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    A Gothic Christmas Angel
    A Gothic Christmas Angel
    A Gothic Christmas Angel
    Ebook140 pages1 hour

    A Gothic Christmas Angel

    By Anna Erishkigal

    ()

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    About this ebook

    ~*~Winner of the 2014 eFestival of Words Best of the Independent eBook Awards - Best Novella~*~

    The Ghosts of Old Miseries are never far behind...

    Dumped by her boyfriend on Christmas Eve, Cassie Baruch thought her pain would end when she aimed her car at an ancient beech tree. But when a gorgeous black-winged angel appears and tells her ‘this ain’t no stinking paranormal romance, kid,’ she realizes death hasn’t solved her problems. Can Jeremiel help her exorcise the ghosts of problems past and find a little closure?

    This modern paranormal spin on the myth of guardian angels blends “13 Reasons Why” with “A Christmas Carol” and “It's A Wonderful Life” to give people hope they can come to grips with their problems and overcome.

    “Very few books move me to tears but this one did in the most glorious fashion. There is a message here, told with humor and grace. Wonderful!” —Reader review

    “She made me care. And she made me cry. And I’m very, very thankful for the ending.” —Reader review

    "A book that touched me like no other book has!" —Reader review

    "Once again Anna spins words into gold. The gothic twist to this modern Christmas Carol is terrific..." —Reader review

    "If I could, I'd give this story an infinity amount of stars! This book/story gave me chills." —Reader review

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSeraphim Press
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    ISBN9780985489656
    A Gothic Christmas Angel
    Author

    Anna Erishkigal

    Anna Erishkigal is an attorney who writes fantasy fiction under a pen-name so her colleagues don't question whether her legal pleadings are fantasy fiction as well. Much of law, it turns out, -is- fantasy fiction. Lawyers just prefer to call it 'zealously representing your client.'.Seeing the dark underbelly of life makes for some interesting fictional characters. The kind you either want to incarcerate, or run home and write about. In fiction, you can fudge facts without worrying too much about the truth. In legal pleadings, if your client lies to you, you look stupid in front of the judge..At least in fiction, if a character becomes troublesome, you can always kill them off.

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      Book preview

      A Gothic Christmas Angel - Anna Erishkigal

      A GOTHIC CHRISTMAS ANGEL

      .

      (A Children of the Fallen Novella)

      By

      Anna Erishkigal

      Copyright 2013 – Anna Erishkigal

      All Rights Reserved

      Synopsis

      Winner of the eFestival of Words Best of the Independent eBook Awards - Best Novella of 2014

      .

      The Ghosts of Old Miseries are never far behind…

      .

      Dumped by her boyfriend on Christmas Eve, Cassie Baruch thought her pain would end when she aimed her car at an ancient beech tree. But when a gorgeous black-winged angel appears and tells her this ain’t no stinking paranormal romance, kid, she realizes death hasn’t solved her problems. Can Jeremiel help her exorcise the ghosts of problems past and find a little closure?

      .

      This modern paranormal spin on the myth of guardian angels blends A Christmas Carol with It's A Wonderful Life to give people hope they can come to grips with the past and overcome.

      .

      Very few books move me to tears but this one did in the most glorious fashion. There is a message here, told with humor and grace. Wonderful! —Reader review

      .

      She made me care. And she made me cry. And I’m very, very thankful for the ending. —Reader review

      .

      A book that touched me like no other book has! —Reader review

      .

      Once again Anna spins words into gold. The gothic twist to this modern Christmas Carol is terrific... —Reader review

      .

      If I could, I'd give this story an infinity amount of stars! This book/story gave me chills. —Reader review

      Table of Contents

      Synopsis

      Table of Contents

      Isaiah 9:2

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      The Real-Life Archangel Jeremiel

      Join my Reader Group

      A Moment of your Time, Please…

      PREVIEW: The Auction Trilogy

      PREVIEW: Angel of Death

      PREVIEW: Sword of the Gods

      About the Author

      Other Books

      Copyright

      Isaiah 9:2

      The people that walked in darkness

      Have seen a great light:

      They that dwell in the land

      Of the shadow of death,

      Upon them hath the light shined.

      Chapter One

      Mom, I've got a customer here! I've got to go.

      Cassandra Baruch stuck her finger in her opposite ear so she could hear her mother's whining through the lousy reception of her cell phone.

      But it's Christmas Eve! Her mother slurred through the tiny speaker. You should be with your family, not some boy who treats you like your father treated me.

      Cassie pulled her iPhone away from her ear and stared at it with disgust. It wasn't even suppertime yet and already it sounded like her mother had hit the Jack Daniels whiskey. The line of people waiting to order coffee was now nine people thick. Every single one of them was giving her the evil eye for yakking on the phone instead of taking their order.

      Mom! Mom! Listen to me! Cassie gestured wildly to Ezra, her co-barista at this crap-hole of a coffee shop. Really. I'm gonna lose my job if you call me one more time while I'm still on shift.

      You're choosing that boy over your own mother? her mother blubbered. After all I sacrificed once your father abandoned us?

      Her mother's voice droned on and on, the same, tired old guilt trip, only today it was amped up on steroids because her mom had just gotten a phone call from her father.

      Cassie put her hand over the receiver and tried to make eye contact with the next customer in line, a tall, pinch-faced man wearing a loose grey pin-striped suit and a red bow tie. Pinstripe-suit man did not look back at her, but stared at his watch, his fingers moving to the count of seconds.

      I'll be right with you, Sir.

      I've been standing in this line for 11 minutes— the man did not make eye contact —and for all 11 of those minutes you have been on the phone.

      I'm sorry, Sir. Cassie pressed the phone against her green barista apron so the man wouldn't hear her mother getting warmed up in one of her histrionic fits. It's kind of a family emergency.

      Does somebody need you to call them an ambulance? The man leaned forward and poked his finger at her face.

      N-no, Sir. Cassie stared down at her Doc Martins. It's just … my father…

      And what did you do to your mother, young lady, to disappoint her that badly? Pinstripe suit man gestured towards the phone where her mother's high-pitched guilt trip filtered through the barrier of Cassie's clothing.

      Cassie gave her co-barista Ezra a helpless look. At six-foot-three with a build that would have made a strand of spaghetti look fat, Ezra was in the process of masterfully blending together a soy latte with one hand while steaming milk for a totally different customer with the other. He gave her a sympathetic grin, but with both hands busy, Ezra could be of no assistance.

      Her phone crackled where she'd pressed the speaker into the muffin-top which peeked over the waistband of her low-cut 'Lip Service' brand skinny pants.

      After all I've given up for you and this is how you repay me? her mother screeched out of the iPhone. One of these days you're going to come home and find me dead of a broken heart!

      Cassie scowled, debating whether to chuck the iPhone into the smoothie blender or humor her mother in the hopes it would stave off another full-blown bender. Her mother's shrieks grew so loud that all nine people in the line looked at one another, their faces embarrassed at being forced to overhear such a personal conversation. The man at the back of the line threw up his hands and left.

      I think I'd like to speak to your manager, pinstripe suit man said. He glanced at his watch. That's twelve minutes and thirty seconds.

      Cassie jerked the phone back up to her ear.

      Mom! she snapped. I can't talk about this right now! I'll see you sometime tomorrow afternoon. She hung up the phone and stared at it just long enough to set it to mute. As she did, she snuck a quick peek to see if she'd missed any messages. There were none. Mauricio still hadn't returned her call.

      She shoved the iPhone into her pocket and plastered on a false grimace that was the closest she could come to a smile, her cool grey eyes accentuated by the thick, black eyeliner which she used to give herself that popular, wide-eyed anime appearance.

      Just before she'd bugged out for the holidays, the manager had given her 'a talk' about her attitude if she wished to keep this job. No more thigh-high combat boots with more than a one-inch thick platform. No cut-out jeans with skulls painted onto them. Don't come to work dressed head-to-toe in black. No rings or excessive jewelry. No more than two earrings studded into her ear and nothing pierced through her nose except a single small stud. Cover up those tattoos. Jet-black hair is fine, but it has to be tied back neatly into a ponytail and absolutely no blatantly artificial colors like neon blue or fuchsia. Plain T-shirt with no 'Goth rock' band logos on the front like Alien Sex Fiend. Sheesh! All this for a job which only paid minimum wage?

      I'm very sorry, Sir— Cassie pretended to be nice to pin-stripe man. What can I get for you?

      'Up yours—' she thought silently to herself.

      I asked to speak to your manager— pin-stripe suit man tapped his watch —and I won't leave until I do. That's thirteen minutes and eight seconds.

      She's not here today, Cassie said. We're short-staffed because some of our people went away for Christmas.

      More like the manager ditched us for the week and then two people up and quit this morning. Flaptards…

      "When -I- was your age— pinstripe suit man shook his finger in her face —we prided ourselves on no customer ever spending more than three minutes from the moment they walked in the door until the moment they were handed their cup of coffee. Three minutes. Not thirteen! And we certainly weren't allowed to talk on the telephone!"

      Cassie resisted the urge to ask pinstripe man if he had also walked three miles uphill through a blizzard to get to work and made eye contact with the woman waiting impatiently in line behind him.

      How can I help you, Ma'am?

      Pinstripe man grabbed a wrapped biscotti off the counter and shook it at her like a policeman's baton. I'm not finished with you, young lady!

      "Yes you are— Cassie rolled her cool grey eyes. She looked right past him to the next person in line, a middle-aged woman who was a 'regular' here, though Cassie didn't know her name. Next?"

      The woman opened and shut her mouth, eager to get her coffee, not

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