Initially, I’d planned on getting Finn to bed before midnight so I could busy myself with playing Santa. That plan had gone the way of the dodo when my ornery uncles had unexpectedly shown up, then proceeded to play a rousing game of ghost Olympics with Darla, my ectoplasmic roommate.

  As I watched, Uncle Joey took a swig of his bourbon, swished the stuff dramatically around his mouth, before swallowing thoughtfully. Then he belched an enormous black smoke ring at Darla, who swooped gleefully through the hoop like a well-trained, giggly dolphin. That was Uncle Joey’s Traveller gift—he was able to burp up smoke. It was the second strangest gift I’d ever heard of, and I wasn’t sure it could even be categorized as a ‘gift’, but there it was. Uncle Tobias, also of Traveller Gypsy stock, possessed the first strangest gift I’d ever heard of, in that he could sniff out mushrooms, not unlike a Truffle-seeking-pig.

  The last time they’d visited (again, unannounced) had been a year or so ago, and Finn had been just as captivated with them then as he was now. Mom insisted they simply wanted to check in on me, but I think it was more along the lines that, as nomadic travelers who moved from place to place, they liked to hang their hats and put up their feet for a week or two. Good Lord, I could only hope they wouldn’t stay for two weeks like they had last time.

  Yes, they were family and yes, I loved them, but my goodness could the two of them get into trouble! And that trouble always had a way of including my impressionable son.

  But back to the antics currently taking place in my living room, thus far, Darla had beaten every obstacle, leaping over, through, and around smoke rings, bars, and hearts, the skirts of her deep pink, drop-waist silk dress flaring dramatically around her legs as she did so.

  That last bit was done mostly for Tobias and Joey’s benefit, of course. It wasn’t as if she got to entertain grown (and somewhat perverse) men often. She’d been dead for close to a century, shot in the head by her jealous lover, just before her career was about to take off in the roaring twenties. Or, at least that was her story. When we’d lived in the LA house, she’d constantly bemoaned her lack of male attention.

  Unfortunately for Darla, instead of a rippling hunk of man flesh moving into the shabby house in Silver Lake, she’d gotten... me. A middle-aged, single mother, struggling to support herself and her eleven-year-old son with a failing business and an increasingly horrid economy.

  I’m also a gypsy, descended from a long line of Scottish Travellers on my mother’s side, dating back to the 12th century. And that was the reason I can see ghosts, and more specifically, Darla.

  It’s not just gypsies who can see ghosts. Anyone with the right sort of magic can interact with spirits and luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it), my gypsy blood gave me, both my uncles and Finn that exact ability.

  As far as spirits go, Darla had been (and still was) a nuisance, but her lover, Frank, had been a nightmare, literally a poltergeist and one who’d targeted Finn. The time we spent at the Silver Lake house had been hell. I’d thought moving to Haven Hollow, Oregon, would give us a fresh start, far from the bustling LA traffic and far from poltergeists. And it had given us a fresh start, mostly. Except for one ghostly tagalong...

  At the sound of a knock on the door, I opened it to see Roy, my boyfriend, standing on the porch with a big smile. Unlike my uncles, Roy’s visit wasn’t a surprise. He’d spent the evening at his restaurant/ bar, The Half-Moon. Upon closing, he’d come to Wanda’s in order to give my friend, Marty Zach, a ride home (Marty had imbibed a few too many spirits—the physical sort). After dropping Marty off, the plan had been for Roy to come to my house to help me wrap presents and to do some… adult stuff of our own.

  Yeah, looked like that plan was now completely out the window. Well, the adult stuff part of it, anyway.

  As Roy enfolded me in his burly and enormous arms (Roy’s a shapeshifting sasquatch and his biceps are the size of my head) his eyes widened as he took in the performing circus in my living room. I quickly introduced him to Uncle Joey and Uncle Tobias, before they returned to their shenanigans with Darla.

  She, meanwhile, perched on the ceiling before performing a spectacular swan dive through a large, billowing black smoke ring, courtesy of Uncle Joey. Not that it was really such a feat, because it wasn’t as if linear space meant anything to the dearly departed.

  She grinned when a bout of furious clapping came from my uncles and son. Roy was less furious about his clapping but did manage to applaud with his enormous paws.

  “Ah, you guys are the bee’s knees!” she said, bowing at the waist and pretending to accept a standing ovation as she floated through the wall, before correcting herself.

  “Bah humbug,” I grumbled as I thought about the Christmas presents still sitting in the hall closet. It wasn’t as though they were going to wrap themselves…

  “Oh, come on, Poppy,” Roy said, placing a gentle kiss at the edge of my scowl. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  I gave him one of my annoyed looks that only managed to make him grin even more. Roy Osbourne was forty-six, and three years older than me. He’d missed his calling as the Brawny Paper Towel Man with his ridiculously broad-shoulders, short, thick brown hair, and his always-there stubble. He was perpetually tan, owing to the fact that he spent most of his time outdoors. The olive of his skin made his gray eyes stand out even more. He was handsome and then some. Just like every other supernatural man in this town…

  “It’s getting late,” I complained, looking at my son who was sandwiched between Uncle Joey and Uncle Tobias, and shrieking with laughter, along with both of them. I sighed as I looked back up at my boyfriend, who was still smiling down at me. “Finn needs to get in bed if you-know-who is going to come tonight.” I couldn’t hold my scowl for long as Roy leaned down to kiss me again.

  His thick bristles rasped against my cheek, making me squirm. Roy’s kisses were always a little ticklish.

  “Finn won’t be back in school for another week or more,” he coaxed, guiding me away from the others, into the kitchen and his arms. “He can stay up another fifteen minutes.”

  “Roy…”

  He lifted me up and onto the kitchen counter as if I weighed two pounds. Which I don’t. I’m not heavy, but I have a stubborn last ten pounds that doesn’t want to go on vacation anytime soon.

  Roy chuckled as he looked around the kitchen and took in the numerous boxes I still hadn’t unpacked. “Doesn’t look like you’re planning on staying here,” he said as he smirked down at me.

  “I just… figured I still need to start this house remodel and where better than the kitchen, so why unpack everything just to pack it up again?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve been talking about remodeling this place since you moved in. Have you even reached out to any contractors yet?”

  I pretended to throw something at him. “I’ve been busy!”

  He laughed again, shaking his head as he turned to more important subjects.

  “What do you have to drink?” he asked as he scanned his surroundings.

  “Uncle Tobias brought some ‘gut rot’, I think he called it,” I started.

  Roy laughed. “Pass.”

  “And Uncle Joey brought a case of beer.”

  “Pass.”

  I shrugged. “I’m drinking spiked eggnog.” I motioned to the glass, which I still held in my hand.

  “Ah, that’s what’s on your upper lip.”

  “I have something on my upper lip?” I asked, sounding all kinds of self-conscious as I rubbed the offending thing and pulled my hand away, inspecting it. There were a few crusts of cream. Gross.

  “Yeah, I was going to say you might want to consider electrolysis,” Roy said and ducked as I faux hit him.

  “Not funny,” I answered while he opened the fridge and helped himself to the eggnog. The rum was still on the counter and that was his second stop. I held out my glass for a fresh refill, and he happily obliged me.

  Then he helped me down from the counter and walked us both over to the loveseat, in full view of the festivities still erupting in my living room. Roy sat down first, pretty much taking up the entirety of the seat. He patted his lap, and I settled in on top of him, somehow managing not to jar the glass of eggnog in my hand.

  “Well, look at me, Mr. Squatch,” I teased, leaning into the strength of his arms, and sipping my boozy beverage. His body would have been the envy of any professional bodybuilder. “I didn’t even spill a drop of eggnog.”

  Roy’s eyes were half-hidden in the darkness of the room, naturally overshadowed by his prominent brow ridge. Even though the yeti within him was clear as day, it didn’t change the fact that Roy was handsome with a capital H.

  With all the holiday lights strung around the house, the shadows stretched long and in every direction. Still, I thought I caught a glimmer of amusement on his face when the lights on the tree shifted from red to green.

  “Careful, my little gypsy,” he murmured against my ear. “Can’t let anyone else hear you call me that.”

  Of course, he was right.

  Not long after I’d moved into Haven Hollow, I’d been roped into a spooky case by Marty and brought into close contact with Haven Hollow’s monster population. The Hollows were enchanted to keep ordinary people from learning about the supernatural, so we’d faced a choice. Sign an enchanted contract in blood, swearing not to tell anyone what we’d discovered, or face the consequences. We’d signed and that meant no one in the room, except Roy and me, knew what he was.

  “It’s just so strange,” I whispered, confident no one could hear our hushed conversation over Darla’s antics. She’d produced a copy of the Christmas Carol and was now reciting the more popular portions in Pig Latin (something I didn’t even realize she knew), while still weaving through smoke rings blown by Uncle Joey.

  “What is?” Roy asked.

  I gestured broadly at the room. “You. Us. This.”

  “What’s strange about them and us?” Roy asked.

  I gave him a look. “My gypsy uncles and my son are playing games with a ghost, we just got back from a party with a blood witch, a vampire and a group of ghost hunters, and I’m sitting on the lap of a bonafide bigfoot. You don’t think that’s strange?”

  My new witchy neighbor, Wanda, had invited Marty and the rest of his ghost-hunting friends to a Yule party at her house. It was the first show of warmth the rather unpleasant woman had revealed since arriving in Haven Hollow. And I’d taken it as a good sign.

  Most of us had been drinking, though probably not as much as I might have if Finn hadn’t been present. It ended up being a few glasses of eggnog here, and a little Christmas cheer there.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, it had bothered me when I caught Wanda flirting with Marty all through the night. I just… Marty was my friend and as such, I was protective of him. And I didn’t know much about Wanda, other than the fact she was a Blood Witch, turned by our resident dentist and vampire, Lorcan Rowe.

  Honestly, I really wanted to befriend Wanda, and I was hopeful we could someday be just that, but I also couldn’t discount the fact that witches, in general, were competitive and covens were full of backstabbing, conniving women whose pecking order rivaled the cruelty of your average high school hierarchy. And if that was how Wanda truly was, I wanted to protect Marty from her. Of course, I realized it really wasn’t my place and he was a grown man who could make his own decisions…

  Regardless, the one thing a witch couldn’t tolerate was a gypsy in her territory. Not that Haven Hollow was Wanda’s territory. Of course, she wanted it to be, but the only problem was she didn’t have enough money in order to claim it. And that was how I was still living here—hanging on by the skin of my teeth.

  Chapter Two

  Though we’d been dating for a little while, there was still a lot I didn’t know about my big, hairy boyfriend.

  “I guess it’s strange when you describe it like that,” Roy said as his fingers stroked the side of my face, then lightly skimmed over my bottom lip. Involuntary tingles ran up my spine. I wanted to kiss him, but with my uncles, Darla, and Finn in the living room with us, now wasn’t a good time.

  “You guess?” I laughed.

  He chuckled and I felt my insides turn to mush. He was just so handsome. And he was very sweet and caring—I was definitely a lucky woman and then some.

  Roy shrugged. “Even for a gypsy, Haven Hollow has to be an adjustment. Things work differently here. You never know who’ll turn up, or what you’ll be facing tomorrow.”

  “Like witches moving in across the street,” I said, thoughts once again straying to my neighbor.

  Yes, Wanda’s presence here, in Haven Hollow, was concerning and even though I hoped we could be friends someday, I had my doubts.

  “It seemed Wanda might have come around,” Roy said as he bopped his index finger on the end of my nose.

  I nodded. “She seemed… happy didn’t she? I wasn’t sure how she’d react when we all showed up unannounced.”

  Wanda was just hitting a hundred and forty, or around midlife for a witch. But, she didn’t have any of the markers to show her age. A few lines, sure, but she was childless. No stretch marks, very little cellulite, and boobs that still defied gravity. I couldn’t tell how much was magic and how much was just the luck of the draw.

  Roy gauged my expression with a big grin. “Why am I not surprised my little gypsy won her affections, just like you won mine?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I wouldn’t say I ‘won her affections’ exactly.”

  I set my eggnog on the side table next to the loveseat and listened to the fresh chorus of cheers and laughter from the Morton men. Darla cackled and sailed over our heads, but I kept my eyes on Roy’s handsome face.

  “I would say exactly that,” he answered and quickly leaned up, giving me a peck on the mouth.

  When he pulled away, he continued staring at me and I could tell heat was building between the two of us. Actually, ‘heat’ was an understatement—when it came to desire, Roy’s and mine was on another level. But, not wanting to visit that level, I changed the subject.

  “What do you think about Lorcan and Wanda?”

  “You know how I feel about Lorcan,” he answered, after giving me a side eye to say he realized I was purposely changing the subject. As regarded his feelings towards Lorcan, I did know Roy didn’t like Lorcan much—he thought the vampire was a lush and had more money than sense. I didn’t prescribe to Roy’s way of thinking though. I found Lorcan incredibly funny and amusing and he’d only ever been kind and generous to me.

  “No, silly, I mean… what do you think about them together?”

  Roy cocked his head to the side. “As much as the leech annoys me, I have to admit the two of them are pretty compatible—they probably have lots in common.”

  “Like what?” I asked, frowning. Even though I was fairly sure Lorcan had a crush on Wanda and I was also pretty sure she returned it (though she’d never admit as much), I wasn’t convinced they had anything in common.

  Roy chuckled. “Vampires and witches are more alike than you might think. They’re bloodthirsty, backbiting, politicking, snooty sorts of people.”

  I couldn’t help a loud, unattractive snort of laughter, and had to cover my face as all heads turned to face us for a second or two. Eventually Darla’s histrionics drew everyone’s attention again, and I had Roy all to myself. He continued with a small smile, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

  “Good luck to Lorcan if he is trying to woo Ms. Depraysie,” Roy continued.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that witches really don’t care for men. Or each other. Or anyone, really. They aren’t family-oriented.”

  Hmm, that raised a subject we’d never before discussed. “Are you family-oriented? I mean… do you want to have children and… all that?”

  “I’m actually bucking the sasquatch trend, waiting as long as I have to date again.”

  “Date again?”

  “I had a bad relationship a few years ago and it made me shy away from dating, in general, until you waltzed into my life.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “But, yes, my kind is very much about family and making more family and settling down, and I’ve been pretty slow to come back around to that way of thinking.”

  I eyed his profile as I felt my heart drop a bit.

  There is no way in hell I am having more kids, I thought to myself.

  At forty-three, I was done and then some. Of course I realized there were women having children later and later in life but I was pretty much done.

  No, you’re very much done.

  But, if Roy still wanted to have kids… hmm. It was probably worth finding that out now. “But you’re coming back around to the idea of having your own family?”

  He smiled at me. “I’m a little old for kids.”

  You’re what, forty-six? You aren’t too old.” It wasn’t that I was trying to talk him into it—I was more trying to ascertain just where he stood on the subject.

  “I’m eighty, Poppy.”

  My eyes went wide. “But, your Match.com profile said…”

  “Would you have believed me if I’d said I was eighty?” he laughed.

  “No,” I said as I frowned and shook my head. Roy didn’t look a day over forty really, but I was still stuck on the ‘Roy wants kids’ train.

  If that’s the train leaving his station, you aren’t on it, I told myself.

  “How… how long will you live?” I asked.

  “Most sasquatch live a little past a century and a half. My sisters all have mates and most of them have three or four kids. I’m the bachelor of the family.”

  I boggled at him, and a deep sense of disappointment settled over me before I could stop it.

  Eighty? He was basically twice my age and just reaching midlife! While on the one hand, it was nice to feel like the spring chicken of my social group, I couldn’t help but also find it distressing. Most of the relationships I was forging in Haven Hollow would outlast me by centuries. And that introduced a whole new question: why would Roy have decided to date me if he knew I’d never live as long as he would? And at forty-three, he had to assume I wouldn’t want any more children.