“A Very Grimoire Christmas” is up on Kindle Vella!
Five episodes are ready for you, and another short episode will publish every day through Thursday. Each episode has author notes, plus a full episode of them at the end, with fun Victorian research facts and tidbits about the story!
This Victorian Christmas short story is filled with Victorian Christmas traditions, your favorite Grimoire characters, and holiday cheer. As always, the first 3 episodes are free!
Scroll down for an excerpt.
December 24, 1850
Carmichael walked into the second parlor room with two silver serving trays. The one atop his right hand balanced glasses of what looked like hot mulled wine and hot toddies. The silver serving tray on his left hand held delicious-looking slices of cottage Christmas pudding.
“I thought you couldn’t cook,” Humphrey said, pushing himself up from the blue and white carved mahogany sofa. He took a glass and a small plate of pudding, a fork already on it, then sat back down, placing the plate in his lap. “You were a cooking disaster when Gertrude wasn’t here.”
“Of course he was.” At the other end of the long sofa, Gertrude nodded hard. “I only wish I’d seen the mess he made around the kitchen.”
“Anne had to wash pudding out of his hair—”
“That’s enough!” Carmichael cried. “In answer to your question, Bollington, I cook only this pudding and make these two drinks for Christmas. And it’s a good thing I already made them, because I’m no longer in such a benevolent mood.” His wry smile betrayed him.
Carmichael offered his trays to Gertrude, who was stringing popcorn for the tree. The tree that wasn’t here yet.
“Bring the table over so I have somewhere to put it while I do this,” Gertrude insisted.
Humphrey made no move to help; he was too engrossed in the rich Christmassy tastes of suet blended with nutmeg, cloves, ginger, and sugar. The raisins and currants added wonderful interest to the texture.
“My hands are a bit full right now, Gertrude,” Carmichael said, glaring at Humphrey.
“Well, put your trays down on the table and drag it over,” Gertrude instructed. “There’s no one else here to take your treats anyway. Are you just going to stand around with them? My goodness, I can’t imagine what you did before I joined this society.”
“All right, all right.” Carmichael did as she said, but the ornate wooden table they’d shoved into the corner was too heavy for him to drag alone. “Bollington, snap out of your pudding haze and come help.”
Humphrey obeyed begrudgingly, struggling up off the couch with both hands occupied and putting down his food and drink on the table. He helped Carmichael drag the table next to the sofa, closest to Gertrude.
“Leave the center of the room open so they can bring the tree in,” Gertrude said.
“Yes, Miss Oakley,” Carmichael said in the tone of an irritated child.