“It certainly is,” Lena agreed.
Nate walked up on one side of her and Calix appeared on the other. “You’ll want to be closer when they start building it,” Nate advised. “They’ll need you to answer a bunch of questions.”
“Dude, you’re scaring me again. What did we discuss about sharing too much?”
“Right. Right.” Nate said, grinning when Lena rolled her eyes.
“Lena!” Topper yelled. “We need your help with something.”
Lena shook her head at Nate’s grin as she walked off. She pointed her finger in warning, but he just laughed. He spent a lot of time with her these days. It helped her to know someone understood her struggles.
As Lena explained what was needed, soon there was a pond, a water treatment center, and a snow machine all powered by what passed for electricity in Magic. If anyone else came looking, they’d never know the difference. Topper seemed to be an expert at covering her magical tracks.
Lena stepped away while Stark directed his six Glacieran visitors put their hands out over the water. With their combined power, some of the water lifted into the air and swirled until it froze into crystals. Some of the crystals turned to vapor and then vapor formed into clouds. The inside of the snow dome frosted over as snow clouds gathered over their heads.
Soon white flakes were falling. It was beautiful and exactly what she’d dreamed so many years of creating.
“Thank you both,” Lena said to Topper and Stark, at a loss for sufficient words to express herself.
“Now we need decorations and a tree and lights and then we can have our Winter Solstice celebration,” Jessica sang as she spun in a happy circle.
Lena grinned at Topper and Stark. “The girl finally got her snow, and now she wants the holiday. Jessica is determined to have it all.”
Topper laughed. “Because she truly is my child.”
“Then she indeed must be a witch as you have said so often,” Stark conceded, his mouth quirking at the irony.
Topper grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. “Next time, we’ll make a little annoyingly logical alien. I promise.”
Stark lifted a hand to her face. “I am happy with my daughter, and I adore her mother.”
Topper smiled as she walked to her daughter. Stark didn’t know yet that she already was carrying his son. She’d checked with the Fates to be sure. They’d also predicted that she’d have a bit longer to get used to carrying a child this time.
Obviously, she and Stark were going to have to be careful about discussing children in the future. Apparently, all it took was a mention for them to manifest one. Their first-born had grown another three inches this week. Jessica’s childhood was passing quickly. Soon her daughter would need to start her magic training.
But not today. Today was dedicated to making dreams come true…
“Okay, Jessica. Close your eyes and imagine everything you want to be real. I’ll help you make it happen and then you will know what it’s really like to be a witch. Your creation will be your Winter Solstice gift this year.”
Putting one hand on her daughter’s head, Topper chanted softly as her daughter strained in her mind to think of all she wanted.
Lena laughed as she took in the decorated trees and colored lights that appeared out of nowhere. Around the snow dome, a wintry Christmas scene sprung slowly to life. Soon the entire place was festive. Jessica was going to be amazing when she got her full powers.
Calix came and put his arm around her as he took in the sights as well. “This is wonderful, Lena. I’m awed that this place came from your mind. We should use your cell phone to take some pictures to send to my parents. I hear my cousin, Athena, acquired a cell phone for communication with her human boyfriend.”
“Oh, lord. Someone better warn that man about your great-grandparents,” Lena said.
“No worries. I’m sure Grandmother Petra has bragged to everyone about us by now,” Calix replied. “My family thinks you’re every bit as amazing as I do.”
Tilting her head back, Lena looked up at her frosted snow dome. A wave of pure joy went through her. She felt loved by a good man, supported by her new friends, and like she truly belonged someplace. She had what everyone searched for. Some people never found this kind of contentment. And being a dragon? Well, that was going to take awhile, but she liked the idea of flying free wherever she wanted to go.
In her mind, she could even see the people in Magic coming out to ice skate on the weekends. She could see how she could improve this community by giving them the novelty of cold to enjoy. All in all, this was turning out to be the best Christmas Lena could ever remember having, and something told her that her future was going to be just as magical.
Jessica opened her eyes and looked around in wonder. “Daddy! Do you see what I created? I love being a witch!”
Lena watched Stark bow to his enchanting child. Jessica stopped dancing long enough to bow back to him. Seeing their loving relationship made Lena want a child. She looked at Calix and felt her heart warm. Lord, she was in so much trouble.
“Thank you, Mommy. Thank you for letting us have a witch Christmas.”
“You’re welcome,” Topper answered, laughing when Jessica threw her arms around her and hugged.
Jessica released her mother and scooped up handfuls of snow as it fell. She threw them into the air so she could watch them float back down. She looked around at all the adults who were hugging and smiling. Good IceyLaLa was right about how happy they all were going to be with the snow dome.
“Magic is the bestest place on Earth,” she yelled. “Happy Winter Solstice to everyone!”
—The End—
Note From the Author
If you enjoyed reading Topper’s Magical Christmas, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them.
You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!
Many thanks for your support,
~ Donna McDonald
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Excerpt: Matchmaker Abduction
For a special deal on Book 1 of Aliens In Kilts visit the website at www.donnamcdonaldauthor.com/matchmaker-abduction!
Book Description
True love is said to defy time, but can it survive space, aliens, and being abducted? Angus MacNamara and Erin O’Shea are about to find out.
The big blue planet that most call Earth desperately needs matchmakers. There is only one small—okay, BIG—problem. No one wants the alien dating service job… No one. The original matchmakers are dead, and much worse, their DNA is no longer viable for cloning.
Solution? Go back in time to some of Earth’s other—thankfully slower spinning—versions, and retrieve the alternates of the one couple in any universe who seems able to do the job.
Far easier said than done though, especially when the alternates are anything but a loving couple, and both are none too pleased to be thrown into the future.
What does oil and water create? Salad dressing or a real mess of aliens, humans, and matchmaking fun!
Chapter One
Universe 6, May 15,1958, on a hill outside Lisdoonvarna, Ireland…
Angus MacNamara pulled the pistol from the holster on his kilt belt. He checked the chamber, made sure his shot was loaded, then looked down at the grave and glared. Love and hate had always been intertwined in his life. The harpy he had married over forty years ago had been his greatest pleasure and his darkest curse.
Love weakened a man’s resolve. There was no doubting that for him.
“Alright, woman. It’s been nine fecking years, but I finally kept my entire
promise to yer dying soul. Yer children are married well, even the stubborn ones. Ya have two grandchildren remembering yer name already, five still on the tit, and a few more on the fecking way because our sons and daughter are as lusty as we were in creating them.”
Angus huffed. “What’s that ya say? I hear ya fussing, even from six feet under. Why did it take so long, Angus? What have ya been doing all this time? This isn’t the 1800s, you crazed old crone. I couldn’t make them hardheads you bore do what they didn’t want to. In fact, I had to fecking bribe most of their intendeds to take them on. Without yer guidance, the last four never got their edges rounded off as well as the first three.”
Angus stomped his polished black brogue on the ground. The tassels of his father’s clan flapped from the top of his pristine white stockings. His kilt lifted, bringing a welcome breeze under it. Wool in the early summer was never a good idea for a man his size. But he’d wanted to look good today. Being as much Scottish as Irish, he’d wanted closure to come in style, which meant while he was wearing his plaid.
“Pay attention to me, woman. Stop rolling over down there and laughing at my misery. Do ya think it's been easy for me all these years without ya? Well, it wasn’t, ya cruel creature. I told ya not to die, but no… ya never did listen to me.”
“I knew ya lost yer flipping mind years ago,” a voice called. “Did ya call me out here to watch ya lose the rest of yer shit, Angus? I’d just as soon not be a part of yer descent into madness if I get a say in things. Plus, I have to tell ya true… the woman yar talking to will come back and haunt ya good if ya keep stomping on her grave like that.”
Angus jumped back from the grave and raised the pistol from his side to point it at the mounded dirt on the ground. Most of him was sure it wasn’t his Mary speaking to him from beyond the veil. He wasn’t that many sheets in the wind… or at least he hoped he wasn’t.
Suddenly a green-eyed glaring angel with shiny, golden brown hair and enormous breasts appeared. Instead of a robe of white, she was wearing some unfortunate man’s stolen pants as she stepped up to face him down. Had he shot himself already and forgotten about it in his dying state? That would just be his fecking luck.
The angel glared at him over Mary’s grave, but held up her hands at the pistol he finally raised and pointed at her. She wisely backed up a few steps which clued him in about what he was doing. One set of the angel’s fingers gripped a note which she shook at him furiously. If it was a page from the great Book Of Life about him, his angel was sure fecking mad about what was written on it.
Lowering the pistol, Angus wavered on unsteady legs, wishing now he hadn’t downed so many pints of Guinness. He’d thought it’d be easier to shoot himself if he was drunk. It never occurred to him that both heaven and hell would gang up against him and send a foul-mouthed angel his way as a final torment. He’d honestly thought ya got to settle yer accounts with St. Peter after ya passed on, but not before ya ended things.
He looked down at the grave again. “Ya could have fecking warned me about the avenging angel coming for me, Mary. What good is it being dead if ya can’t help those ya left behind? She looks mad as the devil ever could look, and now I have to deal with her all by my fecking self. I’ll not be forgetting this betrayal, ya laughing harpy.”
Erin swore under her breath at the way Angus was dressed. Though a tall woman who dwarfed most men in height, she’d always felt dwarfed herself by the nearly two meters tall Angus MacNamara. That was especially true when he was looking every bit of his Scots-Irish self dressed in his best Prince Charlie outfit. It was criminal the way the man’s long, sculpted legs were just meant for his stupid, fecking kilt.
Erin muttered a prayer for patience as she rubbed her forehead. Angus was a known horse’s arse when he was drinking, but he usually had the sense not to pack a fecking gun around while in such a condition. What a day this was turning out to be. She didn’t know whether to be worried for Angus’s sanity or to be in mortal fear for her own life.
“Did ya call me out here to kill me, Angus? Is that what this shit is about? I always knew ya were a competitive sort, but ya could at least try to force me to move first. Yer meddling has nearly ruined my business reputation in this town anyway. Fact is… I’ve been thinking about leaving Lisdoonvarna anyway. No one believes me when I say ya have been buying off the suitors when I know fecking well, it’s the only way ya could ever make a real match.”
“Erin? Erin O’Shea? Feck ya for not saying hello. I thought ya were an avenging angel come to torment me.”
Angus stumbled and had to plant his feet firmly to stay standing. He put a hand on his head, but it just wouldn’t stop spinning. Worse, Erin’s complaining always got through even the finest of liquors.
“Och… are ya daft, woman? Our relationship isn’t that twisted. I would never call ya out to Mary’s grave… not for any reason.”
Erin O’Shea reached out her hand and shook the paper in it. “Yar a drunken liar, Angus MacNamara. This is yer handwriting asking me to meet ya here or I’m as dead in the head as yer Mary down there.”
“Liar? I’m no fecking liar,” Angus barked. He shoved the loaded gun back in its holster, fuming because a man couldn’t even kill himself in peace in this town.
Stepping across Mary’s grave to get to the woman who’d both aided and hindered him in his matchmaking efforts, Angus yanked the paper from her steady fingers. Seeing them tremble a bit had him remembering that one night his weakness had decided to get the better of him. It had been so long since he’d had a woman, and the ale had gone to his head then too, and… feck it all. A living man had needs, didn’t he? It had only been the one time, but Erin O’Shea made it seem like he’d ruined her forever.
He looked at his writing on the note, bemused and befuddled by the realness of it. Even as tipsy as he was, he had to admit it was a damn fine replication. “I can see why ya thought this was mine, but I swear on Mary’s grave, I didn’t write this. Tell me truthfully, Erin… ya had this faked to torment me, didn’t ya?”
Erin fisted hands on her hips. “Why in the Goddess’s name would I bother faking a note from ya that had me traipsing out here to watch ya talk nonsense to a bag of bones in the ground? No one’s down there, Angus. Mary’s spirit left this world at her death. I’ve tried to tell ya that for years.”
Angus swung the letter around and shook it at her. “How should I know why ya would do something like this to torment me? Yar a woman, aren’t ya? That makes ya do things no man could ever understand.”
“Listen here, you drunken arse…” Erin began.
A throat clearing nearby interrupted her scolding and earned the interrupter a glare she usually reserved for her primary age students at the school where she taught. The throat clearer was just one of a group of five strange men staring hard at her and Angus. They were strangely dressed too. All looked like they were heading for a fancy French funeral.
The man who had interrupted them hid a smile as he coughed into his hand, but nodded at them both when he saw he’d finally gotten their complete attention.
“I’m Agent Black from Universe 1. And you are Angus MacNamara and Erin O’Shea from Universe 6. You’re very recognizable and it’s a pleasure to see you both in person.”
Angus pulled his pistol. He held it at the ready at his side and didn’t point it directly, but he wanted them to know he could… and would… use it if necessary.
“Who are ya and what do ya want?” Angus demanded. He watched the one who’d done all the talking so far turn to the nearest one behind him. Maybe it was the drink affecting his eyes, or the overcast day making everything dreary, but the men all looked nearly the same to him. He could scarcely tell them apart with their blackened glasses and blacker suits.
“Are we prepared to insert the U10 version?” Agent Black asked the one behind him.
“Yes, sir,” his near twin replied.
Angus cocked his weapon and lifted it. “I don’t think so, boy-o. None of ya will
be doing any inserting on me or my lady friend here.”
Erin put her hand on Angus’s arm. “Stop. They outnumber ya. And ya don’t even know what they’re meaning. Lower yer pistol before ya do something ya might regret.”
“Get behind me, woman. I’ll take a few of them out before I go. Maybe they’ll change their mind about what they intend to do to ya.”
Erin snorted and hung on, tugging his arm harder. “If this is another of yer practical jokes to get me behind ya just so ya can fart in my general direction, I’ll not be falling for it this time. Now I insist ya pull yerself out of yer Guinness haze. Lower yer fecking gun before the fecking thing goes off.”
“It’s alright, ma’am. I appreciate you trying to keep everyone safe, but it’s not necessary. The single bullet he loaded earlier has already been removed from Mr. MacNamara’s gun. He won’t be able to harm anyone even if he tries to shoot,” Agent Black said quietly.
Erin turned as Angus pointed the gun to the sky and shot. The trigger clicked, but nothing happened. He jerked from her grasp to examine his pistol.
“What the feck is going on here? It can’t be empty. I just chambered that round,” Angus declared.
Erin watched in stunned fascination as the one calling himself Agent Black calmly shrugged.
“Yes, sir. You did chamber a round. In the time space just after you performed that action and just before Ms. O’Shea arrived here, one of my men briefly inserted himself in a time stop and emptied the chamber while you were distracted with your speech. You were so determined to end your life that we thought it best to intervene a bit earlier than planned.”
Topper's Magical Christmas: My Crazy Alien Romance, Book 4 (Magic, New Mexico 40) Page 14
