Alien Scrooge: Holiday Starrs

by Zara Zenia

  Alien Scrooge: Holiday Starrs

  A Sci-Fi Alien Romance

  Zara Zenia

  Starr Huntress

  Edited by

  Elizabeth A Lance

  Illustrated by

  Cosmic Covers

  Copyright © 2020 by Zara Zenia

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Cosmic Covers

  Edited by Elizabeth A Lance

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the authors’ imagination.

  Contents

  VIP Reader Club

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  About Zara Zenia

  Also by Zara Zenia

  Preview of Alien Prince Charming

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  Visit her site: www.zarazenia.com

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  1

  Cara Mathison stood in her living room listening to the warm voice of her mother over the phone. Her eyes passed over her luggage, partially packed for the trip home to Big Sur, California.

  "I'm sorry, dear," her mother chimed, "I'm going on and on about my work—"

  "That's okay, Mom!" Cara interrupted, deliberately reaching for the pile of clothes she'd been neglecting and folding them to put in her suitcase. "I'm just packing and listening to you talk, so you can keep going. You're helping me stay busy." She spoke reassuringly as she admired the little red dress she had bought for Christmas dinner that year.

  "Well then, I will keep up my yammering." Bonnie Mathison laughed to herself before diving back into the conversation. "What time are you planning to get here, sweetheart?"

  "Oh," Cara checked the time, "I'm a little behind schedule. Getting the studio cleaned and locked up took a bit longer than expected, but I hope to be leaving here in about an hour."

  "Oh no, I thought you'd cleaned up last night when we were on the phone?"

  "Yeah, I did some cleaning last night." Cara grabbed a stack of photos from her coffee table, sorting them in her hands. "I left a few photographs to dry overnight since it was so late, so I had to finish up in the dark room this morning."

  "Does that mean you have pictures for us?" her mother asked excitedly.

  Cara giggled, delighted at her enthusiasm. "Yeah I'm bringing some shots from a project I've been doing on the side."

  "How exciting! I always love seeing your work darling." Bonnie beamed. "I just can't wait for you to get here." She lowered her voice suddenly, nearly to a whisper. "You aren't bringing any other surprises for me? Someone tall, dark, and handsome perhaps?"

  "Mom! Not again! We almost made it through the whole conversation without you bringing up my love life." Cara spoke exasperatedly, her eyebrows knitting together, but she understood where her mom was coming from. "I just don't know if I'm ready yet. It hasn't even been a year since Oscar—"

  "That's why you should get out there!" her mom cut in at the mention of Cara's former boyfriend. "He was horrible, and you deserve so much better. You can't let that awful man keep you from something really wonderful."

  Cara stayed silent, not knowing what to say to her mom's assertion. She did want to find someone, but she never had any luck with guys. Oscar had only been the most recent failure in a long list of shady men who had left Cara feeling unsure about the whole gender.

  "Not every guy you meet is going to take advantage of you, pumpkin. Oscar was a freeloader, and he did a lot of damage. Your dad and I are still furious with the way he treated you and the stunt he pulled last year. For him to manipulate you like that, then try to steal grandma's jewelry was despicable. Still, honey, you can't just live with that. The pain will only fester and grow. You need to heal; to find someone who can help you heal. You have every reason to be worried, but you also deserve to be happy. Your dad and I — we want to see you happy."

  Cara stared out her little living room window into the gray winter sky as her mother spoke. She stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking about what to say before turning her gaze back into the apartment at her packed bags.

  "Yeah, I know, Mom." She grew quiet again, walking over to her suitcase and zipping it closed as she tried to think of the right words. "Umm, I just finished packing, so I should probably go load up the car. If I hurry, I can still make it to you guys before noon."

  "Sweetie, I know you feel responsible for how Oscar acted last Christmas, but you shouldn't. That was all on him. I truly wish I could take that fear you have from you."

  "I know, Mom. Thanks," Cara said with a sigh. She really had become sort of afraid of people and their secrets since leaving Oscar. What if every man she met was like him? That was her biggest worry.

  "Okay, sweetheart. Call me when you're close so we can help with your bags. I love you, darling. Get here quickly so I can squeeze you!"

  "I will, Mom. I love you too. See you soon."

  A pleasant Christmas melody flowed from the radio as Cara drove alongside the Pacific Ocean. The cool sea breeze drifted in through the open windows, gently lifting the loose hair that had fallen from Cara's braid. She hummed along to the music while taking quick glances at the distant, glistening waters beyond the ridge of the road that reminded her of the beaches she had grown up on. The sun sat high over her now reflecting off of the hood of her dark green Jeep and her dashboard told her it was eleven. She had been on the road for two hours and her anticipation grew as she entered the last stretch of her journey.

  "I've made great time." She spoke to her hands that gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Just a little bit longer."

  Thoughts of Oscar and her conversation with her mom paced through her mind as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She remembered the uncomfortable ride back to Oakland, California the year before, glancing at the empty seat next to her. She could picture him in it, leaned back, his brown curls falling haphazardly over his head, lounging casually in her Jeep as if he hadn't tried to rob her parents. She felt the same rage bubbling inside her and the cold speech she gave flashed through her mind.

  "When we get back to Oakland, you need to pack your things. We're done. If you aren't gone before the night is over, I'm pressing charges." She had broken the silence abruptly, her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment and her eyes fixed firmly to the road in front of her. When no response came she peeked from the corner of her eye at the passenger that had pulled so much resentment from her overnight and she could have sworn Oscar was grinning.

  The radio cut into her thoughts as her Christmas tunes faded to static. She turned the dial, scanning for a new station in the white nois
e. A clear, male voice broke through, informing her of the weather forecast for Big Sur in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He promised a light chill in the air, but nothing that would stop visitors from exploring the picturesque beaches and scenic mountain trails in the area. Cara remembered fondly the landscapes that inspired her to become a photographer. She couldn't wait to get home and light that spark again. The weather man turned the segment over to the news anchor to begin her broadcast.

  "Hello and welcome, I'm Nancy Blake. As Christmas creeps closer, many people are making plans with friends and family for the holiday. This time of year is a joyous one for most, who join their loved ones in festivities and celebrations. For others, though, reports show this season is one of suffering and loss. Studies chart the increase in suicide rates around the holiday season marking an important time for communities and individuals to come together in support of one another. For the next few moments, the station will broadcast the numbers of several suicide prevention resources as we ask listeners to take a moment and mourn the loss—"

  Cara turned the radio off and put her full attention to the road, trying to empty her mind of the bad news that permeated her Christmas holiday. She picked up her phone to call her parents as she left the highway behind her, doing her best to abandon the sad thoughts with it.

  She turned her Jeep onto the long driveway to her family home and let out a heavy breath as a feeling of relief fell over her. Her parents stood at the top of the yard waiting for her. Cara was swept up in the excitement and lightly tapped on the horn to greet her parents as she rolled up the asphalt toward them. The two animatedly waved at their daughter as she pulled up next to them and put her car in park. She jumped from her Wrangler and dove into her parent's arms in the cool mountain air, letting their warmth wash over her.

  2

  Cara's dad untangled himself from the family hug and got to work unloading Cara's bags. The trio settled the suitcases in Cara's childhood bedroom where she always stayed when she visited for the holidays. After she had gathered all her things, her parents left her alone in the room so she could shower and get comfortable.

  With the drive washed away, she stood at the mirror, gazing into her own cool blue eyes in the glass and running a hair dryer across her damp locks. Once her bronze hair was dry, she began digging through her suitcase for an outfit. From across the room, the mirror reflected the movement of her bare body, drawing her eyes, although she could barely make out her curves through the fog in her vision. She slid on her glasses before reaching behind her to weave her loose hair into a braid that fell down the arch of her back. After pulling on some thick gray leggings, a long sleeved shirt, and a light sweater, she finished searching through her luggage and strolled from the room with her socks and shoes in hand and her camera bag slung over her shoulder.

  Her father sat at the dining room table with a book resting open on his palms and a steaming cup of black coffee resting on the table in front of him.

  "Where's Mom?" Cara inquired as she set her shoes down on the floor and sat in her usual place at the table.

  Dennis' eyes raised from his page and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a grin at the sight of her.

  "She's adding a few things to her website before taking her official Christmas vacation." He deliberately marked his page with a bookmark and set his book to the side while Cara looped the strap of her camera bag over the back of her chair.

  "Oh, she mentioned some new merchandise on the phone last night."

  "Yes, she's been hard at work for weeks on some new projects. It's been wonderful to watch, she really is very crafty."

  Cara smiled knowingly at the admiration in her dad's voice.

  "Well, whenever she's done, I have some pictures for you guys. Is there anymore coffee?"

  Her father perked up at the mention of her photographs. "Yeah, there's some left in the pot. What are the pictures of?"

  Cara made her way to the kitchen to grab a mug with her dad following close behind her.

  "Let's wait for Mom so I can show you together," she replied as she poured her cup.

  "Can't I just have a peek?" Dennis asked dejectedly. "Your mother is going to be a bit." He pouted goofily, making Cara giggle.

  "Not yet, Dad," she insisted, making her way back to the table as she blew the steam from the surface of her coffee.

  They both sat down across from each other again and took a sip of their bitter beverage. The two grew quiet looking out the dining room window into the front yard. As the warm sunlight pooled across the wooden floor, Cara drifted into a memory of sharing the table with her father when she was a child. She recalled him leaning over her small shoulder to help with her homework while also working on lesson plans for his students. He had since retired from teaching, trading his role as a professor for that of an author, and it pleased her immensely to imagine him sitting there writing a manuscript.

  As a warm happiness filled her, she turned to study the man who had raised her. She admired the gray that now streaked through his hair giving him an air of authority and wisdom. He sat a few inches taller than her, with a slight scruff on his chin below his broad smile. His strong yet kind hazel eyes fell on her as he turned with a hint of curiosity flashing across his face.

  Cara rested her chin in her hand, leaning on the table in front of her, and gestured to the book her father had discarded.

  "Is that for work or for pleasure?" she wondered, causing his eyes to drift to the novel.

  "Ah," he pulled it to him, "both, I suppose. I'm researching further for my next trip out to the telescope."

  Her father was an accomplished physics professor, but a passion for writing awakened within him that led him to retire from teaching. He'd explored writing for several years while Cara was in high school, before publishing his first science fiction novel after she left for college. The world of science fiction had opened up the hobby of stargazing for him, and he could spend hours discussing what was and could be out in the universe with anyone who would listen. Spending nights out at the telescope had become a family event. When the three of them were out there it always made Cara thankful to be a part of her eccentric but loving family.

  "Hello, gang!" her mother's voice broke Cara from her memory, making her leap lightly in her seat.

  "Oh, Mom, you scared me." She giggled at the big grin on her mother's face.

  Her mom plopped into her seat between her and her dad, her messy, black hair bouncing with her movements. "I got the holiday stuffies on the website, and I'm ready for some family time." She grabbed Cara's hand and held it. "How was the drive, sweetheart?"

  "It was uneventful. Just some time to myself to think and enjoy some Christmas music." She knew it was a lie, but she didn't want to think about any of that now, and she certainly didn't want her parents to worry. "Hey, I have a project to show you guys."

  She turned to her side to unzip a smaller pocket of her camera bag, pulling a stack of photographs out and spreading them on the table in front of her. Some of the pictures laid out before her were clearly practice shots. Despite this, as Cara looked through the pile she was very proud of the beauty she had managed to capture in a few of the amateur photos.

  "I've been working on long exposure shots around the studio. It's a little harder to find a good place to set up, working in the city, but I've been doing my best with what I have." She glanced at her parents who were lightly moving the pictures gently between the two of them. "They're mostly just practice shots, but it's been fun."

  Her mother turned her face up, her mouth hanging slightly agape as she looked at her daughter. "They're beautiful, honey. Do we get to keep some of these?"

  The corners of Cara's lips turned up as she spoke with a giggle in her voice, "You can keep as many as you want, Mom. I'm hoping to get to the beach to do some shooting out here before I head back home."

  "Oh, that sounds fun!" Her mother's unending support was amazing and nearly brought a tear to Cara's eye.

  "Yes
!" her father cut in, "Perhaps you could go after lunch while we head to the store. Your mother was worried about leaving you here alone when you just arrived."

  "Oh, that would be wonderful. I've been itching to get my camera out ever since I got in the car to come here, the scenery is just gorgeous with the snowy topped mountains in the distance."

  "Well, why don't we have a quick lunch first? Do you mind, honey, I'd like to go put these photos away." Her mom looked at her dad.

  He stood up from the table and headed to the kitchen at his wife's signal. "On my way."

  After their relaxing time catching up, Cara returned to her room to pack her usual hiking bag. She slipped into her thicker socks and hiking boots before hugging both of her parents and heading for the door.

  "Be careful out there, Cara Bear." Her father insisted on using her old childhood nickname.

  "I will, Dad. Love you guys."

  After a short drive toward the coast, Cara parked her green Jeep Wrangler at Andrew Molera State Park. She'd been on this trail many times growing up nearby. The path was familiar and the slight chill in the air combined with the salty smell of the ocean sent shivers of delight through her body. With warm memories flooding her mind, she nearly skipped down the first section of the dirt path before calming herself to a gentle stroll. The first part of her walk was surrounded by low leafless bushes and short spindly trees. She stepped through the small creek that flowed through the path as images of climbing those trees when she was younger flashed through her mind. She was much too big for them now, but the feeling she had gotten sitting on the top of those trees and looking out at the landscape beyond still sat within her. She couldn't wait to capture this world that was so familiar to her in a new light through her camera lens. Her pace picked up as she reached a fork in the leaf strewn dirt path, leading her to follow a trail that led toward the cool ocean breeze.