I.D. Johnson's Blog, page 3

New Author Promo Site from Genre Pulse

Perfect timing!
Just as I am preparing my blog post about the amazing promo I did about two weeks ago, one of the sites I used--one I only have fantastic things to say about--came out with a new service today. It's an Author Coupon site! They will list all the sites that have discounted promo services in one easy to use location. This is really huge, and I'm so happy it's from a promo site I already trust. James at Genre Pulse is great to work with.
Check it out and let me know what you think in the comments!

http://sociali.io/ref/H4152340

A Taste of Absolution

I know many of you have been waiting for Absolution, the fourth book in The Clandestine Saga, for over a year. I am working on it now, and my tentative release date is December 1st with pre-order available through Amazon on November 1st. More info on that to come soon. However, the tone will be a bit different in this one. I am hoping to make the Vampires a bit more terrifying.  Since it is almost Halloween, who isn't ready for a little scare? Here's an excerpt from Chapter Seven.  This is completely unedited! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Lightening illuminated the sky off in the distance, and thirteen year old Julia Cannon bolted upright in bed.  Looking out her bedroom window, she saw that the wind was picking up and a rumble of thunder confirmed her suspicion that it was about to storm.  She hated storms, always had, but was particularly frightened of them since a tornado had ripped through their neighborhood when she was ten, and while her own home was hardly touched, seeing many of her friends left homeless, one of them motherless, had been enough to make her anxious every time the skies looked threatening.Another boom, this one closer, made her jump. She looked at the time. It wasn’t quite one o’clock yet, which meant her mother probably wasn’t home yet.  She worked as a nurse in Tulsa, which at least twenty minutes away from their home in Catoosa on a good night, and now that it was raining, she probably wouldn’t be home for at least another half an hour.  Another crack of lighting sliced across the sky, and Julia pulled the covers up to her neck, closing her eyes for a moment, hoping that would somehow calm her nerves; it didn’t and the next peel of thunder sent her cowering beneath the sheets.A bellow of wind brought in the rain. Julia peered out from under the blanket just as a flash of lightening illuminated the sky and she could see the deluge coming down in sheets now.  A tree branch began to screech its way across the glass in her bedroom window, and though she could see the culprit each time the sky lit up, she couldn’t help but imagine, perhaps, it was something else; perhaps it was really the long sharp claw of a witch floating beneath that same scraggly old maple. The flashes began to illuminate the objects in her room as well, and as her eyes began to adjust from darkness to light, back into darkness again, she began to watch as the shadows in her room shifted and changed their forms. She blinked her eyes, holding them shut for a moment, assuring herself that her closet door was still firmly shut, that no one was sitting in her rocking chair across the room, that nothing had slithered beneath her bed.Finally, when she could stand the ravages of her imagination no more, she slid her hand out from beneath the bed and picked up her cell phone.  She quickly dialed her mother, and with each ring, her heartbeat increased. Eventually, her mother answered with a distracted, “Julia? What are you doing up?”“Sorry, Mama,” she whispered sharply. “The storm woke me up. I was wondering if… if you were about home.”The connection wasn’t good, the storm likely interfering with the signal.  “I’m driving home now, honey,” her mom reassured her. “But it’s raining pretty hard. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Now, go back to sleep. Okay?”“All right, Mama,” Julia agreed.  “Be careful.”“I will, sweetheart. See you in a bit. I love you,” her mother replied.Before Julia could respond, her mother ended the call, and she found herself forced back into utter aloneness, the storm still shaking her house and her soul.“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Julia assured herself aloud.  “It’s just a storm. There’s no tornadoes, or my mom would have said. And there’s no witches… or ghosts… or vampires.”With the last word, Julia heard a soft creaking sound from downstairs, followed by a shuffle, and then complete silence. Her heart stopped; was that her mother coming in the back door? Was it her imagination? Or was it… something else? She listened with her whole being, waiting to see if she heard footsteps on the stairs. If it had been her mother, she would have said something, since she knew Julia was still awake. And, if she had been so close to home, wouldn’t she have said she was about to pull into the driveway? No, it couldn’t have been her mother.  Perhaps, it had only been her imagination. She was scared--and jumpy.  Just then, she thought she heard another small creak from the living room, as if the floorboards were shifting under the weight of someone--or something. If it were a murderer, surely he would have made his way up the stairs by now. Her mind shot to the news she had heard today, about the Jogging Path Slayer in Philadelphia. Maybe he had made his way here, to Oklahoma, to her house. Maybe he had decided to start murdering young girls in their beds instead of joggers. Maybe she would be his next victim.She knew it all sounded ridiculous. Murderers didn’t just wait downstairs for you to come down so they could kill you. It was nothing; it had to be nothing. Still, she listened carefully for another sound.  She heard nothing, except for the boom of the thunder outside. Maybe she couldn’t hear him climbing the stairs because of the storm.  “You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered. “Are you a little girl or a woman? You’re old enough to stay home by yourself. Surely, you can go downstairs and make sure the house is still locked up.”She hesitated for a moment, wanting to hop out of bed and go alleviate her own fears, but she was still scared. Suddenly, there was a droaning noise, and her ceiling fan turned off. It came back to life for a split second, but then it went off again. The power was out.  Now, the terror began to well up inside of her again. Not only was she all alone, a storm raging outside, strange noises downstairs, she wouldn’t even be able to turn on the lights.  There was a flashlight downstairs; she knew exactly where her mother kept it, on top of the refrigerator. It was pretty powerful. If she could go get that, she might feel more at east until her mom got home. Of course, getting there would be horrifying.  She did have the flashlight on her phone, but it wasn’t very strong.  She took a deep breath. Her mom always said she should have a flashlight when the power went out in case something happened and she needed to go outside or someone came to the door to see if she was safe. With another deep breath, she slid out from under the covers and put her feet in her slippers.  She grabbed her robe, and hands shaking, slid it on, tying the belt tightly around her waist.“All right, Julia,” she whispered.  “Stop being a baby. You can do this.”She picked up her phone, trying to decide whether she should use the flashlight to make her way down the stairs or just leave it off. After all, if there were someone--or something--waiting for her downstairs, the flashlight would alert him that she was coming. If she left it off, she could be more stealthy, and maybe he wouldn’t know she was coming. If she saw him first, she could maybe get away or hide. Or wait for her mother to come home.Maybe she should wait for her mother to come home.“You’re such a baby,” she said, clutching her phone. For now, she left the light off. She knew her way down the stairs in the dark, and the flashes of lightning were enough to help her find landmarks along the way.With another deep breath, she pulled herself to her feet and willed herself to jump away from the bed so that no spindly hands could reach out from beneath and grab her ankles.  Of course, nothing happened, and she hurried past the closet and the rocking chair--was it moving?--and made her way out of her bedroom into the hallway.Their house was two story, but it wasn’t very big.  There were two bedrooms up here, hers and her mom’s, and then downstairs there was a living room, kitchen, a small parlor, and a dining room. The stairs led to the living room where the  front door was located. Her mom always pulled into the car port and used the back door. So there was absolutely no reason why the front door should be unlocked or disturbed in any way. From the top of the stairs, she peered down below, trying to ascertain whether or not it looked as if it had recently been opened; she couldn’t tell.  She approached the top of the stairs. Inhaling deeply, she put her foot down gently on the top step.  No creak.  After a moment, she slowly picked up her other foot and put it down on the next step. Again, not a sound.  Grasping the handrail to steady herself, she repeated the process, one step after the next, pausing each time the lightning and thunder shook her soul, and cautiously made her way down the stairs.  When she reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs, something brushed against her arm. Jumping, she flailed her arms out wildly, catching a branch of her mother’s ficus plant as she did so. Her heart pounding, she pressed her hands to her chest, still grasping her cell phone. “It’s just a plant,” she thought to herself, afraid to say anything out loud now.  It took her a few seconds to regain her composure.  Once she had calmed down just a bit, she slowly entered the living room.  She surveyed the room cautiously. Even with the help of the lightning, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  The sofa stood between her and the front door.  As she carefully stepped around it, she glanced back over her shoulder. She noticed then that the closet door was slightly ajar, which seemed odd. But as she turned to peer into the dark space about ten feet behind her, she didn’t see anything alarming.
It wasn’t until she returned her attention to the front door that something caught her attention.  She wasn’t sure what it was at first. Holding her breath, and feeling her heart stop mid-beat, she slowly took a step forward, squinting in disbelief as she attempted to confirm that what her eyes were seeing was really there.  She took another step forward, and then, she was certain. There, in the glass of the front door, she could clearly see a face. But this was no ordinary human face. This was something else entirely.  The skin was so pale, it was practically glowing in the dark, the lightning disclosing bloodshot steel gray eyes. Long stringy black hair framed the ghoulish features, the lips were blood red as well, and though the expression was frozen in a grimace, the teeth were elongated and sharp, the nose wrinkled in a snarl. It was as if someone had propped a Halloween mask outside on her porch.  The cell phone slipped from Julia’s trembling hand, and with another crash of thunder, the sudden realization that this face not only was no mask, but that it was not on her porch at all invaded her very soul, and a ripple of terror swept through her body. Just as she opened her mouth to scream, she saw the creature step fully out of the closet and step quickly in her direction, arms outstretched.
What do you think will happen to Julia? Find out in Absolution, coming soon! And if you haven't read the first three books in the Trilogy, you can find Book 1 Transformation here.

Advertising Through Amazon is Working for Me!

I've been running adds for my Kindle published books through Amazon for over a year. Most of the time, my ACos (Advertising Cost of Sales) runs around 400%, but I set up some new adds at the beginning of this month, and they are doing really well. One of them is actually at 75%, another at 102%--which means they are actually profitable. People are seeing my adds, clicking on them, and buying my book!  I know that's how it's supposed to work, but it hasn't been working that way for me, until this new set of adds.  So what did I do differently this time? Good question! Let me see if I can explain!
First of all, I took advantage of all of the room I've been given within the add without repeating anything.  I didn't restate the title, as I have in the past. I didn't include information they can get from the title, the cover, or anything unimportant.  I tried to compliment the synopsis so that, once a potential reader clicks through, they can find out different information from the book blurb, not a repeat of what I already said.  I think this has helped!
My current add for Transformation
I'm also not running ads for the second and third book in my series. People are probably not going to buy those books until after they buy the first one, so I may as well sink my advertising money into that first book instead of the second and third.
The books that are doing the best have the most professional coves as well. They are the two that I paid the most for. Most of my books do have professionally designed covers, but when it comes to that initial image, you get what you paid for. Look at these three books. Can you tell me which cover I paid the most for?



The answer is Ghosts of Southampton. I paid $30 on Fiverr for the cover for Resurrection, and I did the cover for Doll Maker myself. Transformation is selling really well with these new ads, and I definitely think the professional cover is helping!
I've seen a huge boost to my sales this week, and even though I'm still not a "Best Seller," it's nice to see my books climbing the charts!  I'm having more luck running ads through Amazon Kindle than anywhere else I've ever tried!
Where do you like to advertise? What works for you?

How to Publish a Book That Doesn't Suck (In 4 Easy Steps)

Let me start by saying, I am no publishing expert. These are just words of wisdom I have picked up as I have traversed the field of writing, editing, and publishing. Besides writing eight books, I have edited hundreds of manuscripts, and read thousands of published works, many of which were self-published.  Based on this vast experience, this is my advice to you, my fellow members of the Indie Writing Club.

1) Think long and hard about your plot, talk it out with someone, and look for holes.
Don't let your readers fall in a plot hole!
Pretty much anything you can think of has been done, one way or another, before you were even born. It's hard to think of a completely unique idea.  Sometimes authors get overzealous with their creative juices and end up concocting story lines that don't make sense or have lots of plot holes in them. If your story idea is no good, the flow is messed up, events happen out of order, the pacing is off, or it doesn't make sense--it's not a very good story. Find someone you trust (another writer, perhaps) and talk through the plot before you even start writing. Otherwise, you may be spending a lot of time writing a really crappy book.

2) Take your time
Time is on your side!
It seems like some authors try to turn out a new book every couple of months. If you've got a team of experts behind you, maybe you can do this. Otherwise, slow down a little bit and make sure that what you are producing is a quality product. I know I published my first book, Deck of Cards , before it was ready, and I paid for it. If you don't believe me, check out the one star review that is still haunting my dreams today. Even though I have since gone back and made a lot of changes (including hiring a new editor, having several other authors read over it and suggest changes, etc.) that particular reader had a poor experience, and I may never see that horrible review go away.  Let my mistake pay off for you and learn from it. Slow down and make sure that all of your ducks are in a row before you hit publish.

3) Hire a good editor!
Everyone can benefit from a good editor
Someday, in all your spare time, look over a random sampling of ebooks on Amazon and notice how many of them list an editor. Now, of the ones that do, look to see how many of them are Indie books.  Have you noticed that not very many Indie books list an editor? There are a lot of reasons for this. Some people just don't think about giving their editor credit. Some editors would rather not be listed. However, in my recent experience, I have noticed that a lot of Indie books don't seem to have an editor to list. You need an editor--or at the very least a good proofreader; you cannot possibly catch all of your own mistakes on your own.  Of course editing costs money, but there are some good editors available for less than you might think. You can find some of them on Fiverr, and the best ones will usually take more than one look. It's worth your time and money to hire someone else to look over your work--and no, your spouse doesn't count unless he or she happens to be an editor.

4) Beta, beta, beta!
Let other people read your work before you publish it
Please don't publish a book that no one else, other than you, has ever read.  You may get lucky and have a great story with no plot holes and nothing out of sequence that makes perfect sense the first time around. But chances are that's not what you have. You need at least a few people to read over it before you release it to the world to check for all of the other things we've talked about. They are not necessarily proofreaders or editors, although I have had a few beta's catch mistakes my editor missed.  I try to have at least five, and sometimes as many as twelve, people read over every book I write before I publish it. People who give lots of feedback and ask lots of questions always get invited back, and I usually give them a signed paperback copy. It's not hard to get a few friends to read your stuff, but I suggest getting a few other people as well--fellow writers, friends of friends, avid readers, etc., You want people who won't spare your feelings.  There are a lot of groups on Facebook that provide beta readers. You just have to look around, and don't be afraid to ask. Most people don't mind getting something for free and having their opinion listened to as well.

Again, these are just my suggestions. If you follow them and your book still sucks, don't blame me.  I love Indie writers and the whole idea that we no longer have to have our work approved by big publishing houses to get our stories told, but we have to be smart about it. Let's work together to stop the crappy books and fill in those plot holes with roses, not manure.
If there's anything I can do to assist you in your writing endeavors, please let me know. You can reach me at authoridjohnson@gmail.com. Happy writing!

I Hate Pirates!

I've been attacked by pirates--and I am livid!
And they aren't even the cool Captain Jack kind.

These are the kind that take your books and give them away for free--without your permission.
Listen, I'm not a big time author. I barely make enough money a month from my eight books to pay the electric bill. If I'm ever going to be a "real" author, I need every penny that comes from my writing to go into my pocket--so I can feed my kids!
Today, I decide to do a search of each of my titles on Google to see if any of them happened to show up where they shouldn't. I didn't think I'd find anything. I mean, after all, who am I that anyone would want to bother to upload my novels to a pirating site?  They're practically free already!
Well, I was wrong.  I found Cordia's Will, Deck of Cards, Transformation, Repercussion, and Resurrection all available for instant download on multiple sites. For free. Without my permission.
And some of these sites are impossible to contact. The ones that did have contact buttons got an ear full, believe me, and my threats of sending in lawyers are no joke either (as soon as I can find one who has a few spare moments and works for peanuts, like me.)Who do these people think they are? And more importantly, who in the world would dare use these sites? Don't they know they are stealing? Do they care? If you really want to read my book that badly for free, let me know and I'll send it to you! But don't take it without asking. That's just wrong.
Some of the sites were even in other countries.  I have no idea what I can do to get them to take down my books.
There are enough free books available from authors on Amazon who give their permission you can read free books for the rest of your life. I have over 4000 books on my Kindle app that I have downloaded from Amazon when authors are giving them away for free. There's no need to use these pirate sites.
So... I'm super bummed right now about this whole thing And really, really pissed off.  Please help spread the word that people should not download books from these sites. If it's not Amazon, Nook, Kobo, Smashwords, or something like that, it's probably not legitimate. So don't do it!
And thanks for reading my rant.  If you'd like to offset my loss in earnings from these swindlers, please feel free to visit my Amazon page and buy one of my books. It will cost you up to three dollars, but you'll feel okay about that when you're not burning in eternal hell fire!

Ghosts of Southampton: Titanic Cover Reveal

I'm so excited to announce I finally have a cover for my upcoming release, Ghosts of Southampton: Titanic!
GS will be ready for pre-order soon!!
This was my entry for the 2015 3-Day Novel Writing Contest. Though the jury is still out on a long list, short list, and/or winner, I decided to go ahead and move forward with the novel because this is a story I think my readers will really enjoy, and I just can't keep waiting for an official word from the judges.
So, my plan is for GS to be ready for pre-order on March 15 with a release date on April 15, which is the same date the ship sank in 1912.
The process of choosing a cover was not easy! I worked on it myself for quite sometime. Finally, I decided to hire the same designer who re-did the cover for Transformation last month.  It's great to finally see Meg's face with my own eyes!
I'd love to hear your feedback about the cover, and the title of the book. I've heard that it is confusing, that it seems like it might be non-fiction, or that putting the word Titanic in the title is overused.  What do y'all think?
Also, if you would like a copy for free in exchange for an honest review, please email me at authoridjohnson@gmail.com.
Who's looking forward to finally reading Meg and Charlie's love story after all of these months?

Why Serendipity is Dyslexic: Lessons From Doll Maker

Many of you followed my NaNoWriMo journey on this very blog, reading along as I wrote The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas, publishing chapter by chapter in the raw as it was finished. And many of you may have been surprised at the darker parts of the story. This is a bit of a spoiler, but the reader discovers pretty quickly that Serendipity has accidentally killed her mother and two older sisters because she can't read.  I think it also becomes evident pretty quickly that Serendipity clearly has a severe form of dyslexia, and that's what led to the awful accident that claimed the lives of her family members.
So, why in the world would I write something like that in a Christmas book?
First of all, the theme is rather dark anyway--it's Gothic--dreary England, Victorian era, cursed house, etc.  So a gruesome death fit right in. However, that wasn't my primary reason for including this tragedy--it's because I wanted to bring some attention to dyslexia in a way that stood out.  Dyslexia is the number one undiagnosed learning difference/disability in the nation. One out of every five children has dyslexia. If we are going to start finding these kiddos and helping them, we've got to start talking about this issue. And as a writer, the best way for me to draw attention to it is to write about it.
Now, certainly I realize this is a very extreme case. The likelihood that anyone would accidentally kill their own family because of dyslexia is pretty ridiculous.  Nor do I want people to think that I believe people with dyslexia are dangerous or that if you have dyslexia, we should fear you. On the contrary, my own daughter has dyslexia, lots of the students I work with have dyslexia, and I have recently started teaching dyslexia--so, no, I absolutely did not want to bring negative attention to the issue; I simply wanted to make a statement that dyslexia is real, it takes patience and understanding, and it can be treated with the right program.
In the story, Serendipity is so focused on her differences that she can't see anything positive about herself until she finally meets some people who are willing to accept her differences and help her learn to read despite her dyslexia. She finds out that she actually has a lot of talents and skills that other people do not have, and that these can, in part, be attributed to her dyslexia. She finds out that many brilliant thinkers and creators in history have also had dyslexia, and that these people went on to be major contributors to science, art, politics, mankind in general.
While, at first glance, the idea that Serendipity's dyslexia causes her to make a catastrophic mistake may seem detrimental to the cause of bringing awareness to the issue, I hope that by the time the reader finishes the book he or she will see the true meaning behind my extreme interpretation. Beyond that, this is a story about overcoming obstacles, recognizing one's strengths, and realizing one's potential. (And it's also about Christmas, and who doesn't like Christmas?)
I'd love to hear your thoughts on the issue!

How to Gift an Ebook on Amazon in 2 Simple Steps

This is the time of year when convenient shopping trumps... well, just about anything. And there's really nothing more simple than gifting an ebook to a friend or loved one, especially if you both already have an Amazon Kindle account.  I just sent my newest book to my brother-in-law in about 5 seconds. Let me show you how.
First, log in to your own Amazon Kindle account and find the book you'd like to gift.  If you're not sure what book you'd like to send, Amazon will be glad to help you via their search toolbar--or just send them one of my books. ;)
Once you've selected a book, on the right you'll see a button that says "Give as a Gift."  Click on this button.

Then, enter your loved one's email address in the box where it says, "Email address."
You will get an email that confirms your ebook was sent, which looks like this:
And that's it! Super simple! It only took me about ten seconds to send my new book, The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas, to one of my biggest fans.
If you have questions, please let me know in the comments.
And if you'd like to give a loved one a whimsical, fantasy novel, check out The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas here. It's only 99 cents through January 1st!

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 18

Here is the long awaited Chapter 18!  Sorry to have kept you waiting a few days. Remember this has not been edited yet. If you'd like to read from the beginning, click here.
A RevelationAlmost as quickly as Serendipity  began her search, she heard a small squeaking in the corner behind a cupboard. “Pozzletot, is that you?” she asked hurrying over towards the sound.  Sure enough, there he was crouched between a low cupboard and the wall. She hadn’t noticed the quick flick of Corey’s wrist that had summoned him to that location, nor did it occur to her to ask why he hadn’t simply used his magic to conjure the beast back into his possession once he realized the little mouse had stowed away to the North Pole in the first place.  Rather, she was more focused on cuddling her long lost friend, and snatching him up, she cradled him carefully in her hands, exclaiming, “Oh, Pozzletot, my sweet friend! I’m so happy to see you!” She smothered him with kisses and laughed as he squeaked in delight at the reunion as well.She felt Corey’s hand on her back before she realized he had crossed the room. “There we are,” he said smiling. “How lovely to have the two of you back together again.”Serendipity turned and wrapped her arm around Corey’s neck, carefully holding Pozzletot in her other hand. “Thank you so much for bringing me here to fetch him,” she whispered.“You’re quite welcome. I’m sorry I took him away from you in the first place,” he replied.Serendipity wasn’t sure if he meant to say “accidentally” or not, but at this point it did not matter to her. She was happy to have visited the North Pole, happier still to be reunited with her lost friend, and happiest of all for having the opportunity to meet Corey--the real one, not the fake one who had showed up on her doorstep days ago flashing a fancy smile and offers of unfathomable joy for the rest of her existence. Before untangling her arm from his neck, she kissed him quickly on the cheek and then backed away, blushing, focusing her attention on her chatty little friend.Corey blushed as well, and after a moment, he cleared his voice and said, “Let me show you to your chambers, Ms. Fizzlestitch.”“Yes, of course,” Serendipity replied. “It’s only…”“What’s that?” Corey asked, pausing just before the kitchen door.“I havent’ an overnight bag or anything,” Serendipity responded, thinking how very uncomfortable her dress would be to sleep in.“I’m sure I can whip up something,” Corey assured her, pushing the door open, and smiling at her over his shoulder.Serendipity smiled as well and let him go through the door first, though it did cross her mind that should she stand just right under that mistletoe again, he would be forced to kiss her. As tempting as it was, she followed him up the stairs instead, noting how his staircase was so much more gradual an incline and so much easier to climb than the rickety ladder that led to her loft.“Here we are,” he said stopping outside a door at the end of the hallway. “I think you shall find everything you need inside.”He pushed the door slightly ajar, and glancing in, Serendipity could see a quaint room with a nice size bed made of log timbers and what appeared to be a comfortable mattress, a dresser with a looking glass, and a bookshelf.  There was a cozy looking quilt on the bed and a small fireplace in the corner, which came to life before her eyes.  Her gaze returned to the bookshelf for a moment, and Corey asked, “Would you be more comfortable if…”“No,” Serendipity replied. “Leave it. It’s fine.”“All right then,” he said smiling meekly. “You should find everything you need in the dresser, but if I missed anything, please let me know. Or Mr. Waddlebug. His room is right next to yours, and mine is at the end of the hall.”“Right,” Serendipity nodded, following with her eyes as he gestured. “Thank you again for everything, Corey.”“There’s no need to thank me,” he said leaning against the door jam with one hand, his face ever so close to hers.“Oh, yes, there is,” she insisted. “You’ve taught me so much in one day; I can’t even begin to explain to you how nice it’s been to be… alive again.”“You should consider being alive everyday,” he replied. “You’re very good at it.”He was leaning ever closer to her now, and she could feel his breath on her cheek.  “I think… I think I should be off to bed now.”“Yes, yes, of course,” Corey said stepping away from her. “Pleasant dreams, Serendipity.”“Pleasant dreams,” she echoed with a slight nod before stepping quickly into the guest room, shutting the door with one hand and pressing her back into it. Looking down at Pozzletot, who was still perched on her free hand, she smiled, feeling her face become flushed.  Her little friend seemed to be making kissing noises, his paws rubbing together in front of his face. “Oh, stop!” she said. “You’re such a silly little mouse!” Sitting him down on the bed, she stepped over to the dresser where she found a beautiful red nightgown in just the right size. “I certainly underestimated our dear Mr. Cane, now didn’t I?” she asked to no one in particular. “He is a good man after all. A good man indeed.”When Serendipity finally awoke the next morning, sunshine was streaming through the window despite the thick green curtains, and she wondered how she had possibly slept so long. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time in ages. Stretching, she glanced around the room and was overjoyed to see a still sleeping Pozzletot nestled on the pillow next to her.  She giggled with glee as he scratched his nose in his sleep.  She considered waking him but decided instead to let him sleep a bit longer and then quietly pulled herself from the bed.She crossed the room to the closet where she had hung her dress the night before, but upon throwing open the door, she was happily surprised to see a fresh frock hanging there. This one was in a bright blue, with a thick woolen cape hanging next to it, complete with matching hat and mittens.  Beneath it sat a new pair of brown leather boots. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, and bending down to snatch one up she saw that they were just the right size. In the drawers behind her, she found just the right undergarments as well. “He’s thought of everything,” she whispered to herself as she readied herself to go downstairs and find Corey so she could thank him for his overwhelming hospitality.By the time she was dressed, Pozzletot was awake and rubbing his belly, an indication that he was as hungry as she was.  Scooping him up and setting him on her shoulder, Serendipity ascended the stairs. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen, Corey’s for certain and what must be Mr. Waddlebug in reply.  The words were difficult to make out, and it wasn’t until she was just about to push the door open that she heard Corey say, “I’ll tell her. Now, please stop bothering about it. You are correct in saying it is better that she find out from me, and she will. In good time.”Of course, Serendipity had no idea whether he was speaking about something she needed to know, or someone else, and not being one to eavesdrop, she coughed once to announce her arrival and then pushed the door open.Both gentlemen stood as she entered, and Serendipity returned Corey’s warm smile. She knew she would be most happy to see him but the butterflies in her stomach came as a surprise, a welcome one. “Good morning,” Corey called out to her as she entered the room. “Don’t you look radiant this morning?”“Why thank you,” Serendipity blushed, curtseying in an attempt to show off her new dress. “You certainly have exquisite taste, sir.”“I’m so glad that you like it. Here, have a seat,” he insisted, pulling out the closest chair between them. “And please, meet my associate, Mr. Waddlebug.”For the first time, Serendipity  turned her attention to the other gentlemen.  She couldn’t help but remember Corey’s description of him as being “a bit bug like,” and while it wasn’t overwhelmingly so, she could see enough of a resemblance between the beady eyes and boxy features of the little man’s face that she had to stifle a giggle.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” she said, taking the hand he offered. He placed his lips gently on the back of her hand, causing her to gasp at his formality, and smile at his attempt at being debonair.“The pleasure is all mine,” Mr. Waddlebug replied. “Let me fix you a plate.”“Oh, please don’t bother yourself. I don’t mind looking after myself,” Serendipity began, but he was already up, piling bacon, eggs, and homemade scones on a white china plate, which he promptly sat before her. Her utensils were there already, as was a brightly colored Christmas napkin, and he poured her a spot of tea as she began to dig in.“Thank you so much,” Serendipity said as she tasted each of the offering on her plate. “You are an amazing cook, Mr. Waddlebug. This and the gingerbread men you made last night, why it’s a wonder you don’t open a restaurant.”“Gingerbread men I made?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, looking at Corey who only shrugged. Serendipity didn’t seem to notice as she continued to eat only slowing to make the occasional “mmmm” noise or take a sip of her tea.  It had been years since she had stopped working long enough to eat a meal, and possibly years before that since she had eaten anything as tasty and nutritious as this somewhat balanced meal.  As she ate, Pozzletot climbed down from her shoulder and Mr. Waddlebug made sure he had his fill of scone crumbs as well, talking sweetly to him as he did so.Corey was finished with his breakfast before Serendipity even entered the room, and he sat and watched her eat, sipping his tea in amused silence as he had never seen anyone so overjoyed at the pleasures of a simple breakfast.Once she had finished eating, Mr. Waddlebug offered her more, which she refused, patting her full belly, and then he cleared the table leaving only the few remaining crumbs intended for Pozzletot.“I don’t think I’ve eaten like that in… well, probably at least eight years,” Serendipity reminisced, leaning back in her chair and smiling.  “Thank you again, both of you, for your hospitality.”“We are just happy to have you here,” Mr. Waddlebug remarked as he placed the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwater to soak.“I’m happy to be here, too,” Serendipity admitted with a satisfied smile.“All right then. I’m off to go about my chores,” Mr. Waddlebug said, pulling a thick coat off of a hook by the back door. “Serendipity, Pozzletot, have a nice day. I hope to see you both soon. Sir,” he added, looking at Corey who nodded at him and then he scuttled out the door letting a breeze of cold air into the little room as he did so.Serendipity shivered. “It’s a bit colder out there today, isn’t it?” “Yes, I believe so,” Corey agreed. “That’s why I made sure you had something warmer to wear today.” “Thank you,” Serendipity said thinking of the gray winter wear she had left in the closet.   “You know, he does look a bit like an insect, it’s true,” she offered. “And he does waddle slightly, as well. I believe your assessment was rather spot on.” Corey laughed but did not respond, which prompted Serendipity to continue with her assessment. “Of course, if I were named based on my appearance, I should wonder what I would be called.” “Well, that depends,” Corey replied shrugging. “If you were named on the first day I met you, I would have to call you something very different than what I would name you on the last.” “And what would you call me today?” Serendipity asked placing her hands beneath her chin in an angelic pose. Again, Corey couldn’t help but laugh. “In that pose? I don’t know,  Snow Angel, perhaps.” “Snow Angel? I rather like that,” Serendipity admitted.  “I’ve been called worse.” “You’ve been called better,” Corey suggested. “I think your father had it spot on when he named you Serendipity.” She smiled serenely at him for a moment before she finally said, “You know, Serendipity doesn’t just mean ‘luck’ or ‘good fortune’ as so many people think. Firstly, it means to find good luck and good fortune by accident. And I’m afraid, for most of my life, I’ve only stumbled into the accident part and never the fortune part. I think, however, perhaps my luck is changing a bit.” His green eyes settled in on her face for a long pause before Corey finally spoke. “I hope so,” he said quietly.  “I truly hope so.” Serendipity began to feel a bit uncomfortable.  In order to break the tension, not only did she look away, but she asked, “And what of you? What should we have called you if your name was based solely on your appearance?” “I haven’t the foggiest,” Corey said, chuckling quietly. “Spike?” “Spike!” Serendipity laughed. “Quite suitable! I was thinking something like Prince of Velvet, but I do like the name Spike for you ever so much better!” “Are you poking fun at my suits?” Corey asked, faking offense. “Not in the least,” Serendipity assured him. “In fact, I think you look very sharp--quite stylish, certainly unique.” “I have a very important job, you know,” Corey continued. “And I need to make sure I am dressed for the occasion.” “Of course!” Serendipity agreed. “Beside, my father always dressed thusly before his retirement, and I suppose I have modeled my own appearance after his,” he admitted, looking down at his suit red and green striped shirt, red jacket, and matching pants. “I am certainly not one to disagree with one attempting to emulate one’s father,” Serendipity stated matter-of-factly.  “Now tell me, does your father’s hair also replicate your own?” “You don’t like my hair at all, do you?” Corey asked, his expression playing somewhere between offense and amusement. “Well, honestly,” Serendipity admitted, “at first I found it quite odd. But now, I will say it has grown on me, and I’m actually quite fond of it.” To prove her point quite literally, she reached up and touched the spikiest section of his hair, which he bent forward in order for her to access. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “I expected it to be crunchy, but it’s not at all, is it?” “No, it’s not,” Corey agreed. “It’s my father’s own secret hair gel recipe. Only he and I know the secret ingredients.” “Not Cassius then?” she asked, drawing her hand back to her side of the table. “No, Cassius prefers a much more boring hairstyle,” Corey explained. “He’s, well, he’s a bit ordinary, I’m afraid.” His voice sounded overly empathetic, which caused her to giggle. “You find humor in my older brother’s lack of variety?” “No, I find humor in your interpretation of it,” she replied. She continued to laugh for a few minutes before she finally regained her composure.  “Tell me, Mr. Cane, what business must you be about today? I’m sure your schedule is quite full.” “Oh, yes, quite,” he agreed. “I have various important appointments to keep--with various important persons.  Why? What did you have in mind?” “Well,” Serendipity began, “if you have time, and if it’s not any trouble, I think I should like to meet the Snow Queen--that is, if you think she might have time to meet me. Just for a moment.” Corey’s expression changed for a moment, and Serendipity couldn’t tell if it was concern or if he was just considering the request.  After a moment, he said, “The Snow Queen, right. I’m really not sure. I suppose I could check with her to see if she is available.  I thought that, perhaps, you might consider taking a look at some of the cottage designs we have available, you know, just in case you decide to… stay.” Serendipity was certain the topic would come up eventually; it had to as she would either have to ask to be taken home or he would have to offer to take her--or offer to find her another place to stay. “Corey…” she began, toying aimlessly with the handle on her teacup. “I…” But before she could continue, he said, “Listen, Serendipity, there’s something I need to tell you.” He placed his hand on top of hers, and the tone of concern in his voice made the hairs on her arms stand up. Serendipity looked him straight in the eyes and held her breath, having no idea what it might be, though she was certain by his tone it couldn’t be good.  “I, uhm, haven’t been completely honest with you…” he began. She continued to stare at him as he absently ran his free hand through his hair. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Whatever it is, Corey, you can tell me,” she assured him quietly. Corey swallowed hard, and looking deeply into her pale blue eyes he said, “I, uhm, that is… uh… I made the gingerbread men with magic.” Then, he drew his hand away from hers and covered his face with both palms, shaking his head slowly from side to side as he did so. “What?” Serendipity asked, not sure whether she should laugh or smack him for making her feel as if he were about to say something truly important. “That’s it? That’s what you wanted to tell me?” Corey didn’t meet her eyes for a moment, which made her wonder if there were something more. “That’s it,” he finally confirmed, still staring down at the table. “I just thought you should know the truth.” Serendipity shook her head. “Well, all right then. The truth is very important to me, but… I thought you were going to tell me something.. important.” Saying nothing, Corey shrugged his shoulders again, still looking away. Serendipity squinted one eye and looked at him closely, as if she were trying to see into his soul, to see if there were more.  For once, she couldn’t get a good read on him, however, and so she decided that if there were something else he needed to tell her, he would do so in good time.  “Well, as long as we are being honest…” she offered at long last. This got his attention and he finally turned to face her again, his hand resting in front of him on the table. “What is it?” he asked a curious expression on his handsome face. “I wasn’t quite telling the truth once yesterday either,” she admitted. “How’s that?” “Corey,” she began, “if I knew that only female reindeer have their antlers this time of year, surely I must know what mistletoe is for.” His smile was back then, the real one, the one that she had grown to love. “I did find that rather odd,” he confirmed. “But I was more than willing to show you.” She smiled from ear to ear just the, and realized he had taken her hand in his. She sat staring into his eyes for the longest moment, content to do so for the next several hours if fate should have it.  However, eventually, he said, “We should… go, check with Ingrid--the Snow Queen--see if she’s busy.” “Oh, can we do that?” Serendipity asked, clasping her hands together. “Yes, let’s just go. What’s the worst that can happen? She can turn us out, I suppose.” “All right, then!” Serendipity giggled. “Let me go grab the cape you brought me, and I shall be ready straightaway!” As she stood, she noticed something over his shoulder. “Oh,” she said as he followed her to the door. “Perhaps you can ask her for another snow poinsettia when you arrive,” she said, one hand on the door. “What’s that?” he asked, glancing back at the counter where the flower stood. “It seems the one she gave you has died,” Serendipity explained.
As she bounded out the door and up the stairs, Corey crossed back over to the potted flower. Sure enough, the leaves that were vibrant and green just yesterday were now brown and twisted, the once beautiful flowers a sickening yellow.  Shaking his head, he exited the room and went to put on his coat.

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 17: A Mouse, a Flask, and a Decision

Mr. Cornelius Cane has to make a crucial decision in Chapter 17 of The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas.  Read my newest novel as I write it from the beginning here! Please keep in mind this has not been edited yet so there maybe some typos and spelling mistakes, etc.  I'd love to know what you think!
Chapter SeventeenA Mouse, a Flask, and a DecisionCorey’s cabin was not too far distant from the town square and the workshop, but he could tell that Serendipity was growing tired and so he took a leasuirly pace, allowing her to determine the speed of their procession.  The snow was still falling and whenever she thought that he was not looking, Serendipity would, occasionally, ensnare another snowflake with her tongue, as she had done so long ago in the accompaniment of her father.  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked as they neared the street where his cabin stood.
“I believe I am,” Serendipity admitted.  “Although I am rather tired. This is a bit too much movement for what I am used to.”“I’m sure,” he agreed.  “Well, we shall be at my home soon, you shall have your little friend back with you, and I shall ask my valet, Mr. Waddlebug, to fix you a spot of tea before we are off on our way back to England.”“Mr. Waddlebug?” Serendipity asked, chuckling. “What sort of a name is that?”“This from the person who names her mouse friend Pozzletot?” Corey asked, turning to look at her and joining in her amusement.“Well, while I agree that Pozzletot is a peculiar name, my friend is a mouse. Yours is an elf, I suppose?”“Yes, he is. And he does remind me a bit of a bug,” Corey admitted.  “And he does tend to waddle a bit as well.”Serendipity was laughing so hard, she doubled-over, her free arm wrapped tightly around her midsection.“You find that amusing do you?” Corey asked, pausing beside her, a genuine smile still framing his handsome face.“Quite,” Serendipity managed to squeeze out between roars of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, regaining her composure. “I’m sure he’s a fine fellow.”“Not really,” Corey muttered, causing her to look at him in astonishment. “Oh, he’s quite good at his job, I suppose. But his disposition is a bit… lacking.”“Hmmm,” Serendipity said to herself, continuing upon their journey and looking sideways at Corey as she did so.“What was that?” he asked, an air of shock on his handsome face.  “What are you implying, Ms. Fizzlestitch.”“Nothing,” she replied, “only that you, too, have the tendency towards a bit of an unappealing disposition from time to time.”Corey’s mouth fell open in shock, though he recognized the teasing lilt of her voice. “And what of you? Ms. ‘I shan’t go with you, now get out of my house’?” he asked in a voice meant to mock hers, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her.“Is that how I sounded?” Serendipity asked, still amused. “Like an old bitty cursing her cat?”“Yes!” Corey exclaimed, still facing her.“Really?” she asked again forcing back a smile that continued to play at the corners of her mouth.“Yes!”“Well, then, perhaps I should stay here and not go back to that fiendish misbehavior from before,” she muttered as she turned and began to stroll again.“What was that?” Corey asked, sure he had heard her correctly but wanting to hear her say it again.“Oh, nothing,” Serendipity replied, wishing she had kept her thoughts to herself. “Do you like me better now that I am here?” she asked, the teasing expression still dancing in her eyes.“Much,” Corey admitted.“Good,” Serendipity smiled. “I like you better now that I am here as well.”The crooked grin was back on his face again, but this time it was true, and she knew it in her heart.  “Come along,” he said after a moment, her arm still locked in his. “We shall be there in just a moment.”A few steps further and they stood outside of his cabin. It was a bit larger than she had expected and well decorated, something else she had not expected. Even the outside twinkled with the same lights as in the Village. There were potted Christmas trees on either side of the door and a large wreath welcoming them. “How lovely!” Serendipity exclaimed as she followed him up the steps. He opened the door for her, and she stepped in, once again in awe at how festive and happy his place appeared as she looked around at all of the Christmas decor. “Not at all what I was expecting,” she admitted as he took her coat and hung it, along with his own, on the hooks by the door.  As they stomped the snow from their boots, Serendipity heard a noise in the kitchen. “Please, have a seat by the fireplace, and I shall be back in a moment.  We shall begin the hunt for your friend in just a moment.”Serendipity nodded and took the seat he offered her, and Corey went into the kitchen where he found Mr. Waddlebug with Pozzletot in his cupped hands. The two seemed to be deep in conversation. “Whatever are you doing?” Corey asked his assistant who stood near the cook stove, a pot of water beginning a slow march toward boiling for tea.“I’m saying goodbye,” Mr. Waddlebug replied. Corey thought for a moment perhaps he saw a tear in the corner of the other man’s eye. “It’s a mouse,” he whispered sharply.“I know that,” Mr. Waddlebug responded, still staring intently at the adorable creature. “But I’ve grown quite fond of him these past few days.”“Goodness gracious,” Corey muttered. “Listen, put that thing down, on the ground, where it will come when she calls it.”“All right,” Mr. Waddlebug agreed, though he put Pozzletot back on the counter instead.“What’s this?” Corey asked. There was a large white and blue flowering plant taking up a considerable amount of counter space and while he wasn’t positive, he was quite sure he had not seen it there before.“It’s a gift,” his assistant explained. “A snow poinsettia, or something. It’s from…”“Ingrid,” Corey completed the sentence for him. Pulling the card out of the plastic pick stuck inside the flower pot, he read quickly, “Do the right thing, Corey.” Shaking his head he tossed the card back on the counter out of the way. Then, returning his attention to Waddlebug, he said, “Prepare the tea, and make sure that you put this in her cup.” With that, he pulled the small flask containing the powerful blue liquid out of his pocket and shoved into the mit of his assistant who stared at it in trepidation. “What is it?” Corey asked, still annoyed.“Nothing,” Waddlebug said, staring at the flask. “It’s only… I’m not sure I want to be a part of this. I don’t think you should do it, make her stay if she doesn’t want to.”With a huff, Corey took the flask back, shoving it into his pants pocket. “Fine. Then, when the tea is ready, call me in, and I shall put it in for you. All right?”Without saying a word, Mr. Waddlebug nodded solemnly and watched as Corey crossed back over to the door.  As always, his disposition changed as he pushed the door open, the smile returning to his face in order to appease his company.Serendipity was sitting in the same chair his mother preferred, staring at the fireplace. “Is everything all right?” she asked as Corey exited the kitchen. She could tell by his expression that he was upset about something. It was that forced smile again, not the one she had grown accustomed to seeing when he was actually happy.“Yes, of course. Everything is fine. Mr. Waddlebug just needed some assistance in the kitchen,” he said over his shoulder.  “Oh, shall I help him?” Serendipity asked, as if she were about to stand.“No, everything is fine now, I believe,” Corey replied, sitting down across from her.  “Please, rest. You’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”“I am, actually,” Serendipity admitted, covering her mouth as she yawned.  “You know, if you’d like to stay here tonight--that is in the Village, not here, in my home, but in my parents’ perhaps, or somewhere else--arrangements could be made. You do seem like you need a rest.” Corey wasn’t quite sure why all of his words were coming out so jumbled as he watched her rest her head back against the seat, her eyes beginning to stay closed a bit longer with each blink, her cheeks becoming a rosy pink hue from the warmth of the fire.“I’m fine,” Serendipity insisted, though her drowsiness was quite telling. “I shouldn’t want to be a bother to anyone.”“It would be no bother, I assure you,” Corey replied.Serendipity smiled at his kindness, and raising her head a bit, she asked, “Tell me about your parents, Corey.  And you have a brother, don’t you?”“Yes, one brother, Cassius. He and his wife Pyoria run the candy cane business, which he inherited from my father, Cristobal, and his father before him,” he explained, straightening his suit jacket.“That must be delightful,” Serendipity replied her enthusiasm damped only by the extreme fatigue she was beginning to feel.“I suppose so,” Corey responded with a shrug. “I never knew or cared much about the candy cane business. I always thought I’d be off doing more important--different--things.”Serendipity straightened up a bit. “Do you find your family business unimportant, then, Mr. Cane?” she asked her eyes studying him closely.He could see no judgement in her expression, only curiosity. “No, not really. I mean, perhaps, a bit. But it doesn't’ really matter. Since my brother is older than I, it was always a given that he would take over the business. And I would do… something else.”“But you do enjoy your field, don’t you?” Serendipity clarified.“I do, very much,” he assured her. “I guess, I just always wondered what it might be like to actually make something, you know? Rather than simply facilitating the making by providing the artists.”“There’s nothing quite like seeing something that has only lived in your mind come to live before your very eyes,” Serendipity admitted, a faroff expression taking over her face.Corey nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. I wouldn’t know.”“Haven’t you ever made… anything?” she asked, turning her attention back to him.“Not that I recall,” he admitted. “Perhaps a picture or something of clay when I was a child.”Serendipity’s bottom lipped dropped to form a frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.  I should love to help you design and make something of your own creation.”Corey snickered. “I’m not quite sure I’m capable of that.”“Of course you are,” Serendipity replied. “Everyone can make something.”  She watched as he shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn't’ quite believe her. “Tell me, what is it that you would like to make, if you could make anything in the world.”She thought it might take him a moment to answer, but it didn’t. It was as if he had been thinking about it for some time. “I think I should like to make toy ships,” he replied, hoping his answer didn’t bring back upsetting memories for her.It did not. Quite the contrary, Serendipity smiled broadly. “My father used to like to make toy ships, in a bottle. Have you seen those before?” He nodded that he had and she continued. “I used to help him some. I should think I would be able to show you how, someday, if you would like that.”“I think I should,” Corey replied, smiling. His hand rested atop his pocket, atop the flask, and he began to think he wouldn’t be needing it afterall.“Of course, you would have to come to my cottage to learn,” she continued. “Since I won’t be staying.”Corey’s face fell. “You’ve made up your mind then?” he asked solemnly.“Mr. Cane,” Serendipity said with a sigh, “my mind was made up before I even left my home, now wasn’t it?”“Yes, of course,” he replied, the disingenuous smile spreading over his face. “Will you excuse me a moment? I think I shall go check on Mr. Waddlebug.”“Certainly,” Serendipity said, returning her gaze to the fireplace.As Corey made his way into the kitchen, he let out a heavy sigh. It seemed he was going to have to do this the hard way after all.  “Whatever is taking you so long? And why is that mouse still on the counter?” he asked, eyeing Pozzletot closely.“Oh, I… forgot to release him,” he replied, clearly not wanting to let Pozzletot go just yet.  “And then there’s a matter of the gingersnaps. The ones I baked yesterday were a bit stale, so I was going to make some more. But then I realized we needed more eggs. So, I went out to the hen house to fetch a few, but there weren’t any. So then I came back in and was trying to determine what else to make, but I couldn’t decide. And then….”“Oh for the love of... . Here,” Corey cried in frustration, thrusting two eggs in his direction, which he had clearly produced out of thin air.“Is everything all right in there?” Serendipity called from the living room, obviously hearing the frustration in Corey’s voice even if she couldn’t make out the words.“Everything is fine,” he assured her, infusing his voice with some fake cheer. “You know what, on second thought….” He waved his hands again and the eggs became a plate of perfectly frosted gingerbread men.“Well, that’s all fine and good,” Mr. Waddlebug stated sharply, holding the magical silver platter as if it were made of poison. “But if you’re simply going to create cookies for your guests, what do you need me for?”“Mr. Waddlebug, this is no time to debate the necessity of your position,” Corey groaned. Taking the flask back out of his pocket, he added, “Just finish the tea, and call me back in when it’s ready so I can…”“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” Serendipity asked, the closeness of her voice alerting them that she was approaching the door.“Everything is fine!” Corey repeated, sitting the flask down on the counter and running towards the door to prevent her from entering.He met her in the doorway just in time. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I haven’t been in a kitchen for years, but I do now how to boil water.” She was smiling up at him, a curious expression dancing in her eyes, and he wasn’t quite sure what she was up to.  Was she suspicious? Did she not trust him? “Ms. Fizzlestitch, I assure you, Mr. Waddlebug is doing just fine on his own. Now, if you’ll return to your seat…”“What’s that?” Serendipity asked, looking past Corey’s head at the top of the doorway.Glancing up, Corey realized where they were standing. “Oh, that,” he exclaimed. “That’s uh… mistletoe. I guess one of the elves who decorates my home must have hung that there out of amusement.”“Oh?” Serendipity replied, her eyebrows raised. “What is it for?”“You  don’t know the legend of the mistletoe?” Corey asked, surprised. Serendipity shook her head, and so he began to explain. “Well, it’s tradition, in some parts, I suppose, that… when a couple stands beneath the mistletoe… the gentleman is supposed to kiss the lady. That’s all.”
“Oh,” she repeated herself, this time her tone completely different.  She was leaning back against the doorframe, her hands resting behind her waist, her head tilted up, her eyes  looking at him intently, and Corey felt mesmerized by whatever magic spell it was she had placed him under.  He hesitated slightly, not sure what her intention might be, but then, no longer able to contain himself, he leaned forward and slowly situated his lips just above hers, waiting a second to see if she would pull away. She did not, and so he continued in his pursuit and lightly kissed her fully on the lips. Serendipity gasped, but he felt her soft lips leaning into his, so he slid his hand up the side of her face and pulled her towards him, increasing the passion as he did so.  She responded by placing her hand on his shoulder and pressing her mouth into his, slowly sliding her hand up to the back of his neck. After a moment, he released her, leaving a small distance between them as he breathed her in.  Her face was flushed, her lips a bit swollen, and she seemed to be slightly out of breath. “Like that,” he said quietly.“I see,” she said quietly, slowly drawing her hand away from him.Corey closely considered the possibility of kissing her again when he heard the teapot whistle from the kitchen. “Will you excuse me?” he asked quietly, still hovering just above her perfect, porcelain face.“Yes, of course,” she replied, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth.Corey stepped back into the kitchen, hearing her cross back over to the chair, stopping to rub his face with both hands.“It’s ready,” Mr. Waddlebug said, setting the teapot down on a pot holder.  “Whatever you decide to do, Mr. Cane, I won’t be a part of it.” “You don’t understand,” Corey said, fingering the flask in his pocket. “I can’t let her leave, Mr. Waddlebug.”“Can’t or won’t?” the old elf asked. “Are you doing what’s best for her, or what’s best for you?” And without waiting for an answer, he shuffled off out the back door, slamming it behind him.Corey took the flask out of his pocket and looked at it carefully. It was no longer just about doing his job well, having a perfect record, proving to St. Nicholas that he was worthy of his position. He knew now, if Serendipity were to leave the North Pole, if he no longer had her in his life, he would never be the same. Nevertheless, would forcing her to stay change who she was and how she thought of him? Would he ever be able to convince her that he had acted on her behalf? She would be so much happier here, so much more fulfilled. With a deep sigh, he popped the cork off of the flask and made his decision, pouring the blue liquid into his chosen container.Shoving the empty flask back into his pocket, Corey picked up the tray and walked into the great room. Serendipity looked as if she had dozed off perhaps. Her eyes flew open at the sound of the door, but she smiled at him, a sheepish expression on her face, and he sat the tray down next to her, taking one of the teacups in his hand as he did so. “Mr. Waddlebug wanted everything to be perfect. Sorry for the delay,” he explained taking his seat across from her.“Gingerbread!” Serendipity exclaimed, breathing in deeply. “How delightful!” She picked up the remaining teacup and sat it aside. “Aren’t you going to have one?” she asked, gesturing at the tray of neatly dressed gents.“None for me,” Corey replied, sipping his tea slowly.  “I’ve never been much of a gingerbread fanatic.”“No?” Serendipity questioned, choosing a nice fat fellow from amongst the group and breaking off his leg. “I haven’t had any in… years. Not since before my father passed away. My mother forbade me from having sweets.”“Really?” Corey asked, sitting his cup aside and watching her as she continued to speak, the severed leg bouncing around in her hand as she did so. “Well, my father spoilt me a bit. He always brought me the best sweets from his trips--candies from Germany, chocolates from France. So, when he died, my mother decided I should no longer have such sugary treats. Although, I was… allowed, as she would say, to bake them for my sisters.” Her face grew a bit solemn. “That’s why… they were eating the cake that day, and I… I wasn’t.”“I see,” Corey replied, an equally somber expression on his face. “I’m sorry to bring back such horrible memories.”“No,”  Serendipity corrected, still gesturing with the gingerbread man’s leg. “Don’t be sorry. It… it helps a bit to talk about it, I think.”“Well, talk about it as much as you’d like,” Corey said, smiling. “I’ll do what I can to help you move on, Serendipity.”“Thank you,” she said returning his smile. She raised the broken piece of gingerbread to her lips and  took a bite at last. “Oh, my goodness! This is… this is delicious! Your Mr. Waddlebug is a superb baker,” she continued while chewing. “I shall have to meet him.”“Perhaps in a bit,” Corey replied, his hands folded on his lap. “He’s just stepped out.”“Oh, well, he’s a master in the kitchen, that is for certain,” Serendipity said, continuing to munch down the rest of the leg, followed by another of the gingerbread man’s limbs.“Do drink you tea,” Corey insisted, gesturing towards her teacup.“Yes, of course,” Serendipity replied, raising the cup in her hand. “It smells divine.”Corey watched as she slowly raised the cup to her lips, those perfect, soft lips he had been kissing only a few moments ago, and watched her swallow the warm liquid.  He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead with his hand, his elbow leaning on the armrest.“Is everything all right?” Serendipity asked, concern in her voice. She sat the teacup and the rest of the gingerbread man back on the platter and leaned forward in her chair.“Yes, everything is fine,” Corey assured her. “I’m just suddenly very tired.”“Oh, I’m sorry,” Serendipity said, brushing cookie crumbs off of her hands. “Perhaps it would be better if I did stay until tomorrow then. I’d hate to trouble you to take me home when you’re not feeling up to it.”Corey considered her statement for a moment. “I know how badly you’d like to get back.”“Well, I am in a bit of a rush. I do have several dolls that need finishing,” Serendipity admitted. “But if I could just find Pozzletot, I should think I’d be all right to spend the night. That is, if you think your parents wouldn’t mind so much.”“I don’t think they would mind at all,” Corey said.  “However, I do have a guest room myself, if you think you should like to stay here instead. Mr. Waddlebug will be present the whole time, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything… inappropriate.”Serendipity giggled. “I wouldn’t be worried about anything like that, what with you dozing off in the armchair.”Corey laughed, though he wasn’t sure why he was suddenly feeling quite so tired. Perhaps it was the stress of the day.  “Shall we go into the kitchen and see if you can find your mouse friend there?”“Oh, yes!” Serendipity exclaimed, practically leaping from the chair.  Laughing at her exuberance, Corey followed her, standing clear of the mistletoe as he pushed the door open for her to make her way into the kitchen.  “What a lovely flower!” Serendipity cried, eyeing the frozen poinsettia on the counter. “What is it?”“It is a frozen poinsettia,” he replied, “a rare flower that blooms only in the North Pole.”“Is it magical?” she asked reaching out to delicately touch the smooth surface of the bloom.“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Corey admitted. “Though I wouldn’t be too surprised. It was a gift from the Snow Queen.”“The Snow Queen?” Serendipity asked, turning to face him.  “Like in the book by Hans Christian Anderson?”Corey leaned against the counter next to her, a consternated look upon his handsome face. “I’m not sure of that either,” he replied. “I’m not familiar with that story.”“Really?” Serendipity gasped in surprise. “Oh, you simply must read it. My father used to read it to me all the time. It’s all about how the Snow Queen lived way up in the Alps. Many suitors came to call, but each time she let the goblins devour them, until one handsome hunter comes a calling and…”“He melts her frozen heart?”“Yes, but then the goblins get him, too, and he dies.”“Lovely story,” Corey said, rolling his eyes.“Oh, but it is; it really is. Especially at the end when the Snow Queen becomes a woman and realizes that there is nothing more important in the world than true love--nothing.”Corey looked into her icy blue eyes just then and realized what she was saying was true.  “Serendipity,” he said quietly. “There’s something you need to know.”“What’s that?” she asked releasing the flower to give him her full attention.“You can’t leave,” Corey replied, touching her lightly on the arm.Serendipity held his gaze for a long moment before looking away. “I have to…” she whispered.“No, you can’t,” he said again, reaching up to touch the soft skin of her cheek. “I can’t be without you….”“Oh, Corey,” Serendipity sighed, placing her hand over his. “Let’s not think on it just now, all right?  We can talk about it again tomorrow.  For now, let us just find Pozzletot and get some rest.”Stroking her cheek one last time, Corey nodded his head, releasing her.Serendipity smiled fondly and then said, “Now, wherever is that silly little mouse?”As she began to scour the baseboards, Corey sighed deeply again.  At least, for now, she had agreed to stay. If he could continue to prolong her willingness to stay just one day at a time, soon she would forget that she ever wanted to leave in the first place.
And then, the Snow Queen’s potion wouldn’t make any difference at all. She’d be staying with him because she wanted to, not because she was forced to.