Christmas Stories
Madison's Christmas
Christmas is Madison's favorite holiday, but this year she has to face it alone,without her father and her best friend, amid the problems of running her own high-stakes business and dealing with family issues. Can the spirit of Christmas
lift a heavy heart?
Check it out on Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/lys6yqj
Add it on Goodreads
Excerpt:
MADISON’S CHRISTMAS
By Carol Ann Kauffman
“Madison… you AREcoming to Christmas dinner, aren’t you?” Susan anxiously asked her sister as soon as she answered the phone. “You didn’t return my phone calls…any of them.”
“Suze, please, ask me to do anything else, but not Christmas dinner,” Madison said slowly with a sigh. “I can’t do Christmas this year, not without Dad, not without Bob.”
“Oh, honey, I know. We all miss him. And I know how much you miss Bob. But as cruel as it may sound, life goes on, Sis. Tommy and I have to make Christmas a happy day for our kids, and Trina and Scott want their auntie here. Plus nobody believes in the magic of Christmas like you, little sister.”
“Not this year, Susan.”
“Maddie, please come,” she begged.
“I don’t know, Suze,” she said finally, giving Susan hope.
“Come on Saturday. We’ll bake cookies with Trina and dance around to Christmas music, like we did when we were kids. She’d just love it. We need to make those memories for my daughter. On Sunday, you and I can catch up, get some sisters’ time, and then you’ll be here early on Christmas morning to see the kids open their presents. It’ll be simple Christmas fun. Nothing about this is going to be easy for any of us, but it’ll be easier if we’re together.”
“Not really,” Madison said with a laugh. “If I’m not there, I can just pretend that it’s not Christmas.”
“Really? No radio, no TV, no Christmas carols in the stores? You can’t escape Christmas, Madison.”
“I have a plan. I’ll stay inside, drapes drawn. Piles of DVDs, pajamas, a gallon of Rocky Road, and a spoon.”
“That sounds strangely comforting in a ‘hermit in a cave’ kind of way, but Maddie… I need you here.” Madison knew Susan had a rough year as well, and Christmas with two young children needs to be a magical time. She shook her head.
“All right, all right, I’ll do it. For the kids,” she said begrudgingly, all while banging her head on her refrigerator, wondering how she could be a such a formidable force at the office and in the community, and putty in her big sister’s hands.
“I have the best sister in the world,” said Susan.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Check out the sequel to Madison's Christmas below,
Christmas at Star Lake.
It's a suspenseful, romantic story with the Christmas season as a backdrop.
Christmas is Madison's favorite holiday, but this year she has to face it alone,without her father and her best friend, amid the problems of running her own high-stakes business and dealing with family issues. Can the spirit of Christmas
lift a heavy heart?
Check it out on Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/lys6yqj
Add it on Goodreads
Excerpt:
MADISON’S CHRISTMAS
By Carol Ann Kauffman
“Madison… you AREcoming to Christmas dinner, aren’t you?” Susan anxiously asked her sister as soon as she answered the phone. “You didn’t return my phone calls…any of them.”
“Suze, please, ask me to do anything else, but not Christmas dinner,” Madison said slowly with a sigh. “I can’t do Christmas this year, not without Dad, not without Bob.”
“Oh, honey, I know. We all miss him. And I know how much you miss Bob. But as cruel as it may sound, life goes on, Sis. Tommy and I have to make Christmas a happy day for our kids, and Trina and Scott want their auntie here. Plus nobody believes in the magic of Christmas like you, little sister.”
“Not this year, Susan.”
“Maddie, please come,” she begged.
“I don’t know, Suze,” she said finally, giving Susan hope.
“Come on Saturday. We’ll bake cookies with Trina and dance around to Christmas music, like we did when we were kids. She’d just love it. We need to make those memories for my daughter. On Sunday, you and I can catch up, get some sisters’ time, and then you’ll be here early on Christmas morning to see the kids open their presents. It’ll be simple Christmas fun. Nothing about this is going to be easy for any of us, but it’ll be easier if we’re together.”
“Not really,” Madison said with a laugh. “If I’m not there, I can just pretend that it’s not Christmas.”
“Really? No radio, no TV, no Christmas carols in the stores? You can’t escape Christmas, Madison.”
“I have a plan. I’ll stay inside, drapes drawn. Piles of DVDs, pajamas, a gallon of Rocky Road, and a spoon.”
“That sounds strangely comforting in a ‘hermit in a cave’ kind of way, but Maddie… I need you here.” Madison knew Susan had a rough year as well, and Christmas with two young children needs to be a magical time. She shook her head.
“All right, all right, I’ll do it. For the kids,” she said begrudgingly, all while banging her head on her refrigerator, wondering how she could be a such a formidable force at the office and in the community, and putty in her big sister’s hands.
“I have the best sister in the world,” said Susan.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Check out the sequel to Madison's Christmas below,
Christmas at Star Lake.
It's a suspenseful, romantic story with the Christmas season as a backdrop.
Christmas at Star Lake
Christmas at Star Lake is Book Two in the Madison Rand Trilogy, a continuation of the story, and not meant to be a stand alone novel. This story picks up the following December, when Madison discovers the deaths her father and her friend Bob were not natural causes and the same crazed murderer is now after her and the rest of her staff.
Madison knows Kyle won't leave her if he knows the truth, so to save his life, she fires him and sends him back to Cleveland. She sends the rest of her people into hiding and heads to a desolate cabin at the lake to figure out who's behind this horrible plot before anyone else dies.
Amazon Link: http://tinyurl.com/ojc8hub
Excerpt:
Christmas at Star Lake
By Carol Ann Kauffman
Office Call
“Yes, Brittany,” Madison answered the office intercom phone. “Is Kyle here?”
“Ah, no, Ms. Rand, Detective Carlucci’s here to see you,” Brittany announced.
“Oh, no, Brit,” whispered Madison. “Carlucci never brings good news. There goes my good mood, my holiday spirit, and in all probability, my lunch date with Kyle,” she sighed, looking at her watch. “Let him in,” she groaned.
“Ms. Rand will see you now,” Brittany said to the policeman.
Silver Maples’ finest detective in more ways than one, Anthony Carlucci, sauntered into Madison’s office and stared at her.
“Merry Christmas, Detective Carlucci. What a pleasant surprise. And how did my little systems analysis business offend Silver Maple’s Finest this cold December morning right before Christmas?”
“Ahh, Madison, don’t be like that. Although Rand in Cleveland, Chicago, and Philadelphia is what you say it is, we all know damn well this little systems analysis business is a front for the biggest and the best hometown protect-the-innocent-and-help-the-helpless operation in the country. You thumb your nose at the establishment and make the police department look inefficient on a daily basis and the citizens of Silver Maple love you for it, at least the law-biding ones. Remember, me and Rand, we go way back. And it’s always a pleasure to come and visit and just look around.”
“Thank you, I think. Coffee?”
“Sure.” He sat down, stretched out his long legs, and got comfortable.
“Brittany, Detective Heart-throb Carlucci’s in the mood for some coffee to go with his late morning chat,” she called out. “Now, what’s on your mind, Detective? Christmas is almost here and I’m a busy woman.”
“Madison, new evidence has come to light from the state coroner’s office. You’re in over your head, kid. Do you still own this building? Without Hawk, Pops, and Thor, you’ve got nobody to protect you. You’re pissing people off left and right. I think you should sell. Get out of New York. Go somewhere nice and warm. Open up a little dress shop in Florida.”
Brittany came in with his coffee, sat it down, winked at him, and strutted out.
Carlucci watched her until she was out of sight.
“Tony? Yo, Tony!” she called, shaking him back to the conversation. “What are you talking about? What new evidence?”
“Your big blonde guy, Thor? Real name Bob Turner.”
“Yes, what about Bob?”
“It wasn’t a heart attack. We have new evidence… it was murder.”
Madison stood up and backed away from Carlucci, leaning against the wall for support. “Murder? Bob… was killed? Why? How? He didn’t have an enemy in the world. Who would want to kill Bob?”
“The lab report showed a highly toxic poison in his system. At the autopsy, the coroner did note a tiny pinprick on Bob’s shoulder. Someone delivered the poison by a pat on the shoulder. Fast-acting stuff. So, we gather, it happened while he was out jogging in the park that morning.”
“No,” whispered Madison in disbelief, then taking a moment to let it sunk in. “So Bob was murdered.” She walked to the window and looked out silently for a moment. “You know, I always doubted that heart attack theory,” she said. “He was as healthy as they come. Exercise freak. Vegan. Vitamin-popper. Knew all his numbers: cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar, hemoglobin, homocysteine, and sodium levels. Damn walking encyclopedia of health information one really didn’t care to know. Sometimes he was pure hell to have dinner with. But murdered? Who would want to kill Bob? And why?”
“Any one of the number of disgruntled thugs, bullies, and criminals that you’ve angered over the years. But, Madison, there’s more. Are you listening to me? Madison? Pops, too.”
“My dad? No, Tony, Dad had a stroke. In bed. In the middle of the night. At home.”
“No, kid. He was murdered.”
“Somebody murdered my father in our house? While I slept upstairs?” Madison sank into her chair.
“Yes.”
“But there was no sign of a break in.”
“I know. They were good.”
“How did they get passed our security system?”
“I don’t know. They were good.”
“So somebody killed Bob andmy dad last December and you just now figured it out? The same way? Two tiny pinpricks didn’t send up a red flag? What’s the matter with you guys? Are you all blooming idiots?”
“There was no autopsy done on Pops, remember, so we don’t know if he had a pinprick. We’re only going on the tox reports. These things take time. The tox report on Bob Turner came in and got filed with the closed cases. The computer didn’t cough up the match with your father’s until yesterday when... Listen, you‘re all in danger, but especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone’s targeting your muscle, then the toothpick is next to go down. Everybody knows who he is and where he works, and everybody knows he’s nuts about you. He’s a celebrity in town and he’s only been here, what, a year? The TV reporters follow him around just to see what he’ll do next.”
“Dad and Bob died last December. So… why are we in danger now?”
“A big order of this highly unusual substance has just hit the city.”
“You have a paper trail?”
“Well, no, we had a digital trail that… vanished.”
“So some crazy person out there only wants to kill my people at Christmas time? What’s the name of this substance? How much exactly is a big order? Where did it originate? Is there an antidote?”
“You need to close down Rand Solutions and become invisible, all of you, or the body count is only going to go up. Today, Madison.”
“Answer my questions, Tony,” she demanded.
“I don’t have the answers.” He threw his hands up in the air.
“Thank you for coming. Goodbye, Detective Carlucci. See yourself out.”
“Madison, I need you to…”
Madison picked up her handbag and left through her private entrance. She pulled her coat off the hook in the hall and rode her private elevator down to the street. She couldn’t breathe. There was a giant lump in her throat. Something was twisting hard in her chest. Her head was pounding. She wanted to puke. Or pass out. Or both. Her cell phone rang.
“What?” she shouted.
“Maddie, what’s the matter?” Her secretary Brittany sounded scared.
“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. Close up shop for today, Brit. Send everybody home. Tell them… just tell them to all go home. Tell them to wait for a call from me or you before returning to the building in January.”
“What? We didn’t pass the health code inspection?” asked Brittany. “They’re closing down the building?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Maddie, are you okay?”
“Sure. I’m fine. Just aggravated with that damn strutting pretty boy Carlucci at the moment. But it’ll pass. I’m okay. Go home, Brit.”
Madison walked aimlessly down the street, ignoring the beautiful Christmas decorations and holiday storefronts that usually thrilled her, reliving her conversation with Detective Carlucci, “You’re all in danger, especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone is targeting your muscle, the toothpick’s the next to go down.”Kyle. Her sweet Kyle. Her love. His life was in danger. One of the many thugs, creeps, and morons she’d put in their place was picking off her people one at a time, with nothing more than a pat on the shoulder.
Her cell phone rang again.
“Now what?” she screamed into the phone.
“Maddie, it’s me,” said Kyle. “Sweetie, where are you? Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. I know you’re upset. Brittany said we failed some health inspection and they closed down the building. That can’t be true. What rubbish! Where are you? I’ll come and get you. We’ll have some lunch and together we’ll figure out what to do next. It’ll be okay, honey, don’t worry. So… what would you like to do with all this time off? Hmm? I have a few ideas. We could maybe…”
“Kyle, honey, I can’t talk right now. Go home. Be extremely cautious. I’ll call you later. ” She turned her phone off.
She found herself in front of the massive grey stone VistaCor building on the corner. She went in and approached the statuesque, auburn-haired beauty at the desk by the elaborately decorated Douglas fir Christmas tree decked in golden ornaments.
“Hi, Anita. I don’t have an appointment, but I’d like to speak to Mr. Modarelli. It’s important.”
“Of course, Ms. Rand. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Moments later, Anita reappeared.
“Follow me, Ms. Rand,” she said, and led her down the hall into the room at the end of the hall. “Mr. Modarelli said he’d be with you shortly.”
“Thank you, Anita.”
Madison sat down on the couch. She looked around at what appeared to be a more personal room than a waiting room. It was large with gleaming dark wood and leather furniture and Modarelli family portraits going back generations on the wall, bookcases full of books and awards, and a fire blazing in the grey fieldstone fireplace. There were large fresh pine wreaths with lush red velvet bows on the windows and pieces of an old ceramic Nativity set on the mantle. A slim tree decorated with gold ribbon and stars sat in the corner. She stared at the fireplace flames and lost track of time.
“Madison? Maddie?” Mike Modarelli shook her shoulder as he sat next to her on the couch.
Madison clutched her shoulder and pulled away from him. Pinprick? Bastard! No, no pinprick. Just her imagination.
“What is it? Something’s wrong. Tell me.” He soothed her. “You’re pale and shaking.”
“Daddy… was murdered,” she blurted out in sobs. He pulled her into a hug and patted her back. He let her cry until the sobs slowed down.
“Murdered? Are you sure?”
“Detective Carlucci came to the office this morning. Somebody got through the security system, killed Dad, and got out without a sound.” She nodded. “Dad… and Bob, too. Both of them were murdered. A highly toxic substance was found in their blood work just nowwhen they died last December. No heart attack. No stroke. They were poisoned. A pinprick on the shoulder in Bob’s case.”
“Do they have any leads?”
“No. But more of this unusual toxic poison has made its way into town, and Carlucci thinks it’s tagged for my people.”
“Carlucci laid that on you and left?”
“Yes. He suggested I close up shop and leave town.”
“So somebody is forcing you to close down by eliminating your muscle?”
“Yes, and he said… Kyle is next.” She sobbed again. “Mike, I’m finally happy, happy just to be with Kyle. I finally had the courage to let someone in, to start over. And I’m so lucky because Kyle is such a wonderful man. He’s the kindest, sweetest, funniest, most romantic man I’ve ever met and I’ve never felt so loved in my life. He doesn’t play games. He’s open and honest with me. He’s so patient and gentle. He loves with his whole heart. I’d sell shoes at Macy’s in downtown Detroit just to be near him. Now, his life is in danger. There’s a target on his back… because of me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Send him back to Cleveland. Today. I’ll make sure he gets his old job back, with a raise.”
“Are you going to tell him the truth?” Modarelli scratched his head. “You know, you owe him the truth, Madison.”
“No, I can’t. If I tell him the truth, he won’t go. He’ll stay here with me even if we’re closed down, even if he knows his life is in danger. No. I’ll tell him… he’s a big fat failure at this kind of business, that he draws too much attention to himself, he’s too obvious, that he’s too soft, and I can’t be babysitting him all the time, and he’s got to go back to Cleveland.”
“That’s… harsh.”
“What should I say? Something like, ‘Sweetie, bad guys want to poison you with a pat on the back, or the shoulder, wherever. I love you and I want you to be safe, so go away for a little bit, become invisible, and I’ll call you when I get this mess sorted out, okay honey?’ Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, I like that better.”
“No,” said Madison. “He won’t go.”
Christmas at Star Lake is Book Two in the Madison Rand Trilogy, a continuation of the story, and not meant to be a stand alone novel. This story picks up the following December, when Madison discovers the deaths her father and her friend Bob were not natural causes and the same crazed murderer is now after her and the rest of her staff.
Madison knows Kyle won't leave her if he knows the truth, so to save his life, she fires him and sends him back to Cleveland. She sends the rest of her people into hiding and heads to a desolate cabin at the lake to figure out who's behind this horrible plot before anyone else dies.
Amazon Link: http://tinyurl.com/ojc8hub
Excerpt:
Christmas at Star Lake
By Carol Ann Kauffman
Office Call
“Yes, Brittany,” Madison answered the office intercom phone. “Is Kyle here?”
“Ah, no, Ms. Rand, Detective Carlucci’s here to see you,” Brittany announced.
“Oh, no, Brit,” whispered Madison. “Carlucci never brings good news. There goes my good mood, my holiday spirit, and in all probability, my lunch date with Kyle,” she sighed, looking at her watch. “Let him in,” she groaned.
“Ms. Rand will see you now,” Brittany said to the policeman.
Silver Maples’ finest detective in more ways than one, Anthony Carlucci, sauntered into Madison’s office and stared at her.
“Merry Christmas, Detective Carlucci. What a pleasant surprise. And how did my little systems analysis business offend Silver Maple’s Finest this cold December morning right before Christmas?”
“Ahh, Madison, don’t be like that. Although Rand in Cleveland, Chicago, and Philadelphia is what you say it is, we all know damn well this little systems analysis business is a front for the biggest and the best hometown protect-the-innocent-and-help-the-helpless operation in the country. You thumb your nose at the establishment and make the police department look inefficient on a daily basis and the citizens of Silver Maple love you for it, at least the law-biding ones. Remember, me and Rand, we go way back. And it’s always a pleasure to come and visit and just look around.”
“Thank you, I think. Coffee?”
“Sure.” He sat down, stretched out his long legs, and got comfortable.
“Brittany, Detective Heart-throb Carlucci’s in the mood for some coffee to go with his late morning chat,” she called out. “Now, what’s on your mind, Detective? Christmas is almost here and I’m a busy woman.”
“Madison, new evidence has come to light from the state coroner’s office. You’re in over your head, kid. Do you still own this building? Without Hawk, Pops, and Thor, you’ve got nobody to protect you. You’re pissing people off left and right. I think you should sell. Get out of New York. Go somewhere nice and warm. Open up a little dress shop in Florida.”
Brittany came in with his coffee, sat it down, winked at him, and strutted out.
Carlucci watched her until she was out of sight.
“Tony? Yo, Tony!” she called, shaking him back to the conversation. “What are you talking about? What new evidence?”
“Your big blonde guy, Thor? Real name Bob Turner.”
“Yes, what about Bob?”
“It wasn’t a heart attack. We have new evidence… it was murder.”
Madison stood up and backed away from Carlucci, leaning against the wall for support. “Murder? Bob… was killed? Why? How? He didn’t have an enemy in the world. Who would want to kill Bob?”
“The lab report showed a highly toxic poison in his system. At the autopsy, the coroner did note a tiny pinprick on Bob’s shoulder. Someone delivered the poison by a pat on the shoulder. Fast-acting stuff. So, we gather, it happened while he was out jogging in the park that morning.”
“No,” whispered Madison in disbelief, then taking a moment to let it sunk in. “So Bob was murdered.” She walked to the window and looked out silently for a moment. “You know, I always doubted that heart attack theory,” she said. “He was as healthy as they come. Exercise freak. Vegan. Vitamin-popper. Knew all his numbers: cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar, hemoglobin, homocysteine, and sodium levels. Damn walking encyclopedia of health information one really didn’t care to know. Sometimes he was pure hell to have dinner with. But murdered? Who would want to kill Bob? And why?”
“Any one of the number of disgruntled thugs, bullies, and criminals that you’ve angered over the years. But, Madison, there’s more. Are you listening to me? Madison? Pops, too.”
“My dad? No, Tony, Dad had a stroke. In bed. In the middle of the night. At home.”
“No, kid. He was murdered.”
“Somebody murdered my father in our house? While I slept upstairs?” Madison sank into her chair.
“Yes.”
“But there was no sign of a break in.”
“I know. They were good.”
“How did they get passed our security system?”
“I don’t know. They were good.”
“So somebody killed Bob andmy dad last December and you just now figured it out? The same way? Two tiny pinpricks didn’t send up a red flag? What’s the matter with you guys? Are you all blooming idiots?”
“There was no autopsy done on Pops, remember, so we don’t know if he had a pinprick. We’re only going on the tox reports. These things take time. The tox report on Bob Turner came in and got filed with the closed cases. The computer didn’t cough up the match with your father’s until yesterday when... Listen, you‘re all in danger, but especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone’s targeting your muscle, then the toothpick is next to go down. Everybody knows who he is and where he works, and everybody knows he’s nuts about you. He’s a celebrity in town and he’s only been here, what, a year? The TV reporters follow him around just to see what he’ll do next.”
“Dad and Bob died last December. So… why are we in danger now?”
“A big order of this highly unusual substance has just hit the city.”
“You have a paper trail?”
“Well, no, we had a digital trail that… vanished.”
“So some crazy person out there only wants to kill my people at Christmas time? What’s the name of this substance? How much exactly is a big order? Where did it originate? Is there an antidote?”
“You need to close down Rand Solutions and become invisible, all of you, or the body count is only going to go up. Today, Madison.”
“Answer my questions, Tony,” she demanded.
“I don’t have the answers.” He threw his hands up in the air.
“Thank you for coming. Goodbye, Detective Carlucci. See yourself out.”
“Madison, I need you to…”
Madison picked up her handbag and left through her private entrance. She pulled her coat off the hook in the hall and rode her private elevator down to the street. She couldn’t breathe. There was a giant lump in her throat. Something was twisting hard in her chest. Her head was pounding. She wanted to puke. Or pass out. Or both. Her cell phone rang.
“What?” she shouted.
“Maddie, what’s the matter?” Her secretary Brittany sounded scared.
“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. Close up shop for today, Brit. Send everybody home. Tell them… just tell them to all go home. Tell them to wait for a call from me or you before returning to the building in January.”
“What? We didn’t pass the health code inspection?” asked Brittany. “They’re closing down the building?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Maddie, are you okay?”
“Sure. I’m fine. Just aggravated with that damn strutting pretty boy Carlucci at the moment. But it’ll pass. I’m okay. Go home, Brit.”
Madison walked aimlessly down the street, ignoring the beautiful Christmas decorations and holiday storefronts that usually thrilled her, reliving her conversation with Detective Carlucci, “You’re all in danger, especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone is targeting your muscle, the toothpick’s the next to go down.”Kyle. Her sweet Kyle. Her love. His life was in danger. One of the many thugs, creeps, and morons she’d put in their place was picking off her people one at a time, with nothing more than a pat on the shoulder.
Her cell phone rang again.
“Now what?” she screamed into the phone.
“Maddie, it’s me,” said Kyle. “Sweetie, where are you? Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. I know you’re upset. Brittany said we failed some health inspection and they closed down the building. That can’t be true. What rubbish! Where are you? I’ll come and get you. We’ll have some lunch and together we’ll figure out what to do next. It’ll be okay, honey, don’t worry. So… what would you like to do with all this time off? Hmm? I have a few ideas. We could maybe…”
“Kyle, honey, I can’t talk right now. Go home. Be extremely cautious. I’ll call you later. ” She turned her phone off.
She found herself in front of the massive grey stone VistaCor building on the corner. She went in and approached the statuesque, auburn-haired beauty at the desk by the elaborately decorated Douglas fir Christmas tree decked in golden ornaments.
“Hi, Anita. I don’t have an appointment, but I’d like to speak to Mr. Modarelli. It’s important.”
“Of course, Ms. Rand. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Moments later, Anita reappeared.
“Follow me, Ms. Rand,” she said, and led her down the hall into the room at the end of the hall. “Mr. Modarelli said he’d be with you shortly.”
“Thank you, Anita.”
Madison sat down on the couch. She looked around at what appeared to be a more personal room than a waiting room. It was large with gleaming dark wood and leather furniture and Modarelli family portraits going back generations on the wall, bookcases full of books and awards, and a fire blazing in the grey fieldstone fireplace. There were large fresh pine wreaths with lush red velvet bows on the windows and pieces of an old ceramic Nativity set on the mantle. A slim tree decorated with gold ribbon and stars sat in the corner. She stared at the fireplace flames and lost track of time.
“Madison? Maddie?” Mike Modarelli shook her shoulder as he sat next to her on the couch.
Madison clutched her shoulder and pulled away from him. Pinprick? Bastard! No, no pinprick. Just her imagination.
“What is it? Something’s wrong. Tell me.” He soothed her. “You’re pale and shaking.”
“Daddy… was murdered,” she blurted out in sobs. He pulled her into a hug and patted her back. He let her cry until the sobs slowed down.
“Murdered? Are you sure?”
“Detective Carlucci came to the office this morning. Somebody got through the security system, killed Dad, and got out without a sound.” She nodded. “Dad… and Bob, too. Both of them were murdered. A highly toxic substance was found in their blood work just nowwhen they died last December. No heart attack. No stroke. They were poisoned. A pinprick on the shoulder in Bob’s case.”
“Do they have any leads?”
“No. But more of this unusual toxic poison has made its way into town, and Carlucci thinks it’s tagged for my people.”
“Carlucci laid that on you and left?”
“Yes. He suggested I close up shop and leave town.”
“So somebody is forcing you to close down by eliminating your muscle?”
“Yes, and he said… Kyle is next.” She sobbed again. “Mike, I’m finally happy, happy just to be with Kyle. I finally had the courage to let someone in, to start over. And I’m so lucky because Kyle is such a wonderful man. He’s the kindest, sweetest, funniest, most romantic man I’ve ever met and I’ve never felt so loved in my life. He doesn’t play games. He’s open and honest with me. He’s so patient and gentle. He loves with his whole heart. I’d sell shoes at Macy’s in downtown Detroit just to be near him. Now, his life is in danger. There’s a target on his back… because of me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Send him back to Cleveland. Today. I’ll make sure he gets his old job back, with a raise.”
“Are you going to tell him the truth?” Modarelli scratched his head. “You know, you owe him the truth, Madison.”
“No, I can’t. If I tell him the truth, he won’t go. He’ll stay here with me even if we’re closed down, even if he knows his life is in danger. No. I’ll tell him… he’s a big fat failure at this kind of business, that he draws too much attention to himself, he’s too obvious, that he’s too soft, and I can’t be babysitting him all the time, and he’s got to go back to Cleveland.”
“That’s… harsh.”
“What should I say? Something like, ‘Sweetie, bad guys want to poison you with a pat on the back, or the shoulder, wherever. I love you and I want you to be safe, so go away for a little bit, become invisible, and I’ll call you when I get this mess sorted out, okay honey?’ Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, I like that better.”
“No,” said Madison. “He won’t go.”
I Need Christmas
After a depressing year of sadness, loneliness, and self-doubt, successful civil engineer and former All-American basketball star Elizabeth (Betsy) Curry returns home to Oakville, Ohio, for the Christmas holidays a depressed and broken women. Reeling from her bitter divorce from the handsome, charming, but morally decrepate Tommy DeMalio, her college sweetheart and first big love, who left her after two years of what she thought was a good marriage for a stripper he met at an office bachelor party for her co-worker, Betsy feels lost and empty. Not exactly anticipating the happy holiday with her family and their multitude of joyful Christmas customs and long-time storybook-like traditions, she knows she needs them in order to heal.
Once comfortable at home and feeling somewhat better about herself, Tommy shows up and claims he wants a reconciliation, throwing her back into the self-destructive cycle of doubt, hostility, and suspision she is trying so hard to escape.
She discovers her father has set her up with his protégé at work, the tall, handsome, athletic red-haired Patrick, who, try as hard as she can, she can’t find a single thing she doesn’t like about him.
So, what’s the problem? Betsy feels it’s too soon for her to love again. How can she love anyone again when she doesn’t like herself or what she’s become since the break-up. Also, she fears she will hurt the sweet, gentle Patrick.
Will the love, joy, and goodwill of the holiday season coupled with the many long-time holiday customs and Curry family traditions help Betsy to find herself again? Will she be strong enough to lift herself out of her self-induced prison so that she can take another chance on love ?
Buy Link: http://tinyurl.comzcrtena
Excerpt:
I NEED CHRISTMAS
An Oakville Family Christmas
By Carol Ann Kauffman
“I need Christmas, this year more than ever,” thought Betsy as she adjusted the timers on the candles in the upstairs front windows of her parents’ house so they came on at exactly the same time. “I need to feel happy and excited about the holidays, about life in general, and about me in particular again. The way I used to, before he… When I force myself to think about it, I still have so much to be thankful for. I need to crawl out of this deep, dark hole of self-pity and resentment.”
She stared out the front window at the beautifully decorated big, old homes in the neighborhood where she grew up, contemplating the upcoming holiday with her beloved family. “If anybody can help me pull out of this black pit, it’s my wonderful, loving family.”
Satisfied that all the window candles were now synchronized, Betsy went downstairs to the laundry room to fold the towels, as instructed by the chore chart her mother posted on the refrigerator, just like when they were kids. In her mother’s defense, all three grown children were home for Christmas, plus extended family and friends were in and out, and help was needed.
“Well, Betsy, if you would’ve just come to me when you started having trouble with Tommy, I may have been able to give you some marriage-saving advice,” the Honorable Judge Margaret Curry remarked dryly as she helped her daughter fold the last of the towels from the dryer. Of all the children, Margaret thought Betsy was the most willing to help out, the most like her father, in looks and temperament.
“Mother, do you hear yourself? Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve,” Betsy tried hard not to show her building frustration at the subject. “All moot points now. Tommy DeMalio is gone. And Tommy DeMalio, on the best day of his life, couldn’t measure up to Daddy for an instant.”
“Your father’s not all that perfect.”
“Yes, he is!”
“You chose Tommy DeMalio, dear. That sweet, smart boy who used to live two doors down the street from us, Ronald Wedzig? He was crazy about you and very tolerant of your borderline sports addiction. He’s a CPA now, you know. His parents were lovely people. But you didn’t want to go through life as ‘Betsy Wedzig’.”
“No, Mom.” Betsy laughed. “I just couldn’t warm up to Ronald Wedzig. You didn’t think it was just a tiny bit weird when he set up a lawn chair in his driveway so he could peer into our living room windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of me running around the house in my underwear?”
“No, I thought it was amusing, maybe because I knew you never ran around the house in your underwear.”
“Amusing in a ‘peeping Tom’ kind of way? Weird. Weird and short. Tommy was…tall.”
“Mmm. That’s an interesting criterion to use for spousal selection.”