Camille grumbled simultaneously.

  “Now, who wants to know what I have planned for tonight?” Cecelia asked with glee in her voice. Bouncing up and down on her Gucci ankle boots, she could no longer contain her excitement. “Okay ladies, I know we normally shop until we drop—literally, stuff ourselves with Christmas goodies, and then binge watch Christmas movies, which you know is the highlight of my evening. But, I thought tonight, we’d try something a little different. You know, switch things up a bit.”

  “Should we be afraid?” Symone asked skeptically.

  “Good question,” Camille chimed in, as a tinge of fear appeared in her sparkling, green eyes. “She does have a fanatical gleam in those fiery, green eyes.”

  “Oh pipe down! I haven’t fallen off my rocker. Yet,” Cecelia countered. “I just thought it would be fun if we tried something new this year. Besides, we’re adventurous women and it’s about time we had a change in our routine.”

  “How much of a change are we talking about?” Camille asked with a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t done something crazy like gotten rid of the sugar cookies, have you? You know how much I love your homemade sugar cookies. In fact, I wait for them all year round. I swear the Fates missed their calling when it came to you. Instead of saddling you with the job of necromancer, you should have been a baker. You could have had a cute little shop on Main Street that was constantly full of eager, paying customers, and I could have scooped up all of the leftovers, of course.“

  “Of course,” Cecelia said in a dry, sarcastic voice.

  “Hey, it could’ve been a beautiful dream. Well, at least for me anyway. Just think about it. If you had taken up baking, there would have been no need to avoid Dillen the way you have over the last couple of years.”

  Sighing heavily, Cecelia rolled her eyes and in a warning tone said, “Camille, let it go. I told you, we are not a match made by the Fates. I’m a necromancer, he’s a shifter, and never the two shall meet. I don’t know why you keep harping on this.”

  “How do you know what the Fates have in store for you?” Symone asked. “You keep telling us to let it go, but every time you see the man, it’s obvious you haven’t let anything go. The heat emanating between you two could set a building on fire. I’m with Camille, I don’t understand why you just don’t give the man a chance. What could go wrong?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Everything? You guys make it sound like it’s so easy, but it’s not. Yes, I might find Dillen interesting. I’ll also admit that he’s somewhat attractive, and I might have had a few naughty dreams with him replacing my sex toy—Roger the Rabbit. Um… I--I meant replacing the main character in my naughty dreams, but that’s beside the point. I bring the dead back to life, and when men usually discover that’s my healing power, they run for the hills,” Cecelia huffed.

  “Honey, just in case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t any hills around here for miles. So, I don’t know where these men have been running, but I assure you it was not for the hills. Maybe you’ve just been picking the wrong man, as evidenced by the fact that you’re not dating Dillen. Oh, and kudos on the sex toy. Glad you finally took our advice and visited the Triple XXX store on the outskirts of town,” Symone said with a mischievous grin and wink.

  “I must agree with her on this one, but you should really think about giving your boy toy a name. It makes the dirty deed feel more personal. You know what I mean? Maybe you could call him Mr. Feel Good. Or, Mr. Bob. Maybe, the Pleasure Monster. Ooh, I got it. Peter Cottontail. You know… because of his bunny ears,” Camille chuckled, as she admired her new fingernail polish. She had chosen a stunning red that matched her cute hat. It was a deep, sensual color that made her feel sexy on the inside, as well as sexy on the outside. She could have totally been a fifties pin up girl back in the day. It also allowed her to ignore the crazy, concerned looks her friends were sending her way.

  “Enough about Dillen already. I’m trying to tell you what we’re going to do tonight for fun. Let’s get our Christmas cheer on and leave the men at the door,” Cecelia demanded.

  “You meant man, right? Because the only man we’ve been talking about is Dillen, which is why you’re so eager to change the subject,” Symone said with a knowing smirk.

  “Not another word, ladies. I mean it, or it’s no cookies for you and no shopping for you,” Cecelia informed her two best friends with a knowing look of her own.

  “Fine,” Camille and Symone replied simultaneously. It was obvious they were exasperated with her reluctance to discuss Dillen, who was hotter than sin and perfect for her. They knew without a doubt that once she was willing to put her heart on the line, Dillen would be there to protect her with everything in his being. The King was an honorable man if nothing else. Yeah, he had dated other women over the years, but he wasn’t a manwhore like some of the Shifters in Bass Ackwards. Nope, he was a King who needed a Queen and their best friend met all of his requirements and then some.

  “Okay, lay it on us. What did you have in mind for tonight?” Camille begrudgingly asked. Mainly, because she wanted to finish their discussion about Dillen and somehow convince her best friend to give the man a chance. What better night to wish for a miracle than Christmas Eve for Goddess’ sake.

  Once again jumping up and down with glee, Cecelia said, “I’m glad you asked. I thought instead of watching “The Nutcracker” tonight like we always do every year, instead, we could reenact it. Of course, I would be the Sugar Plum Fairy and Symone would play Claire.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Camille asked.

  “Well, since you’re so statuesque, I thought you could play the male le
ads and twirl us both around,” Cecelia replied, hesitantly.

  “Are you implying that I’m fat?” Camille exclaimed. “Because honey, I assure you, I am many things, but fat is not one of them. This body is perfect. I’m lean yet voluptuous in all the right places and men absolutely drool over me. You know it, and I know it,” Camille said with conviction and a death glare that would have put the fear in the Goddess.

  “No, sweetheart. That’s not what I was implying,” Cecelia said in a soothing voice, as if she were trying to coo a cranky baby sleep, or a mountain lion hungry for his next kill. “It’s just that since you’re so tall and strong, I thought it would be easier for you to twirl us around given our petite size.”

  Hands on hips and fuming at the mouth, Camille said, “So, you are calling me fat. I thought we were friends. I thought you were better than this. How could you, CeCe?”

  Exhausted by the conversation and frustrated to no end, Cecelia placed her hands on her hips and in a firm voice said, “Listen up. You. Are. Not. Fat. I never want to hear you say that again. Since you are so tall, I thought it would be easier for you to twirl us around. It’s as simple as that. No ulterior motives. No judging or stereotyping. Besides, I could care less about how much you weigh, especially considering we can’t gain weight as witches,” Cecelia explained.

  Symone knew she should have chimed in and tried to de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand, but this was the most fun she’d had all night. She had conjured up a chair, a can of flavored popcorn—caramel, butter, and toffee—and a huge mug of hot chocolate that included a touch of cinnamon, peppermint, and marshmallows. It was absolutely delicious. Almost as delicious as the drama unfolding before her very eyes.