Tinsel in a Tangle (Fairy Tales of a Trailer Park Queen Book 2) Read online

  Tinsel in a Tangle

  Fairy Tales of a Trailer Park Queen, Book 2

  Kimbra Swain

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Kimbra Swain

  Tinsel in a Tangle: Fairy Tales of a Trailer Park Queen, Book 2

  ©2017, Kimbra Swain / Crimson Sun Press, LLC

  [email protected]

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Cover art by Hampton Lamoureux @ TS95 Studios https://www.ts95studios.com

  Formatting by Serendipity Formats: https://serendipityformats.wixsite.com/formats

  Editing by Carol Tietsworth: https://www.facebook.com/Editing-by-Carol-Tietsworth-328303247526664/

  Contents

  1. December 12th

  2. December 13th

  3. December 14th

  4. December 15th

  5. December 16th

  6. December 17th

  7. December 18th

  8. December 19th

  9. December 20th

  10. December 21st

  11. December 22nd

  12. December 23rd

  13. Christmas Eve

  14. Christmas Day

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  December 12th

  Contorting my head sideways, I hoped to instruct my dear bard on the shortcomings of his current task. “Levi, it’s crooked.”

  “No, it isn’t,” he complained.

  “Yes, it is, honey,” Kady said, sitting beside me.

  “It’s not fair that there are two of you now to gang up on me,” he whined.

  “You have no holiday spirit,” I said giggling at him. “Dublin, the whole tree is crooked, not just the star.”

  Christmas back in the Otherworld was celebrated as Yule around the winter solstice. The longest day of the year. It symbolized the darkness giving into the light. I never really liked the celebration, plus I’d spent my entire life in the human realm avoiding the darkness. Especially that darkness within myself. The celebration always reminded me that no matter what the orbit of the sun, the darkness inside of me continued to fester. However, the human celebrations of Christmas involved lots of lights, decorations, and family. The celebration also switched dates over the years as humans tinkered with the calendar. I never had much family until recently, but I loved decorating a Christmas tree, stringing lights and baking cookies. In fact, Christmas was why I learned to cook.

  When I moved into my first trailer park, an older woman by the name of Sharolyn brought me into her family as one of her own. She loaned me her recipes teaching me all the shortcuts and secrets to really good food. I’d spent ages in the human realm, and what little contact I had with humans was generally sexual. Until Miss Sharolyn. Christmas reminded me of her and the family I didn’t have.

  But, I finally had a family. A misfit one of sorts, but they were mine. I watched Levi trying to set the tree straight and the cold recesses of my heart melted into the warmth of actually belonging somewhere. Home. Family. Christmas.

  “I don’t know why we are putting a star on it, because it’s supposed to be an angel,” he continued to moan.

  “The last thing an angel needs is a piece of evergreen up his butt,” I laughed. Kady laughed too, but Nestor Gwinn, the bar owner and my grandfather, huffed behind us. “What’s wrong, Nestor?”

  “Grace, have you ever met an angel?” he asked.

  “No, but I hear they act like they have something stuck up their butt!” I laughed.

  “Honey, if you ever meet one, please run. Heaven’s sake, don’t speak to him. He’s liable to throw the gates of hell open and push you through,” Nestor warned. I turned to see if he was joking, but behind his smirk, I saw a twinge of fear. If he’d met an angel, I’d like to hear that story.

  “I’ve met an angel. She’s sitting next to you,” Levi said ogling Kady. Kadence Rayburn was the preacher’s daughter. They met at church a couple of months ago. They hit it off so well, I could hardly stand to stay with them in the trailer. If the trailer was rocking… I would sleep on Nestor’s couch. He lived in a small apartment above the bar.

  Kady was a healthy girl with curves in all the right places. Her brown doe eyes drew my bard’s attentions from the moment he met her. For now, she made him happy. The day she stopped, I would end her.

  “Aw,” she cooed. She blew him a kiss, and he caught it. Young, stupid love.

  I rolled my eyes. “Gag a maggot,” I teased.

  “Where’s Dylan?” Kady asked.

  “I am not Dylan’s keeper,” I replied.

  “She knows exactly where he is at all times. He reports in regularly,” Levi responded.

  “At this very moment, I do not know where he is, Levi Rearden. How dare you call me a liar?” I said. “Honey, the tree is straight now. Leave it alone.”

  “Okay, cool. Now I can hang these lights,” he said, dipping into the box of decorations that Nestor gave us to put up around the bar. I'd already hung green and red tinsel around the edges. It was tangled up when I took it out of the box. About an hour later, I had it sorted.

  “I’ll help,” Kady said, leaving me alone at the bar. The Hot Tin Roof Bar was the only watering hole in Shady Grove, Alabama. My grandfather ran it. Nestor Gwinn was a kelpie.

  A kelpie, an equine water fairy that lures passersby in order to trap them into their aquatic abode, was kind of fitting for the barkeep. However, he had no plans on drowning his patrons. It’s hard to get repeat sales when the customer is deceased.

  Levi Rearden was a changeling, the first bard born into the known world in over a hundred years. I was his patron, Grace Ann Bryant, Trailer Park Queen. Actually, my official title was Queen of the Exiles, but I lived in a double wide, proudly sported a large tattoo on my right arm, and liked my shorts very short. However, it was December, so I wore tight chocolate leggings with a burgundy tunic. Tall brown boots and a plaid scarf at my neck. Kady picked the outfit out. She said I looked cute.

  Shady Grove’s population was riddled with exiled fairies. Since I became their Queen a few months ago, the town had grown exponentially. Many exiled fairies got the word that a Queen had emerged to protect them. When I agreed to this role, I didn’t realize the trouble I was getting myself into, but here I was.

  I turned my back on the love birds. They made me sick with all their touchy-feely crap. Nestor shook his head at me. The bar was mostly empty. One patron sat at the end of the bar with beady eyes munching on the free peanuts. He had an empty bottle of cheap beer.

  “May I have another cup?” I asked. Nestor made magical coffee. It not only warmed your body, but it soothed your soul. It seemed my soul needed a lot of soothing lately.

  “Sure,” he said refilling my cup. “So, where is Dylan?”

  “He drove into Tuscaloosa to get some paperwork for this fool idea of becoming a private investigator,” I said.

  “Grace, the guy is not a sheriff anymore. Why is it a fool idea?” Nestor asked.

  “Because, what’s he gonna do? St
ake out cow pastures for tippers?” I asked.

  Nestor laughed. “I’m sure he will find plenty of cases with the influx of fairies we’ve had lately,” he replied. He was right. Things were getting hectic around here.

  “I suppose,” I grumbled. Levi had passed his bah humbug to me.

  “You really don’t want him to do it? What’s he supposed to do, Grace? Follow you around everywhere?” Nestor said.

  “No, I’m still mad at him,” I replied.

  “You’ve got to get over that,” he chided. I wasn’t really mad at Dylan Riggs who had managed to get himself shot trying to save me. He died actually, but unbeknownst to me, he was a phoenix rising from the ashes. He lied to me about a lot of things before and after he died. His death rocked me in a way I never imagined possible. We had a long friendship, a torrid one-night stand, and several months of bickering. Then he died, forcing me to realize how important was to me. I just wasn't ready, after hundreds of years to commit to someone.

  As a fairy, my hormones and inclination for sexual connection erupt far more than the normal human. It made it hard for me to tell the difference between lust and love. However, when Dylan died, it ripped me to pieces. When he returned, I was madder than hell. We still spent time together, but we played a game where he would ask for a reprieve of my anger in small increments of time.

  “I’m afraid that if he gets involved with police work that he might die again,” I admitted quietly to Nestor. Long before I realized Nestor was my grandfather, he was my bartender. He listened to my problems, supplied my alcohol, and gave sound advice. I hadn't drunk very much since Dylan returned. Nestor’s supernatural coffee was enough to soothe my apprehensions.

  “Fortunately for him he can rise from the dead,” Nestor pointed out.

  “Yes, but is there a limit on that kind of thing? Is there a way to kill him where he won’t come back?” I shuddered at my own statement. Sitting my cup down, I wrung my hands trying to calm the shaking. The mere thought of it terrified me.

  Nestor laid a warm hand over mine and stared at me. “Grace, we only get one life. Granted most of us have lived longer than we ever imagined, but you have to make the most of the time you have. Don’t let your fear of losing him keep you apart. Most of this town knows exactly how you feel about each other, even if you won’t admit it.

  “Hmph,” I grunted and turned back to the young couple hanging lights. “Looks good, guys!”

  The lights added a twinkle to the normally darkened bar. Nestor’s bar wasn’t exactly a dive, but it certainly wasn’t like the fancy ones I’d seen in photographs. I loved magazines, especially tabloids. I loved spending time at the bar. Finally, I was able to return after I spent so much time away from it after Dylan and I hooked up the first time.

  As if on cue, the bar door swung open, and Mr. Sandy Hair came in from the cold. His brilliant blue eyes flashed when they met my eyes. When his smile stretched across his face, I was undone. He never looked at Levi or Kady when they greeted him. Striding forward to the bar next to me, he tapped on it lightly as Nestor poured him a warm cup of coffee. He dumped two spoons of sugar into it and took a sip.

  “It’s cold enough to freeze the tits off a frog,” he exclaimed. Levi and Kady laughed.

  “Frogs don’t have tits,” I said, not looking at him.

  “I beg your pardon, my Queen,” he said, insisting on referring to me in that infernal way. “But I do remember a biology class long, long ago where we dissected a frog, and it most certainly had tits.”

  “You were never in a biology class,” I proclaimed, finally looking up at him.

  Leaning over to whisper in my ear, he said, “Five seconds.”

  “You can’t do anything meaningful in five seconds,” I replied.

  “Please,” he begged. I melted.

  “Five seconds,” I said, starting to count silently in my head. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I could feel the radiating warmth of his body.

  “Beautiful Grace,” he muttered. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he pulled away the moment I reached five in my head.

  Chills ran down my spine, and I gulped. Five seconds was plenty to make the fairy whore inside of me turn cartwheels.

  “Meaningful?” he asked.

  “I suppose,” I replied suppressing the desire to make out with him in front of everyone. He sat down on the stool next to me and watched Levi hanging lights around the room.

  “The tree looks good,” he said.

  “Yes, once Levi finally got it straight. But I agree that it does look mighty fine,” I declared. Levi grinned at my admission that he’d done a good job. Kady rubbed his shoulder drawing his attention away from Dylan and me.

  “You get your paperwork done?” I asked.

  “I just picked it up. I’ll work on completing it after the holidays,” he said.

  The bar door swung open again, and the new sheriff, Troy Maynard walked in, bringing a wave of cold with him.

  “Lord have mercy. Shut that door, Troy. You are letting the heat out,” I proclaimed.

  “Grace! I’ve been looking for you,” he said exasperated. I looked down at my phone, but I hadn’t missed a call. He noticed and continued, “I didn’t call. I figured you’d be here. Oh, hey Dylan.”

  “Troy,” Dylan acknowledged him. Dylan used to be the sheriff until his involvement with me got him suspended, and like the romantic moron that he was, he quit his job for me. I adored him for it, but of course, I refused to admit it. Either way, he knew. I hoped.

  “I need you to come down to holding. We’ve got a guy down there whom we dragged out of Deacon Giles’ field. He’s demanding to see the Queen, and raising hell. Will you please come talk to him?” he begged.

  “She can’t just show up for every misguided fairy,” Dylan protested. Laying my hand over his, I squeezed.

  “What was he doing in the field?” I asked.

  “Terrorizing the livestock,” Troy replied.

  “You mean he was, um, doing it with them?” I asked. My mind wallowed in the gutter. Fairy.

  “No! Not that. He was chasing the sheep, making the goats faint and tipping the cows,” he sighed.

  “Sounds rather fun to me,” I giggled as Dylan poked me in the side. “Come on, let’s go talk to a fool.”

  Leaving Levi and Kady to finish decorating, Dylan drove me down to the sheriff’s department. “I’m sorry if I interfered,” he said.

  “You’re right, I’ve gotten myself into one hell of a mess, but I’m good at that, aren’t I?” I asked trying to prevent him from feeling guilty for caring about me.

  “You most certainly are, but this queen thing has gotten out of hand. Every time you turn around some forlorn fairy is begging for your protection,” he said. “You can’t possibly protect them all.”

  “Just accepting who I am provides a measure of protection. I’ve virtually claimed the exotic town of Shady Grove as my kingdom, and my palace is a double wide,” I smirked.

  “You make light of it, but I know you got more than you bargained for when you accepted all of this. I’m sorry if I pushed you into it,” he said.

  “I did get more than I anticipated, but Dylan, I don’t blame you, so stop being so dammed forlorn. It’s the holidays. Let’s celebrate and have fun,” I suggested.

  He squeezed my hand as we pulled into the lot outside the sheriff’s department. “As you wish, my Queen.”

  “Quit fucking calling me that,” I protested. He finally laughed.

  “Vulgar mouth,” he said turning to me.

  “One minute,” I offered as he stared at me.

  “I didn’t ask for a minute,” he protested.

  “I read your mind,” I smiled.

  “You did not,” he replied.

  “Fine. My bad,” I said grabbing the door handle.

  “Um, no,” he said pulling me to him and covering my mouth with his. I lost count around twenty-two. But approximately a minute later, he rested his forehead on mine, “Do you know h
ow hard it is to count while doing that?”

  “Actually, it’s easy. You were two seconds short,” I replied.

  “Damn you, Grace,” he grumbled, getting out of the car. I climbed out before he could open the door for me, watching him scowl. He took my hand as we entered his former place of employment.

  We walked past receiving through a set of double swinging doors to the entrance to the holding cells. It wasn’t so long ago that I inhabited one of the cells after being accused of murder. Thankfully, those charges were dropped.

  Bellows assaulted our ears as we entered the cell room. “I’m not talking to nobody, but the queen. You bring her here to me. I demand it. It’s my right,” he screamed, filling the room with his screeching.

  Stopping in my tracks, Dylan almost ran over me, but he froze as we both laid eyes on the bellower. He stood around five and half foot tall with gangly arms and bulging eyes. His hands hung too long past his waist. His long boney fingers twitched as he protested. However, beyond this strange appearance, he teetered on a long, wooden peg leg.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled. Dylan suppressed a laugh behind me as I elbowed him. “Enough of that racket. I’m here. What the hell do you want?”

  He leveled his beady eyes on me and grumped, “You ain’t no queen. You look like trailer trash.”

  Dylan snorted behind me, and I whipped around on him. He held his hands up in surrender as my eyes flashed turquoise. Shaking my head to release the anger, I looked at him again, conveying my contrition the best I could without speaking. “It’s okay. Do your thing,” he urged. He knew tapping into the fairy queen made me jumpy.

  Turning back to the old man who continued to demand to see the queen, I pulled power stored in my tattoo, and my glamour dropped revealing the Ice Queen within me. “Silence!” I demanded. I’ll admit that since I’d embraced my new calling, I felt like I could control Gloriana, my true fairy name. I was the daughter of the King of the Unseelie Fairies in the Otherworld, Oberon. My mother, one of his many concubines, was the first to ever provide him with a female heir. I’d subsequently gotten into enough trouble to get banished from his realm, and we had only recently reconnected. He seemed to have finally accepted my decision to live amongst humans, but only once I decided to lead the other exiles here.