Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We’re In Trouble!
Christiana Miller
HekaRose Publishing electronic publication date:
August 2014
Electronic Edition
Copyright © 2014 Christiana Miller
www.christianamiller.com
Cover Design by: Deanna Dionne
HekaRose Publishing
www.hekarose.com
All Rights Are Reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Electronic Edition License Notes
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Dedication
To my little muse, whose song of love, wisdom and creativity inspired me to dance,
May your life be filled with music, magick, laughter and love!
Acknowledgements
Big THANK YOUs go to:
To Griffin and Mark, for everything you do.
To my beautiful AR, I’m in awe of your boundless creativity and imagination and I love you so much.
To my grown-up kids, for being so awesome, and to my Mom, who always asks me when the next book will be out.
To Troy and Stephanie, for your unwavering support and for allowing me to immortalize Lord Grundleshanks.
A big thank you to Nicole Brooks for coming up with the title, Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We’re In Trouble!
To Donna McCue, Karen Ann Coffey, Carrie Wolf, Terry Parrish, Mickey Claus, Debbie Clayton, Tawnya Murphy, Cyndi McCormick, Jennifer Krause, Michele Clement and Karen Ann Sturgen for playing the name game.
But most of all, I want to send a big thank you to the Universe and the Muses for coaxing me onto this path, to my amazing readers, who’ve been so incredibly supportive, and to all the children in the family, for giving me hope for the future.
Also By Christiana Miller
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie She’s Dead
A Tale of 3 Witches
The Thief Who Stole Midnight
Love and Other Distractions (anthology)
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We’re In Trouble!
Mara’s in hell! Neither one of the guys in her life is talking to her. Paul, her ex-boyfriend, is afraid she’s going to give birth to a baby demon—complete with horns and hooves. He wants proof that he’s actually the father. And her best friend, Gus, is so obsessed with his new boyfriend and his plans for the late, great, Lord Grundleshanks the Poisonous Toad, he has no time for anyone else.
After Gus flips the seasons and manages to bring summer into winter, everything starts going weirdly wrong. Summer refuses to leave. Household electronics start going haywire. When J.J., a local boy, vanishes from Mara’s car, Mara begins to suspect he’s been turned into a rat. But it’s such a crazy idea, who could she possibly talk to abut it? Then, her dead Aunt Tillie shows up to warn her that Gus is in trouble—big trouble—and it’s up to Mara to save him.
Before Mara can stop him, Gus opens up a portal to Hell and the Devil comes calling. Now, she’s got her hands full, trying to find out what happened to J.J., assure Paul she’s not going to give birth to a mythological creature, and broker a truce between Gus and the Devil before Gus becomes Hell’s newest resident.
(NOTE: This story takes place after Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie She’s Dead and before A Tale of 3 Witches).
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Also By Christiana Miller
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We’re In Trouble!
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
About the Author
Chapter 1
When Gus told me he was going to do the Toad Bone Ritual, I should have cremated the toad and saved us all a whole lot of misery. But it seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time. After all, Grundleshanks wasn’t just any toad. He was something special.
For people who are just tuning in, my name is Mara Stephens and I’m a witch. Not one of those fantasy witches who can wiggle her nose and turn your uncle into a carrot. An actual witch. Which means the Otherworld tends to kick my ass and laugh at me about twice as often as I get to score any wins.
The guy I’m living with currently, is my best friend, Gus. He’s a witch too. (And no, warlock is not the defacto term for male witch. A warlock is a witch who’s betrayed their oaths. To be warlocked is to be shunned and cast out. Although there is a guy in England who’s seeking to reclaim the word as a term for male witches. But that’s a whole other story).
Anyway, Gus is... Think Jack Sparrow meets Harry Potter. He’s all attitude, fashion, magick and mischief. Although lately, he’s been a huge pain in the butt. I blame the toad. Lord Grundleshanks. Or, more precisely, Lord Grundleshanks the Second. Apparently, Lord Grundleshanks the First is living with Gus’s childhood friend, Andwyn, out in Utah. Who knew? I only found out when Gus called him, asking about the odds of getting another toad out of the Grundleshanks line.
But our Grundleshanks is currently residing in the spirit world. Or, at least, he was. Until Gus got the bright idea in his head of immortalizing him through the Toad Bone Ritual. Ha!
I should have stopped him right there. Or tied him up and locked him in the attic until he got over it. But I didn’t think he could possibly get into as much trouble as he did.
I should have known better. Gus is kind of impulsive and the last time I did an impulsive ritual that sounded like a good idea, I wound up accidentally killing my Aunt Tillie, having to fight off an evil-minded ancestral spirit for control of my body and getting knocked up by a demon who had possessed my boyfriend.
I should have realized that this wasn’t
going to turn out any better. But like I said, it all started out innocently enough...
* * *
The sucky thing about being pregnant—other than morning sickness—was not being able to take anything stronger than Tylenol for headaches. I was sprawled out on the couch with a bag of frozen peas over my forehead, massaging my scalp to ease the tension, when Gus crashed through the front door with all the energy of a tornado.
“I’m hooooome!” Gus hollered, a blast of arctic wind ushering in his arrival. He was dragging a giant rolling suitcase behind him and looked… different. He had been in Chicago for what seemed like forever, indulging himself in some quality boy toy time, since he had yet to crack the gay scene in Devil’s Point. Which, to be honest, kind of surprised me. Normally, his gaydar was humming 24-7. The boy was definitely off his game.
Our two Dobies, Aramis and Apollo, eagerly jumped all over his legs, panting and barking in long-legged puppy happiness.
Just in case I had missed Gus blasting through the door, Aunt Tillie shimmered into view on her rocking chair. “Alert the media,” she said sarcastically, while she knitted a pair of baby booties. “Little Lord Fauntleroy has found his way home.”
Then, the baby started kicking my kidneys, in some kind of embryonic happy dance. You may think that my soon-to-be child shouldn’t be able to hear people talking inside her liquid-filled womb or sense the world around her, and you’d be right.
But thanks to a combination of witchblood and demon seed, my baby who, according to pictures in baby magazines, currently resembled a miniature Creature From the Black Lagoon—was aware, responsive and mobile. Way more developed than any of the books said was possible. Even in her current micro-me size, I could feel magic radiating from her.
“Could you take it down a few notches?” I asked, exasperated.
“Nice to see you, too.” Gus responded.
A shaft of sunlight bounced off the snow outside and rudely shoved its way into the living room. I dropped the bag of frozen peas on the side table and squinted at Gus, shielding my eyes. “Close the door. You’re letting out the heat.”
Gus mercifully complied.
The baby head-butted my belly, irritated at my lack of enthusiasm.
“Ow! And you can knock that right off.” I snapped.
“What is wrong with you, woman?! I didn’t touch you.” Gus protested.
“Of course, you didn’t.”
“Then who are you talking to?!”
“Who else is using my organs as makeshift soccer balls? I’m talking to the baby.” I said, rubbing my belly in a circular motion, trying to soothe the little monster.
“I have been gone for weeks. Weeks. Nay onto months. Practically years. I wasn’t just away for the day. You should be thrilled to see me. Dancing and showering me with offerings. At the very least, have a Scotch and water waiting my arrival. Where’s my smiling, happy ‘welcome home, I’ve missed you so much’ face?”
“I’m pregnant. Nauseous and stressed is my happy face.” I said, and felt my eyes filling up with tears. Damn hormones. I sniffled and reached for a tissue from one of the many boxes I had on the coffee table.
“You certainly have an odd way of showing it.”
“What do you expect? You left me alone with Aunt Tillie for too long,” I pouted. “I think she’s rubbed off on me.”
“One can only dream,” Aunt Tillie snorted. “You’d be better off.”
Gus raised an eyebrow.
“I should buy stock in Kleenex. I can’t even watch TV commercials without breaking down.” I sniffled and blew my nose. “I’m happy you’re finally back. I’m just a bit cranky today, okay? I’m sorry. Why didn’t you text or call to tell me you were on the way?”
“Seriously? You need advance notice to find warmth in your heart? Okay, Wicked Witch of the Tundra. Next time, I’ll send flying monkeys to announce my arrival.”
I laughed and felt some of the tension in my head release. I had had a tingling feeling all day, like Gus was on his way home, but since I hadn’t heard from him, I had tried to shake it off as wishful thinking. The constant anticipation had worn on me though, until it triggered a headache.
“If it makes you feel better, the baby’s thrilled to see you. She’s dancing a jig on my bladder and kicking me in the kidneys.”
“You mean he,” Gus said, grinning. “That’s my boy.”
“Boy, shmoy. I’m getting a lot of girl energy.”
“Obviously, we can’t both be right.”
“Maybe it’s a butch girl,” I said.
“Or a femme boy.”
I thought about it. “I can live with that.”
And I could. Either would be fine, because honestly, the one thing I wouldn’t know how to raise was a testosterone-heavy male. They had generally brought me nothing but grief.
“Hold the phone! What if it’s twins?” Gus asked, clapping his hands. His eyes beamed. “Wouldn’t that be something? One for each of us!”
I groaned. One unexpected baby was going to be work enough. I couldn’t imagine raising twins.
Aunt Tillie clucked in disapproval. “Tell the idiot that babies are not toys. They’re living beings.”
“You tell him,” I said.
“Now, who are you talking to?” Gus asked.
“Aunt Tillie. She’s sitting right there,” I pointed to her rocking chair. “Can’t you see her?”
Gus looked a little stunned. “No…”
“Seriously?” I sat up straighter, surprised.
Gus shook his head. “Seriously. That’s just… Weird.”
“You used to be able to see her though, right? Before you left?”
“Not as solid as you, but well enough.”
“Aunt Tillie, how are you blocking Gus?” I asked, curious and a little concerned.
She shrugged and continued knitting.
I mean, it was one thing when we were both seeing Aunt Tillie. Gus was like a check and balance for me. But if it was only me… I had to wonder, was I really seeing Aunt Tillie, or was my imagination on overdrive?
When I looked at her again, she was gone. All I saw was an empty chair.
Chapter 2
After Gus deposited his stuff in his room, he came back downstairs. When he found me in the kitchen, he grabbed his chest and gasped, as if he was having a heart attack.
“Knock it off,” I said, throwing a green bean at him.
“Barefoot, pregnant and shackled to the appliances. I love it.” He whipped his iPhone out of his pocket. “I’m going to commemorate the occasion.”
I stuck out my middle finger, just as the tiny camera clicked.
Gus slid the phone back into his pocket. “I knew if I left you on your own long enough, you’d befriend the kitchen. Have you figured out how to turn the stove on? Or are you just teasing me with promises of nosh?”
“Watch it, buddy.” I warned him. “Or you’ll be eating your dinner raw.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve been traveling for hours and hours to get back to you. Spoil me a little.”
I opened the fridge and scanned the shelves for quick-fix carnita meat. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“I’m lucky you finally learned how to cook. The steady diet of microwave dinners was getting old.”
“Is that why you left for so long?” I asked. To my dismay, tears started pricking my eyes.
Gus came up behind me and kissed my shoulder. “Isn’t that sweet? You missed me. Who would have thought?”
I closed my eyes for a minute and didn’t say anything, until I got my equilibrium back. Then I pulled out the carnitas, a bag of salad and a bottle of dressing.
Gus started setting the table. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Holiday decorations, Yule tree. How’d you get a Yule tree in here, on your own?”
“I ran into Paul at the Christmas tree lot. He offered to help, since you were out of town.” Paul was my on-again, off-again boyfriend and the unknowing father of my baby.
; Gus nodded and looked around, impressed. “It’s almost like we’re real grown-ups.”
I shrugged. “Baby on the way. One of us needed to started acting like an adult.”
“Yeowtch. Sheath those claws, bitchy kitty.”
“Just putting you on notice. The miniature human will be taking over the spoiled child role for the next eighteen years. You’ll have to relinquish your crown.”
I dumped the carnitas into a pan and started heating them up. The microwave would have been easier, but I had stopped using it once I found out I was pregnant. I was probably being paranoid, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Of course, he will,” Gus said, soothingly. “I’m not greedy. I can share the role of irresponsible youngster with him.”
“With her,” I said, stirring the pan.
“Just think of all the trouble we can get into together.” Gus said as he started working on the salad. “I can take him or her, to their first drag queen show. We need to get a baby backpack. Do we have any bleu cheese dressing?”
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We're In Trouble! (The Toad Witch Mysteries Book 2) Page 1
