Distant thunder rumbled as I scrambled to load the last box of Peen-Unseen into the back of my car. “Great,” I muttered grumpily to myself. “Just what I needed.”
On top of being waylaid by Nonna and Jessica, who demanded I accompany them to The Saloon for hot toddies after the craft fair, the darkening night was redolent with an ominous oncoming storm.
And yet, Briarville stubbornly insisted on leading with holiday cheer despite the thunder cracking overhead.
Honestly, as if they had nothing better to do.
Every Victorian structure on Main Street was frosted with strands of twinkling white lights.
I slammed the trunk shut and gasped, realizing a shiver of panic as an angelic chorus of “Fah Who Foraze” from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! started up. It was the Briarville Repertory Chil
