Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“La-di-da-di-da-di-da.”
The forest came alive. Deer peeked their noses out. Their eyes glowed while they watched me. The ice melted under my feet. The wind picked up. The trees slowly swayed from side to side, their branches dropping clumps of snow with the movements.
Then, the impossible happened and there was no need to call the cops or run away.
I’m losing my mind.
Giggling, ice mermaids swam in front of me. They dove into the snow, disappeared, and rose on the other side. Snow rippled on the ground like water. Blue glass shimmered on their tails. They laughed at each other and splashed ice at me.
No more wine.
Stomping came from the side.
I backed up.
Santa raced my way. His belly jiggled. His beard was a waterfall slushing, constantly dripping, reforming, and slipping away to the ground and reappearing at his face. Meadow had put pennies for his eyes. Those coins burned fiery red as he passed by me.
“Come here, little ones,” Santa roared. His voice sliced through the air. “Come. I want to see what’s under those tails.” A loud chuckle left him.
Well, at least he’s jolly.
Giggling, they swam faster and he raced after them far off toward a hill and then over it. My legs shook. Somewhere in between seeing the mermaids and Santa, I’d dropped the wine bottle. Red liquid stained the snow in front of me and formed into an image of burgundy wings. I wished I could pick them up, put them on my back, and fly the hell out of here.
And then that deep male voice brushed against my skin. “Faith.”
I shivered at the sound. It was the same person that whispered to me earlier today.
“Faith.”
My fingers shook.
I turned around.
Words caught in my throat. I opened my mouth and couldn’t speak. I should’ve ran off and called the cops, but what would I have said?
My snowman stood in front of me, blinking those sapphire eyes. Remy had long lashes. His face was god-like in perfection, a blue glow of flesh, sculpted lips, a flawless harmony of delicate ice carved into sensual gaze. His skin glowed, but appeared like pale human flesh—so soft, even though stretched over hard muscle.
Speaking of hard.
I lowered my gaze to the cock that hung between his legs. Thick and bright white. Long and full at the mushroomed tip.
I don’t remember putting that there.
I licked my lips. Burning desire swarmed all over me.
This is a dream. I’m sleeping on the ground outside, I guess. Okay. Dream or not. I’m having sex with him. It’s been a long time. And I . . .what am I saying?
My stiff nipples poked against my shirt. Sweat trickled down my forehead. I took off my sweater. My head was a little fuzzy from the wine. I breathed and stayed in the moment, not thinking too far ahead. If I did, I would go mad. I would run away, pulling my hair, and babbling about swimming ice mermaids.
The snowman smiled at me. “Faith?”
“This is a dream.”
“No.” He stepped toward me. “You’re not dreaming.”
And then I found the strength to run. My feet no longer stayed rooted to the ground. I’d finally scared myself enough to book it out of there. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. Panic raced through my ribcage like a sports car speeding down the highway.
Bang-boom.
Bang-boom.
I raced out of there, rushed up the steps, snatched the door open, slammed it behind me, locked the knob, and collapsed to the floor.
What. The. Fuck?
Chapter 4
Faith
“M
om, I’m not playing!” The phone shook in my hand. “The snow man came alive and the mermaids—”
“And Santa wanted to get laid?” Mom laughed.
“They’re all alive!” I peeked from behind the curtain and stared out of the window.
The snowman had sat next to the burned-out logs and wine-stained snow. As soon as I slid the curtain to the side, he turned his face in my direction. Those sapphire eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
Ahhh!!
Shivering, I whispered into the phone. “He’s watching me.”
“Santa?”
“No, Mom. The snowman.”
“I thought you said his name was Remy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I pushed the curtain back. “I think it might’ve been him whispering that to me earlier today.”
“So, he must be French.”
“Jesus, none of that matters. Why are there living snow creatures outside of my house?”
“Because you carved them, baby. You’re that good.”
“What?”
“And I’m sure you’ve broken the emergency glass and pulled out that joint you’ve been keeping hidden from all of us for weeks.”
“I don’t smoke anything.”
“I know my baby smokes. At least it wasn’t those nasty cigarettes.”
“I don’t smoke. Can we get back to the demons that have taken over the snow—”
“If they were demons, you would be dead.”
My heart hammered inside my chest. “What?”
“If. . .and this is a big if—”
“What’s an if, Mom, get on with it?!”
“If you really see snow people coming to life—”
“I do!”
“Then that means you’ve got some real power over there and maybe they have power too. But you’re not dead so things are good. Just take each moment in and let God show you what he’s trying to show you.”