A Fate Filled Christmas Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  Titles by Cheyenne Meadows

  Reviews

  A Silver Publishing Book

  A Fate Filled Christmas

  Copyright © 2013 by Cheyenne Meadows

  E-book ISBN: 9781622321018

  First E-book Publication: December 2013

  Cover design by Reese Dante

  Editor: Jason Huffman

  Logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  This book is written in US English.

  PUBLISHER

  www.SPSilverPublishing.com

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  Thank you for not pirating our titles.

  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

  Dedication

  For everyone who still believes in Santa and Christmas miracles.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Donald Duck: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Playboy Channel: Playboy Enterprises

  Super Bowl: National Football League Unincorporated Association

  Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting Inc.

  WonderBra: Canadelle Limited Partnership of Canada / HanesBrands Inc.

  Chapter 1

  Rye ran a hand through his errant locks and yawned. Eight am. A bit later than normal to climb out of bed, but he reveled in the rare opportunity.

  He and Brie had both had long, hard days the day before, arriving home later than usual. Thankfully they had the day to recuperate before hitting the time clock again in the morning, typical odd schedules in their choice of careers. Brie worked as a nurse doing twelve hour day shifts. As a detective with the local police, he normally pulled ten hour days, but the number and severity of cases easily changed those hours.

  Ambling down the hall, he paused and took in the sight, a slow smile appearing on his face. Brie stood in the kitchen, presently bent over searching through the pan and skillet cabinet, giving him an excellent view of her heart-shaped rear. Even dressed in baggy sweats with her hair haphazardly pulled into a ponytail and without a lick of makeup on her face, she exuded sexiness.

  She kept his libido on steady idle, waiting for a look, a glance, a subtle body movement, any indication she saw him as the man to address her needs. Then his engine cranked into high gear, full blown arousal in seconds. Just like right now.

  Moving quietly, he sidled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle, drawing her back to rest against his bare chest. Loose sweats covered his lower half, allowing room for his quickly growing erection. Lazily, he nibbled her delicate earlobe.

  "Good morning, beautiful."

  "Hello, handsome." She leaned into him, her hands resting on top of his.

  Boldly, he freed one hand in order to cup her breast under her shirt, flicking his thumb over the raspberry nipple as he nuzzled the side of her neck. "I'm hungry."

  "I was getting ready to fix pancakes." Her whispery voice brushed over his nerves, adding to his sexual wanting.

  "No. I'm hungry for something else." He licked the side of her neck before placing tiny kisses to her shoulder and nape. "You. Naked. Climbing on board for a hot and heavy ride."

  She moaned low, her head lolling back to rest on his shoulder. Taking the hint, he dropped his hand from her breast until he reached the junction between her legs. Rubbing the area, he whispered naughty suggestions against her ear, knowing she heated under his touch.

  A demanding doorbell interrupted their playful exchange.

  "Well, hell," he grumbled, stubbornly holding his position.

  "We have to get that." Brie stood straight, breaking the intimate contact for the moment.

  "I'll get rid of them." Stepping back, he appraised the heavy eyelids and spark in Brie's hazel eyes. "We have unfinished business to attend to this morning. Important business." His tone dropped to a husky purr. "Really important."

  Ding. Dong.

  Brie flashed him an impish smile. "Are you going to answer the door or not?"

  As much as he wanted to ignore the summons, he dared not. Whoever decided to call on them so early in the morning would persist until they answered, no matter how much he wished them away.

  Tamping down on his lust, Rye strolled over, running images of hairy-backed men through his head. Unsettling and a huge turn off, but exactly what he needed if he was going to answer the door without tented pants. Flipping the lock, he opened the door.

  "Jane. Thelma. Come on in." He gestured toward the living room. Once they stood inside, he closed the door behind them. "What brings you two by?"

  Brie grinned at her neighbors. "Hi."

  Thelma, the taller of the two, and bustier, held up an item. "We're selling calendars to raise money for the charities supported by the Women's League for Charity. Would you like to buy one?" Her silver hair glowed in the morning light, bringing attention to her deep purple outfit. In all honesty, she resembled a plump grape.

  Rye shrugged and plucked his wallet from the dining room table. "Sure. Anything for charity. How much?"

  "Ten dollars."

  He shelled out the money, then tossed his wallet back to the wooden table.

  "Thank you." Jane smiled and handed over the purchase. "By the way, what do you think about posing nude for charity?" A bit shorter and marginally leaner, Jane's blue-tinted gray hair
matched her blue sweater and slacks. Mischief sparked in her eyes.

  Rye smiled widely, his back straightened as his chin lifted in pride. He worked hard to stay in shape and it paid off in dividends at times.

  "Well, ladies, I'm flattered. Thinking of making me the centerfold next year?" Posing in the buff would be something kinky and a lot of fun, especially if Brie stood behind the camera. Oh, how he could tease and flirt, turn her into jelly with just a few come hither looks…

  "Oh, no, dear." Jane waved her hand. "We're not looking for models. I just wanted to get your opinion."

  His detective instincts rushed to the fore. How odd for a pair of little old ladies to ask such a question, then claim vague reasons. Of course, they were the nosey neighbors, hip and outgoing, intent upon staying up on the latest gossip and passing the juicy bits around.

  Thelma pointed toward the calendar in his hands. "Aren't you going to look at the pictures? We're really proud of them."

  Brie stepped closer. "Did you guys take the pictures, then put the calendar together?"

  "Something like that."

  Staring momentarily at the pretty pink rose on the front, Rye opened the cover and blinked.

  "Holy shit." He gaped at a picture of an elderly woman, thankful he didn't recognize her, in all her splendid glory. While not distasteful, the striking pose accentuated all her parts. Wrinkles, sags, and all. Automatically, he flipped through a couple more pages before landing on the centerfold. Sure enough, an all too familiar Thelma reclined totally nude across white satin sheets, rose petals dotting the bedding. I so didn't need to see that.

  Brie gasped loudly.

  He blinked and tried desperately to get the image out of his head before it stuck like Super Glue. Dreams of a nude Thelma were sure to haunt him for the next few nights.

  "So what do you think?" Thelma asked.

  "It's nice. Pretty." He stammered over the words. What could he say? It's scary? I'm now blind? Something about gray hair down there turns me off?

  Jane jumped into the conversation. "I noticed your plumbing is back to working."

  He glanced up, bumfuzzled. "Huh?" Immediately, he looked down at his groin, praying his morning boner had vanished before his size and abilities dominated the conversation. Thankfully, his sweats fit perfectly, no stiff log jutting out. Instead of torturing myself with hairy men, I could have just looked at a couple of calendar pictures and had the same effect.

  "You and Brie. In the kitchen last night. Looked like your plumbing is all fixed right up." Jane winked at Brie. "Got your world rocked, huh?"

  Brie's face colored crimson. Rye rolled his eyes. Leave it to Brie to have neighbors who not only visited way too often but also spied on them in their own home.

  "My plumbing was never a problem," he grumbled under his breath. A few months back, the elderly ladies labeled him impotent when they stumbled across Brie in possession of a sex toy she'd never used. Afterward, everyone on the block looked at him askance as if pondering the truth to Thelma and Jane's story.

  Thelma nodded. "Oh, I see. It was in your head all along. That happens a lot, I hear. Men are such sensitive buds, their egos easily bruised. I guess you were worried you weren't skilled enough to please such a beautiful lady like Brie here. Or maybe you had concerns you weren't big enough compared to other men." She tapped her fingers over her lips. "Understandable considering the size of her BOB thing. Size does matter, after all."

  Rye sucked in a breath and choked on his own spit. After a couple of hard coughs and fist pounds on his chest, he stared at the women, determined to set them straight once and for all.

  "I…"

  Jane shushed him. "If it takes a pill to keep your flagpole at attention, so be it. There are worse things in life."

  Thelma concurred.

  "Like seeing naked old ladies' pictures before nine am," he muttered, only to receive a sharp elbow to the ribs from Brie. "Umph."

  "Brie, dear. Hold onto this one." The taller of the two ladies advised. "He seems like a keeper and has a great ass to boot." She patted his rear.

  He frowned and rolled his eyes. It was one thing for them to insult his sexual abilities, another to be felt up. Sidestepping, he shook his head. The only woman he wanted fondling his rear stood nearby with a wicked grin on her face.

  His Brie radar pinged. She was up to something. Again.

  "Bye, dear." Jane waved once more, then hurried out the front door after Thelma.

  Rye shut the door behind them, still not quite sure what other dimension had opened and sucked him in. "Can you believe them? I'm not sure, but I just might be blind."

  Brie shook her finger at him. "Be nice. Besides, Santa is listening. You don't want to be put on his bad list, do you?"

  "Santa? Really?" He grinned at his teasing roommate. "While I haven't believed in the man or his helpers since second grade, I just might have something for naughty girls."

  She tilted her head as her lips twitched. "I happen to be a nice girl, thank you very much."

  "That works, too." With a wicked grin, he scooped her up in his arms, chuckling when she squealed and clung to his neck as if he would drop her otherwise. Like he would do such a thing. "Shall we head to the bedroom and see who's been naughty or nice?"

  "Only if you refrain from calling me naughty."

  "Deal."

  Chapter 2

  "Rye? There's an elf here to see you."

  Swiveling around in his seat, Rye stared at Gary, completely bewildered. "An elf?"

  "Yep."

  Intrigued, Rye stood up and walked to the front desk. There he found a vertically-challenged man dressed in all-green spandex wearing a hat with a large jingle bell attached to the tip. The man's shoes resembled ballet slippers, matching the rest of his outfit in the same bright pine color. "You wanted to see me?"

  "Are you Rye Taylor?"

  "Yes."

  The man glanced around before shuffling closer. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

  Arching an eyebrow, Rye gestured to his left. "First office should be empty." Without preamble, he led the way, waited for the man to enter the room, then shut the door behind them both. Plopping down in a metal chair on the back side of a white table, he waited for the oddly dressed man to do the same before speaking. "Now, what is it you want to see me about?"

  "Couple of things. First, I have a lead you might be interested in checking out."

  "Such as?"

  "Would you be interested in a ton of cocaine stashed in a house nearby and owned by a bigwig in the drug enterprise?" The little guy shrugged and stared at his nails as if he were simply discussing the weather.

  "I'm listening." Rye leaned forward, grabbed a pencil and paper, and prepared to take notes. Even if the guy was pulling his leg, he had to check out any and all possibilities of illegal drugs.

  "First and Elm. Old white house on the corner."

  "How do you know this?"

  The informant met his gaze. "I'm an elf. I get around. Hear things. See things."

  Of course, the guy really believed he happened to be an elf. Most likely one of Santa's helpers directly from the North Pole. Never a shortage of odd people in his line of work. Not to mention, it was fruitcake season. Maybe reasoning with facts would help. "Elves are mythical creatures."

  "Do I look like a myth to you?" The man waved at himself. "Who do you think does all the work at the North Pole? Makes all those toys?"

  "Ummm. Whatever your name is…"

  "Jingle."

  Jingle? Why am I not surprised? "Well, Jingle, hate to tell you this, but Santa is a myth, too." Rye ran one hand through his hair and contemplated recommending a good psychologist to the smaller man.

  "Why does the fact you don't believe in Santa surprise me?" Jingle shook his head, sending the bell flopping and chiming merrily. "Good thing I'm in a jolly mood."

  "Do I want to know why?"

  For the first time, Jingle leaned closer, his expression turning downright serious. "
Because I'm also your guardian angel elf."

  Rye's eyes crossed. Leave it to him to be singled out from every other police officer on the force to have a guardian angel elf show up at his doorstep. What in the hell is the world coming to? "I see. And what does a guardian angel elf do?"

  "Give you a helping hand and watch over you."

  Rye nodded. "How long can I expect you to do this service?"

  "Oh, until at least Christmas. Maybe a bit longer. Depending upon when Santa decides to return from vacation and fire up the workshop again."

  "Great."

  "Well, I'm off. Presents to deliver, kids to entertain." Jingle stood and hurried from the room, only pausing to wave. "I'll see ya later."

  "I can't wait." Rye watched the odd visitor leave, then returned to his desk. Grabbing the phone, he called in the tip to the narcotics division. Within an hour, they verified the validity of his tip.

  "The house is loaded. No one home. We're setting up a stakeout tonight. Get an idea who comes and goes. If all goes well, we'll try a major takedown in a day or three," the sergeant in charge of the narcotics division rattled on.

  "I'll be damned." Rye's curiosity only escalated about Jingle and who the man actually was in order to know about such a big operation quietly going about every day business with no one in the area the wiser. Who cared who he was? If he could provide such excellent leads, he'd buy him the next pair of green ballet slippers. After all, good informants were hard to find.

  He headed back toward his desk. "Hey, Rye."

  Turning, he found Tim waving at him from his desk. "Got something for you."

  Ambling over, Rye accepted the plastic bag, opened the top, and pulled the contents out. He stared at what appeared to be identical books. Only he knew better. "Damn. This is excellent work."

  Tim grinned. "My wife knows what she's doing in the print business, probably why she's been in business forever."