A Very Krampy Christmas: Gretchen's (Mis)Adventures Season One

By P.A. Mason

Christmas Eve is never a good time to have the sheriff come by after dark, and after Gretchen protests her innocence, it's up to her to clean up Edgewater's Krampus plague.

 

Demonic cleanup is witch business, after all. Baffled at the swarm of pint-sized Christmas tricksters, Gretchen must find out who is behind the summoning so she can banish the horde. The town is a mess, families are hiding in the local tavern, and Gretchen is freezing her backside off as she tries fruitlessly to come up with a plan.

 

But if she doesn't fix the krampus problem, she will have ruined Christmas in the eyes of the townsfolk. And all she'd wanted was a quiet night in.

 

An old friend, a new friend, and a magical solution of epic proportions will save the day.

 

The question is whether the village will be grateful or livid at the colossal damage bill come morning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P.A. Mason
• Release date: Mar 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393082088

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Mulligan dumped a fat rat on Gretchen’s boots as she rubbed his furry cheek and crooned. And who said you were past your prime, eh? That rodent is just about the size of you!

Her purple feline familiar purred, and that close to the solstice, Gretchen could sense the smug sense of satisfaction rolling off him in waves.

And I haven’t forgotten you, either. Come and see.

Gretchen pulled a wrapped bundle from under the Christmas tree and dropped into an armchair to unwrap it. Mulligan clambered onto her lap and poked at the shreds of paper as Gretchen tore them away, revealing a snug, knitted pillow and a stoppered jar filled with jerky.

Yup. Got it in one, old boy. Your favorite. Dried pixie liver.

Mulligan nosed the cork and Gretchen popped it open to scatter a portion on her lap. Mulligan crunched away, and Gretchen smiled as she stroked his back.

Christmas Eve held a special place in her heart—a night witches traditionally spent trading gifts with their familiars around the fireplace and renewing their shared bond. With the solstice came more finely attuned awareness of one another, and trading feelings and thoughts held the magical bind between witch and familiar more closely.

A quiet night in was something Gretchen was more inclined to as the years passed, and she reminisced on the time she and Mulligan spent together. Back when he was a kitten, he got into a scrap with Aunt Esme’s Pricilla on Christmas Eve over a toad and got a nasty swipe for his troubles. Gretchen had spent the better part of the night in the garden helping him catch a lizard to save face.

Mulligan looked up from his treat to give her an unimpressed look, and she ruffled his fuzzy head. Oh, come on! It was cute. Don't you wish you had a kitten you could boss around?

He shook his head and flicked spittle into Gretchen’s face. She wiped it away with a grimace and went to stand.

Ick. If it’s gonna be like that, I’ll get started on the rat now.

In truth, rats weren’t particularly useful when it came to witchcraft, but she knew her familiar would sulk if she didn’t make a fuss. She picked up the creature by the tail to carry it out to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of mulled wine. Mulligan scrambled up on the counter, and Gretchen tried to mask her thoughts. The effort on his part to jump above anything hip height was a little concerning. Perhaps she should start sneaking some herbs into his breakfast.

Hmm, this one has a lovely fat tail. Gretchen reached for her cleaver and lopped it off. She’d already prepared a pickling jar that afternoon, figuring Mulligan would bring vermin, and dropped the tail in. And the gizzards will do nicely for a divination spell.

Mulligan sat staring at the present as Gretchen took what was of use for preserving. After she was done and had sliced the choicer bits for Mulligan’s dinner, she stowed the jar on the top shelf of the cellar next to similar presents from years past. She locked the cellar on the way out—there was a long-held agreement between the pair that Mulligan couldn’t be trusted with Gretchen’s stores of pickled liver—and poured a saucer of cream. She sank to a chair by the fire, and propped her feet as she looked out the window, wondering when the snow would come in for the season.

The townsfolk would rejoice over a white Christmas, and despite the bother, Gretchen enjoyed waking up to white-gilded garden. They could all use an extra special Christmas, Gretchen mused, particularly after the events in the labyrinth that had broken Jurgen’s heart. While the publican troll seemed less like the walking dead as weeks passed, both Gretchen and Nora still worried over him. They’d planned an extra special feast at The Salt and Bog to mark the occasion, and at least his grumbling had turned to what gastronomical delights he would prepare on the day.

A flicker of wariness crossed Gretchen’s mind, and she turned with a frown to Mulligan, who stood alert watching the door. It was a few seconds later that she heard crunching up her gravel path, and she was up out of her seat, wondering who the heck would be visiting at that hour, when she swung the door open. Sheriff Norris stood on her threshold, glowering, with the mayor just a step behind.

Sheriff, Gretchen grunted. She hadn’t seen the lawman since he sent a letter of complaint to the academy, and she’d been meaning to give him a piece of her mind. I hope you’re not here because of the cauldron in the town square. I’ll have it picked up tomorrow. Jurgen’s cart had a busted axle, and—

Told you she would deny it, Sheriff Norris spat over his shoulder at the mayor. The woman is a public nuisance. It’s well past time—

"Deny what? Gretchen bunched her fists at her side and curled her lip. What kind of fabricated nonsense have you come up with now?"

The sheriff’s eyes flared, but the mayor stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Edgewater has been plagued by krampuses. Are you telling us you aren’t responsible?

Gretchen’s jaw dropped, and she glanced between the pair, wondering if this was some kind of elaborate joke. A krampus? Of course not!

Splendid, the mayor clapped his hands together and sighed. You can clean them up then. We must get rid of them before they do any more damage.

Gretchen’s