A Christmas to Die For by Black M P

Author:Black, M P [Black, M P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788794457149
Google: u6bpEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: MP Black Media
Published: 2023-12-17T18:34:49+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Back in Blithedale, Alice opened Wonderland Books in time to let Mr. and Mrs. Oriel inside. The Oriels were an older couple who, in their matching glasses and clothes, looked oddly identical. Alice liked them—if all couples were as compatible, the world would be a better place.

“Looking for something in particular?” she asked.

Mrs. Oriel put a hand on her arm and leaned close, speaking in a confidential tone. “I’m looking for something dark and stormy.”

“You mean like a gothic novel?”

Mr. Oriel jumped in. “She means something hot and spicy.”

“A romance?”

They both nodded.

Mrs. Oriel said, “We’ve been reading Clyde Digby’s books, and let me tell you⁠—”

“They may not leave you with lingering intellectual questions…” Mr. Oriel said.

“But they keep the bed warm,” Mrs. Oriel said with a wink.

Mr. Oriel nodded, a boyish grin on his face, and suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands. He settled on shoving them into his pockets.

“Well, all right,” Alice said, and after a few minutes of looking through her selection of romance novels with the Oriels, sent the couple out into the frigid weather with a bagful of hot novels.

Alice loved the thousands of ways that books affected people. Stories made them happy, and sad, and curious—and, yes, even aroused.

And cozy, too, of course.

After last night’s adventures and this morning’s visit to Tilbury Town, she was glad to be back among her books. Some people needed alcohol or a particular blanket or bathrobe for comfort, but for her, nothing could beat a room full of books.

She restocked her shelves and sorted through more donations. There were fewer in the box today, no doubt because of the stormy weather yesterday. She flipped through books, dipping into the texts, reading a page and savoring the words, then sampling another story.

She picked up a collection of Christmas poems and read one by Christina Rossetti that began,

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

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