Spirits of Christmas

By Kate Hill

On Christmas Eve twenty-five years ago, a brutal murder was committed at the house where Christa Wild works as a live-in maid. When the other servants leave for the holiday this year she stays behind, hoping that any spirits dwelling there will help her regain the psychic power she lost. She’s surprised when the intriguing but disturbed owner of the house appears several days before Christmas.

Action star Joel Connor has kept a terrible secret for most of his life. Despite his success as an athlete and actor, he is plagued by flashbacks of a gruesome attack that destroyed his family. This Christmas, Joel returns to the house where it happened to face the ghosts of the past, but finds he is not alone.

Joel and Christa are instantly attracted, but will his psychological state prevent them from finding peace and love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Nov 28, 2019

Kate Hill

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who started writing many years ago for pleasure. When she's not writing, she enjoys reading, watching horror and action movies, working out, and spending time with her family and pets. She also writes under the name Saloni Quinby.

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Prologue

Christmas Eve, 1883

Jude Wild finished tying the ribbon on the wooden rocking horse he’d made for his youngest daughter. He stepped back to glance at the arrangement of colorfully wrapped gifts beneath the Christmas tree. Even more beautiful than the delicate ornaments was his wife, Ruth. She knelt, arranging the last of the gifts. Sitting back on her heels, she smiled at him.

I can’t wait until tomorrow to watch the children unwrap their gifts.

I’m looking forward to it, but tonight, we can give each other an early gift -- one that will hopefully pass on to many future Wilds. Jude wiggled his eyebrows.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she smiled. Your mind is always in the same place.

It’s hard not to think about the bedroom, being married to you.

Yes, but tonight is about far more than physical love. It’s about the connection between two people whose souls are like one.

I know that, Ruth. Our love will last beyond our physical bodies. It’s for all time.

Ruth rose and slid her arms around his neck. Do you realize this is the first Christmas Eve in quite some time that we haven’t been threatened by some sort of evil?

He placed a fingertip to her lips. Shh. We don’t want to tempt fate. Not tonight. Jude kissed her, holding her tight.

Closing her eyes, Ruth lost herself in his kiss. Even when he swept her into his arms, he didn’t break it. He carried her to their room and placed her on the bed. Looming over her, he gazed at her lush curves beneath her pale green dress. Thickly lashed hazel eyes smoldering with desire stared at him. Before meeting Ruth, he had been a reckless youth, eager to use his warrior witch powers. Ruth, a powerful witch herself, had tempered him -- taught him to use his brain along with his brawn. She had proved to him that the best reason to fight evil was to protect those he loved.

Is something wrong? She reached up to caress his face.

Not at all. I was just thinking how much I love you.

She smiled. I love you, too, and I hope our children and their children after for generations find the love we share.

So do I. Jude kissed her again before rising to light the candles they had placed around the room earlier.

Ruth stood and lit incense. They faced each other, joined hands, and softly chanted. For several weeks, they had worked on this blessing -- one that would pass their love down to future generations of Wilds. It was a way for them to share the gift of their union with their family long after they were gone.

Jude kissed Ruth again and guided her toward the bed. He nudged her onto it and gently rolled her onto her stomach. He unfastened the buttons on the back of her dress, unwrapping her like a gift -- she and their children were the greatest gifts he had ever received.

When she rolled over to lie naked on her back, he stepped away to quickly shed his clothes before slipping into Ruth’s waiting arms. She kissed him and clung to him, her warm, firm body pressed close to his. She stroked his chest, curling her fingers in the dusting of hair that covered it.

Jude ran his hands over her. He cupped her smooth, fleshy bottom. It felt incredible, even after years together.

Nuzzling his neck, she reached down to wrap her hand around his erection. Already aroused, it didn’t take long for him to rise to full mast.

Oh, Ruth. He groaned and pressed her deeper into the mattress. Caressing her inner thighs, he buried his lips against her shoulder.

Jude. She panted, spreading her legs so that he could stroke her easily. His fingers explored her warm, wet passage. He had to taste her.

Her soft skin teased his lips as he kissed his way down her body. He paused at her breasts to knead and suck them. Ruth gasped and arched, thrusting against him. He continued leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach until he grasped her bottom and covered her swollen, sensitive nub with his mouth. He teased it with his lips and flicked his tongue over it until she cried out softly, convulsing in throes of pleasure.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Jude covered her body with his and filled her slowly. Enveloped by her soaked, throbbing flesh, he paused, his hands braced on either side of her head, and enjoyed their connection for a lingering moment. Then his body demanded more. He thrust over and over, pushing her to a second climax. Just as she reached it, he joined her, spilling into her.

Ruth clung to him, welcoming him.

Warmed by their love, they lay snug in each other’s arms.

* * *

We had some wonderful holidays, didn’t we? Jude Wild’s spirit reached out to his wife’s. They had shared their mortal life, and now their spirits would always be together.

Wanting to pass on their happiness to their descendants, they had placed a blessing on their land in New Hampshire. Any Wild who crossed paths with their soulmate on the property spent happy lives together. Most recently, it had brought the Wilds two powerful allies in the battle against supernatural evil -- a battle that might soon turn to war.

We were lucky, Ruth said. Some people aren’t as fortunate, like the young man our Christa is destined to meet.

What happened to him proves that humans can be as evil as any supernatural beast. He has been dealing with a different kind of demon.

He and Christa can help each other, if they open their hearts.

It’s not your Christa’s heart that worries me. Those words came from another spirit -- that of twenty-nine-year-old Allan Clark. He and the spirit of his wife, Patsy, hovered nearby.

She’ll find a way to reach your son, Ruth assured them. Christa has that kind of soul.

Jackson -- I mean Joel -- doesn’t understand, Allan said. He needs to accept the past so that he doesn’t make the mistakes I did. If I could only talk to him.

He isn’t ready yet, Patsy reminded him.

Allan, I understand your frustration, but these things can take time, Jude agreed. It’s only recently that we’ve been able to contact our descendants. Spirits can’t get through to everyone at will, otherwise mortal death wouldn’t be such a sad thing for those left behind.

I fear for our son, Patsy said. But I know he’s strong.

Ruth sent waves of spiritual comfort to Patsy -- mother to mother. He’ll be a powerful ally, but even more important, he’ll love and support Christa, and she’ll do the same for him. They both deserve that.

Jude’s spirit flickered anxiously. If only our family’s magic had called them to the cabin.

Cabin or not, if two souls are meant to find each other, it will happen, Ruth said. Now, until we’re able to reach them, all we can do is watch.

Chapter One

Frost created intricate shapes on the window overlooking the snow-covered front yard of the spacious suburban house where Christa worked. For the past month, she’d been a live-in maid, even though it wasn’t her real vocation -- or it least it hadn’t been until an accident changed her path in life. Maybe changed wasn’t accurate. She intended to return to her former profession, but before she could do that, she needed to either recapture the gift she’d lost or reinvent herself. Each