Twelve Graves of Christmas – A Jane Ladling Mystery Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Novella, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
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Knock, knock. The hard double rap sounded at Jane’s bedroom door, and she sucked air between her teeth. Conrad!

“He’s here,” she whispered to Rolex. In a matter of seconds, their date would begin. She forced any lingering thoughts of maps and newspaper articles and journal entries from her mind. Almost. She’d come home with pictures of everything she’d studied at the library, but so far she’d learned nothing new. And yet, the map remained a niggle she couldn’t shake.

Her furry beast of love dropped the ornament he’d been carrying between his teeth, hopped on the bed and lifted his leg to lick his belly. Oh, how precious! He wanted to look his best, too.

Tremors sped through Jane’s limbs as she slid her gaze to the clock on her nightstand. 6:51 p.m.. The tremors worsened. Conrad had arrived nine minutes before she’d expected him. Impatient to see her? Even early, though, his timing couldn’t have been better. She’d just finished crocheting both parts of the broken heart Fiona had given her, keeping her hands busy as she considered all things gold and Garden. Now she had only to sew the pieces together, creating the perfect metaphor for mending her own heart.

Palms damp, Jane smoothed the sides of her dress. A black, curve-hugging number she’d paired with a 1930’s mourning hat. A shoulder length ebony veil cascaded over the wide brim. She’d even gone the extra mile and strapped on high heels.

One last glance at her hair—she’d pinned the sides beneath the hat, the rest free-flowing and curling at the ends. Not a strand out of place. Excellent. She settled a wool wrap around her shoulders, drew in a deep breath, and opened the door to her…boyfriend.

At the sight of him, her heart swelled and her skin warmed. Oh, wow, he looked good. Beyond good. Glorious! He hadn’t shaved this morning, and a thicker shadow covered his strong jaw. The dark suit fit him like perfection itself. He’d gone with a black collared shirt and a silk tie. His Oxfords gleamed. Freshly polished? In his hands waited a bouquet of jet-black roses.

“Jane.” His amber gaze slid over her and the corners of his mouth lifted with delight. “You are exquisite.”

At the base of her throat, her pulse jumped. “And you are…mine,” she rasped. For now.

His smile deepened. “The best of all my features.” He offered her the flowers, and she blushed with pleasure as she accepted the sweet-smelling blooms. Their inky color made her think he suspected the activity she had planned.

She clutched the bouquet close and extended her free arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” As he twined his fingers through hers, he asked, “Our destination?”

“Valley of the Dolls.” A section of the Garden without bodies, thanks to a maze of interlocking tree roots. There, she had hosted funerals for her deceased toys, living her childhood dream of becoming a funeral director. Ah. Such sweet memories.

As Conrad led her downstairs, Rolex darted past them. Probably on the hunt for Cheddar, ready for a new staring contest.

Speaking of… “Where’s the sweetest dog on the planet?”

“He’s spending the night with Uncle Beau.”

They exited the house through the back door, entering the chill of the night. This morning, she’d created a path of colorful LED globes to the Valley of the Dolls. The scenic route. They went through Angel Wing, the Reflection Center, passed the headstone of the resident dog, Muffin, through Autumn Grove, Pleasant Green, and Serenity Rose.

“The owner of the house accepted my offer,” Conrad said. “We sign papers the week after Christmas.”

“Oh, that’s so wonderful. Congratulations. You are going to be so happy there.”

“Agreed.” They entered Paradise Ladling, where Conrad paused. Twinkle lights glowed from trees. Simple grapevine wreaths topped with sprigs of pine decorated each gravestone. Pinecones coated in peanut butter and dipped in birdseed kept the Garden’s wildlife happy and fed.

He squeezed her hand, wonder etched in his expression as he looked around. “I’ve never been in this section at night. It’s enchanting. And that is not a word I ever thought to use, but no other description fits.”

This particular man didn’t brush off her admittedly odd, well, oddities; no, he encouraged them.

Someone who appreciates her quirks. His very words after Jane had asked him to describe his ideal woman.

A dreamy sigh left her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. How she loved breathing in his incredible scent. “Come on,” she said. “The ceremony is about to start. We just need to follow the paper lanterns.” Nighttime funerals weren’t the norm, but occasionally a family had asked for an evening vigil; she always prepared the Garden with dozens of paper lanterns, sand and LED candles.

Brows furrowed, he strode forward, keeping her tucked into his side as they entered the Valley of the Dolls. “Ceremony?”

“Mmm mmm.” So he actually had no clue about her plans. How wonderful! The less he knew, the better the surprise.


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