Books, Writing

Happy Krampusnacht

Make sure to leave out a glass of Schnapps for the Krampus, or you might get stuffed in his bag.

Who wants an exclusive excerpt from my Son of Krampus book (re-scheduled to arrive next Christmas because life is wild)?


Closing his eyes, Emeric smelled the earthy bitter scent of coffee lingering like ghost trails in the air. He twisted down hallways, passed a bathroom that could also be a possible escape later, and finally stumbled upon a small break room. No one else was setting up shop, but a half pot remained on the machine.

It wasn’t the coffee he was drawn to but the tea, Emeric never having the stomach for such a bitter taste. Bustling about in the blonde wooden cupboards he finally secured a bag of Twinning’s best and a small white cup. As steaming hot water dribbled from the standby coffee maker, he gripped onto the counter and took another lung clearing breath.

Cinnamon. Clove. Orange. Anise.

Myrrh.

His eyes flew open, Emeric spinning his attention over his shoulder. The figure standing limply in the doorway looked like a small nightingale ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. Nadire. Daughter of Saint Nicholas. And the woman he slept with the night before.

“You have some nerve,” she found her tongue quickly, the uncertainty cracking to anger.

“I do?” Emeric pressed a hand to his chest in mock surprise. The woman crossed over the break room floor, her eyes blazing as if she’d been sitting on her thoughts for a while.

“Yes, you! Being the son of the Krampus, bedding me without…”

“Oh, so we are admitting that occurred,” Emeric snickered to himself. “The way you greeted me I assumed I’d imagined it.”

The fire in her face didn’t dampen at his joke, but her prepared speech stumbled. “Maybe I should tell my father what happened. That the man suing him sent his son to seduce secrets from me.”

“Is that what you think?” Emeric chuckled, picking up the wax-coated cup of hot water and bouncing the tea bag in it.

Nadire stretched her arms wide, her face pinching in consternation and what looked like the urge to strangle him. “What other reason could there be?”

Even spitting hot tacks, there was no denying her striking features. She bore the jawline of Nefertiti, eyes of Cleopatra, lips as plush as Aphrodite’s, and the nose was all Saint Nicholas’. He knew he shouldn’t be staring, certainly not at the low cut of her blouse which that Trevor lawyer took his time to plumb as well. Nor at her legs and how her pert ass bounded about as she paced through that room.

“That I met a beautiful woman and wished to sleep with her?” slipped from Emeric’s star-struck tongue. It was so earnest it froze said beauty in her tracks, her cheeks pinking from the thought. “After all,” he tried to walk himself back from the admittance, “it was you who invited yourself to my room. Which you then fled in the morning without so much as a note.”

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