Dillon Watson

Keile’s Chance Excerpt

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Dillon Watson

Back To Blue Excerpt

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Dillon Watson

Struck

    The words ‘nothing good can come of this’ rattled around in my brain as I watched Deryl’s feeble attempts to erect the tent. We’d been in the god forsaken place for thirty minutes already and I was more than ready to go. I’d be the first to admit I was out of my element here in the so called ‘great outdoors’. Camping to me was something little kids did in their backyards, knowing the safety net of the house was only a quick sprint away. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Not the way it was, with me standing, okay cowering, in the woods with only the trees and bushes for company. At least I wanted to believe the trees and bushes were my only worry. But this child of the city couldn’t. I knew creatures of the night were out there lurking, waiting for me to drop my guard. It was going to be one of the longest nights of my life. And for what? Friendship and all the ties that bind. Something in the trees behind me stirred and I turned around, fully prepared to be eaten by a wild animal or fall to the hands of a psycho killer. Somehow the winds had picked up without me noticing and it was whipping through the branches, rustling the leaves, but you couldn’t tell that to my pounding heart. I hated nature. I really did. I’d take the comforts of a climate controlled environment any day. An expletive had me turning back to find Deryl beating poles against the ground. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the two she’d been trying to fit together for the last twenty minutes. “We could go back,” I dared to suggest. Her snarl brought the image of a werewolf to my overactive imagination. Not a good thing when you’re in the woods under a stormy looking sky. “Damn her, she said it was easy,” Deryl said. “Said it only took ten minutes.” “Of course Sue thinks it’s easy. She goes camping as often as you change your underwear. That would be every other week by my account.” I expected her to laugh or comeback with a smartass remark. Instead she dropped to the ground, the very picture of dejection. “I’m a failure, Clarry. I suck at putting together tents as much as I suck at love.” There was plenty of truth to that. Deryl was quick...

Dillon Watson

Guilty – (sequel to Rollercoaster)

  “We find the defendant guilty on all counts.” Mission accomplished. I clapped. It didn’t matter now if the judge threw me out of the court for unruly behavior. We had the bitch dead to rights. Despite her best efforts, we’d won. Gina Antonelli turned to me and if looks could kill, I would have been ashes. But they can’t, so I returned her glare unflinching and mouthed ‘for my father’, the good cop she’d taken down to get her start. She cursed and fought against the restraints. I smiled. She didn’t scare me. Not after all she’d done to keep me from delivering the star witness to court on time. The witness who’d hammered enough nails into Gina’s coffin so it looked like a sieve. The witness whom Gina had been stupid enough to piss off. The witness who had turned me inside out. Angelica Narduchi. I remember the first time I saw her. I was drawn to the beautiful face with the cat-like green eyes and full lips. The curly hair that fell in waves down her shoulder hadn’t hurt. But it was the anger that sizzled around her that sealed the deal. I could tell she was the one who would help me bring Gina down the right way—stripped of her power and behind bars. I didn’t know then how right I was. Angelica never complained at being cooped up with mostly me for company. Never complained about moving from place to place without a moment’s notice because another agent had been bought off. Never complained about the imminent threat of going out in a blaze of bullets. She just never complained, wearing her anger over Gina’s actions like a protective cloak. And over time, especially the last month when we could only depend on each other, I came to respect the person she was. Trust the person she was, knowing she had my back. In the end, she was protecting me as much as I was protecting her. Maybe because of that I came to see the shades between black and white—me, who had always seen only right and wrong with nothing in between. I came to understand how she could have been a part of Gina’s world and still be a decent human being. And I came to enjoy the time spent with her. To enjoy watching the way she moved, the way she reacted, they way she was. In the end, I came...

Dillon Watson

Undercover Tail

Caution: May be too hot to read at work. I watched how the muscles on the side of her thighs tightened as she stretched.  How the thin white t-shirt pulled against her broad shoulders.  Damn!  She was hot – more so, because she didn’t seem to know.  It was a crying shame her sense of honor kept her from sliding between my thighs.   I sighed loudly, desperate to draw her attention to me.  I knew she’d feel compelled to look my way.  Those dark brown eyes would check out my body, but only to make sure I was okay.  That was her job – to make sure I was okay.  My job was to stay alive.  My wish was to get in her pants.   She turned her head dutifully, her eyes always watchful.  ―Everything okay, ma’am?‖ she asked politely.   I returned her look with an appraising stare, smiling when I saw her shoulders stiffen.  I’d learned that meant she was uncomfortable.  ―Everything is as fine as it can be, Agent Washington.‖  After another sigh, I returned to the book I was pretending to read.   ―Are you sure, ma’am?‖  Her smooth voice sounded troubled.  ―I’m here to help.‖   Just not the kind of help I want!  ―Really, I’m okay.‖  Crazy, but okay.  It was crazy for me to be thinking about sex when my ex had offered up a price for my dead body.  Gina wanted to silence me as much as I wanted to talk.  In a way it was ironic because I was always the silent one in our relationship.   Remembering the promise I’d made to never look back, I looked up from the meaningless words that couldn’t seem to grab my attention.  My breath caught in my throat as I was presented with the sight of black nylon shorts shaping a taunt, round behind.  Maybe thinking about sex with Agent Washington wasn’t so crazy.  If I had to go, would it be so bad if my head was between her strong thighs and my hands were filled with her luscious ass?  I breathed in, and it was almost as if I could smell the scent of her passion.   I spread my legs, to release some of the tension from my thickening clit, and looked away with a rueful grimace.  Obviously, the seriousness of my situation had no ill effect on my libido.  And in some ways, I think the danger...

Dillon Watson

Rollercoaster –
Sequel to Undercover Tail

I awoke to the sound of gunfire. Years of living with my gangster ex-girlfriend, Gina had me trained. Grabbing the glock from under my pillow, I silently lowered myself to the floor. My heart was pounding, fueled by the rush of adrenaline. This was the closest Gina had every gotten and I took a moment to wish her in hell. Not for myself, but for the innocents who had probably died trying to protect me. Me, who wasn’t so innocent. “Ma’am, are your hurt?” Even at a whisper, Special Agent Washington’s voice sent a tingle down my spine. “I’m fine. What’s the plan?” I asked, reaching for the clothes I’d taken off a couple of hours ago. “Wait here.” She crossed the room, put her ear to the door, and listened. The silence was almost louder than my pounding heart. “Prepare to move out,” she said five minutes later. As quietly as possible we gathered our meager belonging. When we left the bedroom, wearing bullet proof vests, I made no attempt to hide my gun. I didn’t know about her, but I was ready to shoot anything that moved. I regretted that Gina wouldn’t be out there to look me in the eye. No, she was somewhere safe, in plain view of the watchers. It made for a good alibi. “Stay behind me. If we get separated, go up to the fifth floor.” She handed me a room card. “Nobody at the bureau knows about the room. You’ll be safe there, ma’am.” I liked the way she thought. We should have done this sooner. “You don’t trust anybody, do you?” She shook her head, her expression grim. “Because of the previous problems, only a handful of agents who knew we were here. Remember to stay with me, and to stay low.” I nodded, thinking, didn’t she know sticking to her was no a hardship for me. Agent Washington was the kind of leader who instilled respect by her actions, not by threats. Yet another reason I found her so damn sexy. I wasted a second wishing we had met at another time in another place before clearing my head of everything but the need to survive. As we crept out of the suite without a shot fired, I figured somebody downstairs was still on our side. She led us on a seemingly circuitous path, involving stairwells and hallways. Obviously she’d been casing out the place on her daily runs....

Dillon Watson

Sheena’s Sight

Disclaimer: This story is mostly mine.  I borrowed from the Wizard of Oz which does not belong to me.  I‟m sure the lion from MGM would turn over in his grave if he knew how I misused parts of the movie. That being said, there is no sex and no violence, just zaniness.  Sorry, but I was feeling a little crazy and let it out the only safe way I have available to me. Sheena Lynette Masterson couldn‟t say exactly when she had her first psychic experience.  Her mother claimed it was when Sheena was three and told her parents about the fire at grandma‟s house.  Her father thought it was when she told them about the location of a lost ring at two and a half.  Her siblings preferred not to think about it.   Having this ability had not always been in Sheena‟s best interest.  When she was six, she had a vision of her oldest sister‟s boyfriend kissing another girl.  She had immediately run to her sister, Margaret, and ratted out Danny.  Instead of getting her sister‟s gratitude, Sheena had gotten a pop upside the head and instructions to mind her own business.   Then when she was seven, she‟d “seen” her brother, Tommy, skinny dipping with Lisa Hackerman.  She had hesitated a minute, remembering Margaret‟s warning, before running to her mother and telling all.  When her brother found out who‟d ratted him out, he popped Sheena upside her head and told her to mind her own business.   After being popped upside the head for the second time, Sheena decided she would keep her mouth shut, and pretend her special ability had gone away.  But silence wasn‟t something she knew much about, and when a week later she saw her sister, Lilly, changing her report card, Sheena felt honor bound to tell.  Even knowing that she would get a pop upside the head didn‟t keep her from going to her mother and tattling.   Lilly, who was only a year older than Sheena, gave her little sister much more than a pop upside the head.  Sheena was saved from a thorough thrashing when their mother, alerted by Sheena‟s screams, came to the rescue.  For almost a year after that, Sheena hardly said a word about anything.  She would speak only if asked a question, despite having to almost swallow her tongue on a number of occasions.  But she figured that swallowing her tongue was easier...

Dillon Watson

On Her Doorstep

As Stacy Rutherford pulled into her driveway after a particularly stressful day at work, her cell phone rang.  Temporarily distracted by thoughts of killing her cell phone, along with the caller, she missed seeing her dog sitting on the front porch.  She also missed seeing the kitten dangling from her dog‟s mouth.  Although she had a good idea who was calling, she still checked the caller ID, and then shared a few choice words with the ringing phone.  She‟d already spent most of the week dodging calls from her soon to be ex-friend, who was trying a little too hard to set her up on a blind date.  So what if I haven’t had a date in a year.  I’m not that desperate…yet. The phone had stopped ringing by the time she entered the kitchen and kicked off her high heels.  With a sigh of relief, she wiggled her toes.  She hated high heels almost as much as she hated the panty hose and monkey suit she‟d been forced to wear at the corporate offices.  “Thank the Goddess, that‟s over for another year,” she said, shimmying out of the dreaded panty hose.  Too bad the summer outdoor burning ban was in place, or she would have burned them in effigy. She‟d almost made it to her bedroom when she realized something was missing.  “Tas!”  Usually her three year old Great Dane was right by the door, ready to greet her.  She quickly made her way to the deck overlooking the fenced-in back yard.  “Tas.  Where are you boy?”  Stacy leaned over the railing and scanned the yard for her beloved companion.  “Come on, I promise I won‟t get too upset at whatever you broke this time,” she cajoled after a minute of silence.  As big as he was, Tas was a scaredy-cat—especially when he thought he was going to get punished.  “Okay, I‟m going back in.  Come in when you‟re ready,” she called over her shoulder and entered the house, muttering about the mess awaiting her. Can this day get any worse?  In answer to her question, someone began knocking on her front door, and her cell phone rang.  She glared at the white living room ceiling.  “It was a rhetorical question!” Stacy snatched up the cell phone, turned it off, and for good measure, stuffed it under a sofa cushion.  Then she waited a minute, hoping the knocking would go away.  No such luck.  “I‟m coming!” she yelled...

Dillon Watson

KENDAL

Kendal approached the phone as though it were a bomb. She lifted it gingerly from the holder quickly dialing the number she knew by heart. Her heart pumped furiously as she waited for the phone to be answered. Torn between being relieved and being anxious, she heard the electronic voice signifying the answering machine. “Jeff, it‟s Kendal,” she replied after the beep. “I have to talk to you. It‟s urgent!”…

Dillon Watson

Gutter Balls and Strikes

Jessica Hale exploded off the sofa, shouting, “That was pass interference, you moron.” For added measure, she walked to the TV and thumped the referee who missed the call. She turned around to catch her friend, Sydney Turner, rolling her eyes. “What? Anybody with eyes can tell that was interference.” “Maybe if you moved your ass, I could see it in replay.” “So now you don‟t trust my vision?” Jess pushed her glasses up on her nose and returned to the sofa, easily dodging the popcorn thrown her way. “Pig.” “Thank you.” Sydney bowed her head before turning her attention to the game. “You‟re right, that was a mugging.” “If you were actually paying attention to the game, you would have seen that the first time around. What‟s that you keep looking at, anyway?” “Nothing, really. A flyer.” “A flyer?” Jess laughed. “She must have been hot.” Sydney wiggled her eyebrows. “Smokin‟. It‟s for a charity bowling thing. You pledge to donate fifty cents for every point you make.” “They wouldn‟t make much off me. You know I can‟t bowl worth a damn.” “So, does that mean you want to go?” Jess looked at her friend like she was crazy. “Hell, no. I don‟t do sports where you have to put your feet into shoes millions of other people have worn.” She returned her attention to the game. As far as Jess was concerned, the discussion was over. “Will you look at that? I missed a touchdown fooling with you.” She jiggled the University of Oklahoma cheerleading doll she‟d gotten ten years ago as a gag gift. In earlier years, she would pull the string in Little Miss Red‟s back and make her talk to celebrate an OU touchdown. But too many drinking games had worn Red out, so Jess settled for making her do flips. “I can‟t believe you still have that doll,” Sydney said, reaching over to smooth down Red‟s skirt. “Brings back a lot of memories.” She smiled at her best friend. In looks they were opposite. Sydney with her blond hair-blue eyed all-American looks versus Jessica, with black hair-brown eyed Native-American looks. But in most everything else, they were kindred spirits. Jess nodded. “Best secret Santa gift I ever received.” Sydney had given her the doll their junior year in college and Red still had her honored place on Jess‟ bed, except for when, like today, OU football games were televised “Are you feeling sentimental...

Dillon Watson

Grits and Buggies

“No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. This could not have happened to me. Sure I‟d heard about unscrupulous gangs who got rid of their unwanted puppies by placing them in unattended shopping carts, but damn, I‟d only been gone for thirty seconds top. Okay, so maybe I‟d been gone a little longer. Somehow I knew the puppy, who had made itself comfortable in my buggy, didn‟t want to hear it was the cute blonde‟s fault it had taken me a couple of minutes to grab a bag of organic oatmeal. I mean, what could I do when she flashed me a smile that lit up her green eyes and dimpled her cheeks? I‟ll tell you what I did. I used my five-inch height advantage to get the last bag of stone-ground grits. The one she had to have or the following morning would be shot. I admit I was thinking about sharing the following morning with her as I got on my tip toes, plucked the bag off the shelf and basked in the glow of her smile of thanks. Hell, I might have even zoned out for a couple of seconds when she put her arms around my waist and gave me a quick hug. But the cute blond Labrador puppy in my buggy didn‟t care about any of that. I made the mistake of looking into its big brown soulful eyes. It was too much after being under the onslaught of blondie‟s smile. I folded like a John at a hooker‟s convention and started thinking of arguments that might fly with my five-year old greyhound, Thomas, who‟s told me on numerous occasions he enjoys being a single child. Thomas doesn‟t use words so much as growls. “I hope you know the trouble you‟re causing me.” I tried to look stern and failed miserably. I know at one time I had a backbone, but over the years it had softened to gristle. The puppy licked my face as if in apology and I was totally gone. Thomas would just have to understand drastic times and all. Accepting my fate, I picked up the pup to discover I‟d given birth to another boy. Feeling better than I should have, I steered my buggy through the open-air market to the dog food section and tried to come up with a name. Buggy was the obvious choice, but I‟m sure there are quite a few of those already. ***...

Dillon Watson

Fair Deal

“Mom, look!” Avery Bullard‟s excited voice rang out from the back seat as they crested the hill near Moreland Avenue.  “Rides.”  She pressed her face to the window, eyes aglow.  “Can we go?” Kendra smiled at the wonder in her seven year old daughter‟s voice.  The fair, billed as City Escape, did look impressive, spread over the parking lot that used to serve a large strip mall.  “You have to make a choice, sweetie. The fair, or dinner and a movie?”  She stopped at the light and turned for a quick glance at Avery. “The rides,” Avery replied without hesitation.  “I wanna go on that big wheel thingy.” “That‟s a double Ferris wheel.  If you‟re lucky, they stop it when you‟re at the very top to let other riders get on and you can see for miles.” “Cool.  Do you think they have those cars that bump into each other?” “I‟m sure they do.  It looks big enough to have almost everything.” “Is it as big as Disney World? I wanna go there one day.” Avery‟s voice was full of longing.  “They have a castle and a mountain.  I‟m gonna be a princess when I grow up.” Kendra didn‟t voice her surprise. This was a radical shift for her cowboy-astronaut-stunt woman daughter.  “What does a princess do?” she asked, making a left onto Moreland Avenue.  As a reward for getting a good progress report, Kendra was treating Avery with a favorite treat, dinner-time breakfast at Huddle House. “She plays with frogs, lives in a castle, and sometimes she gets to be king. Being king is kind of good „cause you get to tell everybody what to do.  And I wouldn‟t have to make my bed anymore, or do any chores.” “I‟m sure you‟d like that,” Kendra said dryly.  Getting Avery to do anything remotely connected with housework was a constant battle in their household.  “But I don‟t understand why you don‟t just want to grow up to be a king?” “Because they don‟t play with frogs.”  Her tone strongly suggested that her mother should have known the answer.  “So is it as big as Disney World?” It took Kendra a moment to figure out what Avery was talking about. She‟d been busy wondering about her daughter‟s new obsession with frogs, and where it might lead. “No, Disney World is like a small city.” “Oh.  When can we go?” “To Disney World?” “No!  The fair.” Kendra couldn‟t stop the sigh...

Dillon Watson

Eccentric

I walked into the small, dark bar and felt everyone‟s eyes on me.  I was expecting somebody to yell out “Norm” like they did on that old nineties show.  And that would have been okay with me. Anything was better than what I was experiencing – women peering at me through squinted eyes, looking like they didn‟t trust what they were seeing.  I couldn‟t blame them, because I didn‟t trust what I had been thinking when I got the great idea to go out dressed as one of my favorite characters from of book. I should point out that it wasn‟t Halloween. It had seemed so cool, imagining the character from the book going everywhere dressed in stylish pajamas and a matching tie.  I guess that just goes to show you what a good writer the author of the book is, „cause on me it didn‟t look cool at all.  To make matters worse, I‟d stuck a cowboy hat on my head. It did match my boots perfectly, but clashed with the symbols on my pjs. I won‟t say what symbols it clashed with.  It‟s enough to know that it did. Pretending that women weren‟t looking at me as if I was an alien, I strutted up to the bar like I owned the place.  I really wanted to order the hard stuff.  I had this crazy idea it might help me forget I looked like a complete idiot. Strike that. I don‟t think complete idiots would have wanted to be associated with me.  I settled for a beer, knowing I need to keep my wits about me. Channelling Xena, the Warrior Princess, I slowly drank my beer and waited for some smuck to hassle me.  In my mind, I‟d be yelling the warrior cry and smashing bodies all over the place.  In reality, I‟d probably get my glasses busted and end up trying to crawl my little geek ass to safety. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?” I turned to look at the face that went with the sexy voice, and almost fell to the floor.  She was gorgeous.  That is, her tits were gorgeous.  I couldn‟t really seem to see anything else until she lifted my chin.  Did I mention I was only five feet two and a half inches? To me, she looked like she was seven feet tall and gorgeous everything to go with the tits. I knew right away she‟d either lost a...

Dillon Watson

American Idle

I heard about this great contest the other day.  I know what you‟re gonna say, I never win anythin‟.  But this time it‟ll be different.  This thing was designed with me in mind.  It‟s called American Idle. Well I am American, and I am idle a lot of the time.  At first I was a little worried „cause I thought it was for them people with long drives to work, and I knew I couldn‟t be the best at that. Then my friend Sam told me not to be so stupid, that they were looking for people who idle their time away not their cars. Well hell, that‟s me personified.  So Sam and I grabbed a sixpack, sat on the back porch and tried to think up the questions you‟d have to pass to win the prize.  And what a grand prize it would be. I figured it was a two week vacation to one of them fancy resorts where all you did was sit around and do nothing all day until it was time to sleep.  Yeah, paradise. Anyways, Sam and I came up with three questions we thought they might ask. Number 1: How many hours can you waste on a good day doing nothin‟? Shoot, I knew I had it just by that question alone.  On my best day, I can easily spend 24 hours layin‟ around like a coma patient. Number 2: How would you place yourself on the following scale, where: 1: is feel guilty if I don‟t get at least ten minutes of accomplishin‟ somethin‟ once a day. 2: Think about getting‟ ten minutes of somethin‟ accomplished each day; 3: Would like to thing about getting‟ 4: Think about thinkin‟ about getting‟ 5: Pride myself on not thinkin‟.  I‟ll let you guess my answer. and Number 3: Write a sentence on your philosophy towards idleness. We figured they always have to sneak in a question that makes you write somethin‟.  If nothin‟ else so they can judge how long you‟ve really been idle.  Well, this was a hard one – especially after having three beers each.  I sent Sam back to the house to get us some more cool ones, so that we could reflect on the answer. It took some doin‟ and two more beer before it hit me.  My philosophy is “Proud to be the American Idle.”  Shit, what more could they want? Now I would a gone to their web...

Dillon Watson

A Christmas Carol II –
Saving The Best For Last

Jackie Stevens frowned when she noticed the woman standing too close to Gabby. Her frown turned to an outraged scowl, when she noticed the woman was eye level with Gabby‟s breast. Not on my watch! Not bothering to question the anger simmering in the pit of her stomach, she pushed her way through the crowded food court, mindful of the six-month old baby attached to her front. Her anger dissipated quicker than air in a popped balloon when Gabby‟s face lit up with a welcoming smile. Gabby leaned forward and gave the sleeping baby a light kiss. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked, placing a hand on Jackie‟s arm. Jackie nodded, looking over Gabby‟s shoulder. “Who‟s your friend?” she asked softly. Gabby was momentarily confused before remembering the woman she‟d been talking with. It was getting harder and harder to think about other women when Jackie was around. “She works at the Disney store. I was passing the time while I waited for you.” “And what were you doing in the Disney Store?” Jackie teased, trying to peek into the large bag Gabby was holding. Her birthday was in two weeks, and she was fairly certain her gift was in the bag. For the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to celebrating another year on earth. “I‟m sorry, ma‟am, you‟re on a need to know basis.” Gabby tightened her grip on the bag. She wouldn‟t put it past her inquisitive friend to snatch it from her. Jackie had been acting like a little kid, trying to guess what she would be getting for her thirtieth birthday. Gabby hid a smirk, not wanting Jackie to figure out that the present in the Disney bag was for Angel. Jackie‟s presents were safely hidden at home. “Excuse me.” The forgotten woman tapped Gabby on the arm. “I need to get back, and I was wondering if you wanted to catch a cup of coffee with me sometime.” Jackie‟s body almost recoiled from the surge of anger that erupted. How dare you try to get a date with my girlfriend! Girlfriend? When had she started thinking of Gabby as her girlfriend? They were just friends. The fact that she didn‟t do, or plan, anything without first considering Gabby or Angel didn‟t count, right? Friends were considerate of each other‟s feelings, and they spent time together. But they don’t spend all their time together, and they...

Dillon Watson

A Christmas Carol

Gabriella Renee Jones laughed at the jovial-looking person reflected back at her from the full length mirror.  The green elf suit fit her better than she’d thought it would, although the pants were a little short on her long legs.  Obviously they hadn’t planned on a six-foot elf.  She pulled her curly brown hair back in a ponytail and attached the pointed ears.  Now she was ready to help entertain children and hand out presents at Shane’s annual toy giveaway.   She always enjoyed the party, in part because it meant there was only a week until her birthday.  After thirty-two years she’d gotten used to sharing it with Jesus.  After all, he had been born long before her.  When Gabby was little, she used to pretend she was the daughter of Mary – the Virgin Mary that is.  She wasn’t born in a manger, but she was discovered in a barn the day after Christmas.  And according to her adoptive mom, a star had been twinkling bright in the sky when she’d trudged through the snow to the barn in the early morning hours to feed the animals.   Gabby smiled thinking of all the times her mom had told the story of tripping over the baby and falling in love.  Bessie Jones had also admitted, somewhat guiltily, that she’d been happy when no relatives came forward to claim the baby girl with the tufts of blond hair and café au lait skin, which hinted at her mixed heritage.  She and her husband readily opened their hearts and home for Gabriella, as they named her.   She still missed them, but the love they’d showered her with was strong in her heart.  There hadn’t been a lot of money when she was coming up, but she and her brothers had never wanted for the important things.  She crossed the room and picked up the photo she kept by her bedside.  “Thank you,” she whispered, and kissed her parent’s images.  “I know you’re up there looking out for me.”  She replaced the photo as her cell phone buzzed.  Gabby smiled when she noticed the caller’s name.  “House of elves, how can I serve you?”   “You can give me a ride, for one.  I can’t believe I let you talk me into being Mrs. Clause,” Jacqueline Stevens grumbled.  “You know I don’t do dresses.”   She suppressed a laugh.  “Hold on, I think I have my violin around here...