Tag Archives: Christmas

Guest Author Juli D. Revezzo Talks Paranormal Christmas!

Today I welcome author Juli D. Revezzo as she shares the inspiration behind her latest paranormal holiday release, Murder Upon a Midnight Clear. Enjoy! ~ S.G. Rogers

ornament29There are various points in the year where it’s said the veil between the worlds is thinnest. Halloween (AKA Samhain) is probably the most famous one. Others are May day, what about Christmas? Christmas is the day tradition says Jesus Christ transmogrified from pure spirit to human flesh and blood. What of other spirits? If they aren’t able to take on human flesh, as we know they’re not, why could they not roam free in their ghostly bodies?

Many writers of the past have tackled that idea. Some classic, some modern. In classic authors, you know the one I’m speaking of: Charles Dickens and his “A Christmas Carol”. Therein three spirits visit the living Ebenezer Scrooge to give him a warning.

Also, modern fantasy author Charles de Lint in his story “Pal o’ Mine” has a character who believes that “at midnight, animals sang to Jesus.”

So Christmas is a time of Joy, could it also be a time for all manner of paranormal stuff to happen? This idea played in my head and worked its way into my new story, a paranormal romantic suspense entitled Murder upon a Midnight Clear. Herein Detective Helene Collias has the power to see ghosts, hear them and understand thmurderuponcoverneg500em. If she can solve the mystery of their murders is the quandary she ultimately faces, however. Especially this Christmas when she’s called in to investigate the murder of her old flame’s sister.

What are these ghosts telling Helene about this Murder upon a Midnight Clear? Love is one answer…the rest, the solution to the mystery, would take a little longer to explain. Besides, I think I’ll let you discover it yourself.  While I go back to gearing up for a visit from hopefully nothing but spirits of good Christmas cheer, I hope you’ll check out Murder upon a Midnight Clear.

Blurb:

‘Tis the season … for death.

Murder reminds Detective Helen Collias of Holly PD that crime doesn’t respect holidays. And the last victim she ever expected to find in her case files is the sister of her old flame, Sean Grant. Ordinarily, Helene’s psychic gifts give her an edge but this time, that gift has short-circuited. Could her lingering attraction to Sean be blurring her abilities, or is something more sinister at work?

Excerpt:

Midnight.

The small casket appeared on the bed beside her. The child lay inside, his eyes closed, peaceful, yet Helene’s heart hammered in her throat. He turned his head. Blood poured from his mouth and bruises bloomed fresh on his skin. The casket stood on end; the boy’s body fell out, flopped to the edge of a riverbank, and rolled to her side. Helene shivered. Her skin chaffed against the dank, muddy grass on which they lay. He opened his eyes. “Help me, Auntie Helene.”

Blood continued to drain from the boy’s ruined body, so much it finally pooled on her floor. Helene pushed out of her bed and crossed to her dresser. The blood writhed and wiggled after her. Helene tried to get away but the red muck sloshed over her bare feet.

The child reached short, fat arms out to her. “Tell him to leave me alone, Auntie Helene.”

She sat up, heaving and gasping for air. Sweat slicked her skin. She blinked at the dark room, her empty bed, and clean floor. Her head ached and she rubbed at her temples, shuddering. “Jesus, Hara, get out of there!”

All these years and you still have the damned nightmares. Why?

Hadn’t she done all she could to appease his ghost? Everything but specialize in crimes against children.

If you’d like to read more the book is available for Kindle at Amazon.

For more on me and further glimpses into my work, please see my blog HERE. I’m also on Facebook, G+, Pinterest, and Twitter

Thank you, Suzanne, for hosting me.  And to you, and my readers, I hope you all have a lovely holiday!

dreamstimefree_179256
© Ximagination | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Finding the Spirit of Christmas – Flash Fiction

Man in Suit © Rolffimages | Dreamstime.comAs an increasingly heavy snow shower drifted down over the wintry country landscape, the dark outline of a rectangular-shaped portal formed.  A well-dressed man stepped through the blackness, promptly skidded on a patch of ice and landed in a deep snowdrift. The man pushed himself upright, dismayed to find the moist snow clinging to his face and expensive clothes.  He glanced back at the portal, but it had disappeared.

“What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere, dressed like that?” a voice rang out.

The man wiped crystals from his eyelashes so he could see.   A very pretty woman stood on a path nearby, bundled against the cold.

“Um…I’m looking for something,” he said.

“In the snow?”

“No, er, that was an accident.”  He shivered.

“Well…you’d better come inside before you freeze.”

The woman whistled just then and a fluffy tan dog came bounding over.  The woman and dog began to walk toward a stone cottage on top of a hill, without looking back.  The man turned up his coat collar, hunched his shoulders and followed.

A few moments later he was grateful to be inside, where a fragrant fire was crackling in the fireplace and the smell of baking gingerbread made his mouth water.  The room was decorated for the holidays, with a cheerful evergreen garland hanging from the mantle.  A fat Christmas tree, twinkling with lights, filled the corner next to the window, and the dining table was covered with a festive cherry red cloth.

“Why don’t you hang your wet things by the door?” the woman suggested.

The man found a hook for his coat, but when the woman went into the kitchen to check on the gingerbread, he used a spell to dry himself off.  Nevertheless, his feet were icy cold, so he removed his shoes and sat next to the fire.  The dog trotted over to curl up at his feet.  The woman came out of the kitchen.  She’d shed her outerwear and he finally got a good look at her.  She had snowy white skin with cheeks reddened by the cold, and her heart-shaped face was framed by waves of nutmeg colored curls.  He gulped.

“What’s your name, Detective?” she asked.

The man peered at her, startled.  “How did you—”

The woman laughed and pointed to the badge hanging from his belt.  “You’re a wizard detective.  I’ve heard of them before.”

“The name is Nick.”

“Okay, Nick, I’m Christine. The dog is called Joy.” She handed him a cup of cocoa and sat down on the raised hearth.  “So what are you looking for?”

“Ah…this is rather awkward, but the Spirit of Christmas has gone missing in my dimension. Our best wizards discovered a breach in the energy barrier…it’s kind of technical.  Anyway, I’m here to find it.” He sipped the cocoa, savoring the rich flavor.

Christine frowned.  “What does this Spirit look like?”

“It can take different shapes.”

“Wow.  I guess you have your work cut out for you.  Let me get you some gingerbread.”

“That would be great,” Nick said.  “This cocoa is really delicious, by the way.”

A few minutes later, Christine and Nick were sharing a slice of the fresh, warm cake.  Nick balanced his plate on his knee. “Mmm.  This brings back good memories.”

Christine put down her fork.  “Once you find the Spirit, what happens next?”

“I ask her to come home.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to go?  What if she’s tired of being neglected?” A sudden surge of emotion made Christine’s eyes sparkle.

Nick set his plate aside and pulled her to her feet. “Come home.”  He wrapped her in his arms. “Things haven’t been the same since you left.  I intend to love, honor and keep you in my heart forever, just like the day we were married.”

She looked into his handsome face.  “You had to work hard to find me.  I’m impressed.” A smile tugged at her lips.

“I went to every dimension on the map, but I never gave up.” Nick gave Christine a long, romantic kiss.  “Tell me you’ll come home? Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

Christine returned the kiss. “I’m afraid we’re snowed in tonight.”

“That’s too bad,” Nick said…but the twinkle in his eye said otherwise.  At the same time, Joy’s tail wagged.

~ S.G. Rogers

Christmas Fairy-tale © Frenta | Dreamstime.com

Written For Christmas – Flash Fiction

To kick off the holiday season, here is a reprise of a flash fiction story I wrote last year.  Enjoy!  ~ S.G. Rogers

Written for Christmas

by S.G. Rogers

Diva hesitated a moment before pulling the gift-wrap from Lorelei’s Larceny.  As she gazed at the author photo on the dust jacket, the corners of her mouth turned up in a wistful smile.  The lights on the Christmas tree in the corner winked at her and the window beyond revealed a light snow flurry falling outside. She turned the novel over in her hands, wondering if she should brave the elements to walk to the corner coffeehouse.  While nursing a couple of peppermint mochas, she could make a pretty good dent in the book.  Besides which, she didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve alone.

“I can’t believe you opened that now,” Captain Westerly scolded. “Didn’t you promise Brandon Forster you’d wait until Christmas?”

Diva’s eyes slid over to the miniature pirate as he emerged from the pages of her recently released romance novel, Captain Westerly’s Conquest. The book rested on the table in front of the sofa, next to a Yule candle. “Nobody asked you,” she said.  “And besides, Brandon won’t know.”

The dashing captain tilted his head as he examined the dust jacket.  “Hey, he resembles me…or perhaps I resemble him.”

A crease of annoyance marred Diva’s brow.  “Do you have to leap off the page like that?  It’s kind of disconcerting.”

“It’s the way you wrote me, my lady,” Westerly said, with a courtly bow. “Why didn’t you give Brandon a copy of my book?  I mean, your book.  He would have enjoyed Captain Westerly’s Conquest.”

“Are you kidding?  He’s a man.  Men don’t read romance,” Diva said.

“I don’t see why not? Brandon’s a handsome devil, even if I say so myself—secure in his masculinity.”

“And furthermore, we’re just friends.  There’s simply no way a man like him would be interested in me,” she finished.

Westerly stroked his chin, covered with manly stubble.  “I thought we were talking about books.”

“Behave, Captain, or your next story will involve a wife and kids.”

Her decision made, Diva launched herself off the sofa and disappeared into her bedroom.  A few moments later, she emerged with her coat and scarf in hand.  She stopped short, gaping, as Westerly helped a miniature cat burglar step out of the pages of Lorelei’s Larceny.  Clad in a sexy black unitard, the woman bore an uncanny resemblance to Diva.

“You look like me!” Diva exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“It’s the way Brandon Forster wrote me,” Lorelei replied, tossing her glossy sable locks over one shoulder.

Captain Westerly kissed Lorelei’s hand.  “Would you care for a tour of my ship, my lady?” he asked.  “We’ll toast the season with a glass of rum punch.”

Lorelei raised an eyebrow as she gave the pirate an appraising glance.  “Lead on.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t—” Diva began, but the two main characters disappeared into the pages of Captain Westerly’s Conquest without so much as a backward glance.

A knock on the apartment door caused Diva to blanch.  She draped her coat and scarf over a chair and went to answer it.   Brandon Forster stood there, clutching Captain Westerly’s Conquest.  “I hope you don’t mind me s-stopping by,” he stammered.  “I, um, had to tell you how much I loved your book.”

Diva’s mouth opened, but no sound would come out.  Brandon flushed pink and ran his fingers through his closely cropped hair. “I’m sorry, that was lame.  What I mean to say is…do you, er, want to get a cup of coffee?”

“I’d love some coffee,” she said with a slow smile.

Brandon let his breath out in a gust.  He glanced at the sprig of mistletoe hung over the door and returned her smile with one of his own.

“How did that get there?” she exclaimed, startled.

A distant foghorn sounded from the vicinity of Captain Westerly’s Conquest, on the table behind her.

“I don’t know, but who am I to buck tradition?” Brandon asked. He leaned forward, his lips hovering over hers.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, before she sealed it with a kiss.

~ S.G. Rogers