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    Christmas Present
    Christmas Present
    Christmas Present
    Ebook45 pages47 minutes

    Christmas Present

    By Kim Fielding

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    About this ebook

    A modern gay-romance twist on Dickens.

    Lewis loves his holiday job. As the Ghost of Christmas Present, he guides people to improve their lives. Sure, he’s a little lonely at home in Minnesota, but Fezziwig the cat keeps him company.

    When Lewis is spirited to California one Christmas Eve, he meets Sammy, an ex-lawyer who seems to already have his life in order. Lewis and Sammy share Korean fried chicken and a brief fling, but distance and career obligations appear destined to thwart anything permanent.

    Maybe this year, Lewis is due for a special gift of his own.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKim Fielding
    Release dateNov 11, 2019
    ISBN9780463853429
    Christmas Present
    Author

    Kim Fielding

    Kim Fielding is very pleased every time someone calls her eclectic. Winner of the BookLife Prize for Fiction, a Lambda Award finalist and three-time Foreword INDIE finalist, she has migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States and currently lives in California, where she long ago ran out of bookshelf space. She's a university professor who dreams of being able to travel and write full time. She also dreams of having two daughters who fully appreciate her, a husband who isn't obsessed with football, and a house that cleans itself. Some dreams are more easily obtained than others. Kim can be found on her website: http://kfieldingwrites.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KFieldingWrites and Twitter: @KFieldingWrites Her e-mail is kim@kfieldingwrites.com

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      Book preview

      Christmas Present - Kim Fielding

      T his boy is Ignorance, and this girl is Want, Lewis said in his most booming voice. Deny it if you want, but ignore them and you’re doomed. He wanted to add something about corporate tax cuts and slashing social welfare funding, but that might be taking it too far. Brevity was generally better anyway.

      Senator Ward’s eyes had grown huge, and he held shaking hands to his mouth. Can’t someone help them? he asked tremulously.

      Aren’t there prisons? Don’t we have zero-tolerance rules in their schools and neighborhoods?

      An invisible clock struck midnight. Lewis wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself, gave the senator a final stern glare, and disappeared.

      Disappearing was always an unsettling process. Tonight he stood in the darkness at the base of the Washington Monument one moment and the next he was in his own brightly lit living room in Minneapolis, the television blaring a scene from the middle of Die Hard. Lewis remained still for a minute or two as the floor steadied under his feet and his stomach resettled into its proper place.

      Another one down, he announced to Fezziwig the cat, who stared with mild interest from his perch atop the couch. Fez was accustomed to Lewis’s odd comings and goings. Even though the cat had panicked the first time he’d witnessed one of Lewis’s startling returns, he now took it as a matter of course. Lewis unbuckled the empty scabbard from around his waist and set it on an armchair. Then he unfastened his heavy green cloak and hung it near the door, giving the cloak’s fur trim a couple of strokes. It might be subzero outside, but Lewis’s apartment was cozy. Besides, his blood always ran warm around Christmas.

      "I hope this one takes. He seemed pretty affected by the kids, that’s for sure. But politicians are tricky ones. They look penitent when you leave ’em, but the next day they meet with a lobbyist and, poof, they forget they briefly had a conscience." He sighed heavily, disentangled the holly wreath from his curly hair, and hung it beside the cloak.

      Wearing nothing but a pair of black compression leggings, Lewis made his way to the kitchen. Fez rushed in to join him and jumped onto the counter beside the sink. Lewis turned on the faucet and watched Fez lap at the resulting trickle. Although Lewis kept the cat’s water bowl filled, Fez preferred running water.

      Well, if I didn’t get the job done with Senator Ward, maybe Yet To Come will. That spooky bastard scares the shit out of everyone. Lewis gave a little shudder. The few times he had encountered the guy—assuming he was a guy; impossible to tell beneath the black hooded robe—Yet To Come had never said a word. He just waved at Lewis with his bony hand. Not that androgynous Past was much better, with their tendency to grow random arms and legs or temporarily lose their head.

      Fez finished his drink and shook his head, splashing water onto Lewis and the counter before hopping down, strutting back to the living room, and settling onto the couch. Maybe he was a Bruce Willis fan. Lewis remained in the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee while nuking some leftover pizza. As he sat at the table, he hoped he’d get to

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