Magic, Miracles & Mistletoe

By Diane Majeske

This novella offers three short stories filled with Christmas spirit, each as warm and comforting as hot tea on a cold day.

Meet Melanie, the Christmas angel who awakens the night before Christmas to find herself without a Christmas tree - and in a household in desperate need of holiday cheer. It'll take one determined angel, a mischievous elf and more than a few lively ornaments to put things right before Christmas morning.

Then there's Kate, the small-town librarian who's certain that life stopped when she lost her fiance. But Christmas is a magical time, and pragmatic Kate is soon to find that a trip home for Christmas may end up taking a very otherworldly direction.

Finally, there's Jim, an architect who's now realizing he devoted his life to business, not family. It'll take a voice from the past to awaken a long-lost passion and start building bridges - this time, with gingerbread.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diane Majeske
• Release date: Dec 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465853844

Diane Majeske

Author Diane Majeske was a full-time staffer in newspapers for more than 15 years, serving as an award-winning reporter, editor and columnist until she couldn't take any more bad coffee or late nights.She now lives in Michigan with her husband, two children, an overweight cat and a new dog, courtesy of the local humane society. He is huge, but thinks he's a lap dog.Majeske recently released "Mom Tales," a collection of funny, non-fiction essays on parenting.

Book preview

Magic, Miracles & Mistletoe

By Diane Majeske

Copyright 2011 by Diane Majeske

Smashwords Edition

This novella is dedicated to my family. Without them there’d be no magic at all.

Cover art designed by J.D. Stroube at Dreamscape Covers

http://www.dreamscapecovers.com

Ornamental Escapades

Martha Tanner pulled back on the box of ornaments, ignoring the persistent ache in her upper arms. So close. Just a few more inches, and it would slide loose from its precarious perch. She pulled, hard.

The box came free with a jerk, the sudden release knocking Martha backwards.

Oh, my goodness! she breathed as she started to tumble. She could feel herself falling, tried to catch herself, her arm flailing behind her as she fell. Stubbornly, she kept her arm tightly clasped around the white oblong box.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! called Peter, her husband, climbing the steps by two to reach his wife in time. Just before her bottom hit the hallway, he caught her under her arms, lessening the impact considerably. He eased her slowly to the floor; she looked up at him gratefully.

Thanks, honey, she said, putting a hand over her heart to catch her breath. That was a close one!

She stretched her back. She was sore, more sore than she wanted to admit, far more uncomfortable than she’d ever tell Peter. She was happy she hadn’t fallen. Lord knows what would have happened then. Gracious. She’d probably have broken a hip, become an old person stereotype, earned the wrath of their two children.

Gloria and Tim always were after both their parents to settle down, to do less, to … Martha didn’t even finish the thought. She knew what they wanted. They wanted the two of them to move to … well … Martha’s eyes rolled even as the words formed in her mind … a retirement community. Her lips pursed.

No thank you, she said out loud. Thank you very much.

Her husband smiled at her. What’s that, sweetie?

She looked at him fondly. He probably didn’t have his hearing aid turned up. He sometimes forgot about things like that in the evening, when his head had been buried in a book.

I just said, ‘Let’s take a break,’ she said to him, holding out her hand for a little help up.

The elderly couple held hands all the way to the kitchen, breaking the clasp only when Peter sat down at the table to squint at the newspaper in front of him.

Martha took a cup from the cupboard and put on the teakettle, then moved over to stand by Peter’s side. She gazed around the house thoughtfully, a hand on his shoulder. It was a good house, a sturdy house, one that offered all they needed and more.

It was just ….bare.

Peter looked up. What is it? he said. What’s wrong? It was like he could read her mind. Not surprising after nearly 50 years of marriage, she thought with affection.

Martha sighed. It’s just … it’s just this house, she said. It just doesn’t feel like Christmas here this year.

Peter patted her hand. Oh, I know, I know, he said. You’re still upset that the kids can’t come until the holiday, but you know they can’t help that. Gloria told you that …

She interrupted him. It’s not that, Peter, she said. You know it’s not that.

Peter looked vaguely upset. That bothered her, upsetting him. She knew he was trying to remember exactly what was bothering her, and remembering was getting a little harder these days. She didn’t want him to have to