Santa's Unfinished Business: A Cassiel Clarke Mystery, #1

By Chrissy Wissler

Cass wakes up seconds before her phone rings. Not her landline but her cell—the one she'd purposefully left in the living room. The one now currently nestled underneath her pillow, happily playing the "Ghostbusters" song.

Gran calling—of course. Gran, who always needs helps, always someone to drive her to some creepy cemetery or place with a restless spirit—or three. The kinda places that stop Cass cold. Real cold. Like seeing dead kinda cold.

Cass wants nothing to do with the family business.

The family business, however, wants everything to do with her.

"Santa's Unfinished Business," the first story in the Cassiel Clarke mystery series. The perfect blend of sass, a sprinkling of spice, and a whole lot'a ghost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Cedar Publishing
• Release date: Nov 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386929505

Chrissy Wissler

Chrissy’s short fiction has appeared in the anthologies: Fiction River: Risk-Takers, Fiction River Presents: Legacies, Fiction River Presents: Readers' Choice, Deep Magic, and When Dreams Come True (writing as Christen Anne Kelley). She writes fantasy and science fiction, as well as a softball, contemporary series for both romance and young adult (Little League Series and Home Run). Before turning to fiction, Chrissy also wrote many nonfiction articles for publications such as Montana Outdoors, Women in the Outdoors, and Jakes Magazine. In 2009, Inside Kung Fu magazine awarded her with their ‘Writer of the Year’ award. Follow her blog on being a parent-writer at Parents and Prose.

Book preview

Santa’s Unfinished Business

Santa’s Unfinished Business

A Cassiel Clarke Story

Chrissy Wissler

Blue Cedar Publishing

Contents

Santa’s Unfinished Business

An Impatient Forest. One Stubborn Girl.

Also by Chrissy Wissler

Sneak Peak: Hidden in Time

About the Author

Santa’s Unfinished Business

My eyes snapped open seconds before the phone rang. Not my landline, but my cell. A cell I'd purposefully left in the living room, which I did every damn night.

The thought usually would have stopped me cold. A sweat breaking out along my forehead, the kind that sticks to my long blond hair turning into a tangled mess. Oh, then of course followed by the sudden terror I'm way too familiar with.

Terror because cell's don't get up, walk on their own, and transplant themselves into my bedroom. See, this was the kind of thing that got my blood pumping and a scream building in my throat.

I squeezed my eyes closed and pulled my quilt up until it reached my chin. The phone's ringtone—Ghostbusters—kept pounding away, relentless, never-ending.

And it wouldn't end. Not when Gran was calling.

I reached under my pillow and sure enough, there was my cell. I snapped it open just to make the music stop. Gran, I was sleeping.

Of course you were. What the hell else would you be doing at two o'clock in the morning?

That's what time it was? Christ, no wonder it felt like I'd been run over by a truck with Rudolph's nose shining on the grill.

Cassiel.

I ground my teeth. Look. I'm tired and I'm going to sleep. Goodbye, Grandma.

I need your help.

Gran always needed my help. Okay, she needed my help only when Nick wasn't around, and what do I do every single time?

I hung up.

Not that I actually expected to be left alone, to fall back to my dream world of roses, sunshine, and the spring season I was positive was on its way, bursting through the wintery December snows. I won't even mention the handsome, not at all dark and mysterious stranger offering me said red roses.

Oh, yes, it was a good dream.

My dreams, I'll have you know, never, ever, have anything to do with Gran or the family business.

The phone rang again.

I didn't answer.

It didn't matter. The call picked up on its own and Gran's cutting, cranky voice cut through the wonderful silence of my tiny, barely considered two bedroom house.

I need you to drive.

"I'm not driving you