A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 6

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Chapter 6 — Gifts That Don’t Glitter

They followed Eidothea through California like a quiet procession of miracles.

Not in a straight line. Not in a logical way.

Magic didn’t care about maps.

First, she stopped in Antioch, near the edge of Rose Hill Cemetery. Fog curled between headstones. The White Witch was not visible, but Lavender felt her presence like a hand at her back.

Eidothea knelt near a small grave marked with a child’s name and placed a single seashell beside it—one that glowed faintly, like moonlight trapped in pearl.

“Rest,” Eidothea whispered.

Then she rose and continued.

In the Central Valley, Eidothea moved through a neighborhood where holiday lights were dim and the air smelled like cold. She left food baskets on porches—quiet generosity, no attention asked.

Kadira watched with tears in her eyes. “She’s feeding people,” Kadira whispered.

Mateo squeezed Kadira’s hand. “She’s choosing love.”

In Truckee, snow swirled around them like glittering ash. Eidothea stood beneath a pine tree heavy with snow and began to sing.

It wasn’t a siren song.

It was a lullaby.

The air warmed.

A shivering man sitting on a bench looked up, eyes wide, as if he’d suddenly remembered he was worth saving. He stood, wiping his face, and walked toward a shelter lit with soft yellow windows.

Lavender turned toward Flint. “Her song… it’s different.”

Flint nodded. “It’s not taking. It’s giving.”

They returned home to Silicon Valley just before midnight.

The La Cour house glowed like a beacon.

Inside, Grand-mère Catherine’s Candle of Mercy burned bright in the living room, its flame steady as a heartbeat.

Eidothea stepped inside.

Lavender held her breath.

No one screamed. No one ran. No one asked her to explain herself in a world that always demanded explanations.

Grand-mère Catherine simply smiled.

“Welcome home,” she said.

Eidothea’s eyes filled. “I’ve never had a home.”

Grand-mère’s voice was gentle but unshakable. “Then you do now.”

They gathered by the tree.

Nicholas poured warm cider. Maëlle helped Thor place a small ornament shaped like a fish on the lower branches “for our guest.” Kadira wrapped a scarf around Eidothea’s shoulders.

Eidothea looked overwhelmed.

“I don’t deserve this,” she whispered.

Lavender stepped closer. “That’s the curse talking.”

Eidothea flinched. “It’s still here.”

The room cooled suddenly.

The candle flame shuddered.

A shadow moved along the ceiling—like water upside down.

Eidothea’s body stiffened. Her eyes flashed with fear.

“I knew it,” she whispered. “I knew it wouldn’t let me go.”

Grand-mère Catherine stood, calm as a queen. “No,” she said firmly. “It does not get to claim you in my house on Christmas Eve.”

The shadow pulsed, angry.

Eidothea’s voice broke. “I was punished. I became what they said I was.”

Lavender touched her hand. “You became what pain made you. But tonight you chose something else.”

The candle flame steadied.

Kadira stepped forward, voice soft but strong. “You’re not alone.”

Mateo joined her. “You’re not a monster.”

Flint spoke next, firm and grounded. “You’re a person who deserves a second chance.”

Nicholas nodded. “And we’re the kind of family that gives them.”

Maëlle whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

Thor chirped, “Merry Christmas!”

Eidothea’s shoulders shook. She began to cry. And something in that cry wasn’t weakness. It was release.

The shadow on the ceiling trembled as if it couldn’t stand to be seen in the light of so much love.

Eidothea lifted her head and spoke into the air like she was speaking to the curse itself.

“My name is Eidothea,” she said clearly. “Not siren. Not demon. Not temptation.”

The candle flared gold.

The shadow tore apart like smoke in wind.

The room warmed again.

Eidothea exhaled.

And for the first time, her smile looked free.

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A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 5

Chapter 5 — The Woman at Fisherman’s Wharf

Christmas Eve arrived wrapped in fog.

San Francisco was lit in gold and red, the streets crowded with shoppers and laughter, and Fisherman’s Wharf smelled of salt, sourdough, roasted nuts, and ocean cold.

Lavender stood near the pier with Flint, Kadira, and Mateo. Nicholas had insisted they take Thor to see the Wharf’s lights before dinner. Maëlle held Thor’s mittened hand while he bounced excitedly, his cheeks pink from the wind.

Grand-mère Catherine stayed home, “to prepare the mercy candle,” she said, eyes twinkling.

Lavender watched the water. Fog moved across the bay like silk.

Then the air shifted.

Not dramatically. Not like thunder. Like breath.

A ripple moved across the surface of the water near the dock, and a woman stepped onto the pier as if she’d simply walked up from a hidden staircase.

She wore a white coat. Her hair fell dark and glossy around her shoulders. Her eyes—ancient, luminous—searched the crowd.

Lavender knew instantly.

“Eidothea,” Lavender whispered.

Flint’s body tensed. “That’s her?”

Kadira’s hand flew to her mouth.

Eidothea moved slowly, uncertain, like someone who hadn’t walked on land in a very long time. She glanced at the holiday lights with wonder, like they were stars hung low just for her.

Then her gaze met Lavender’s.

Eidothea’s face softened.

“Lavender Ann Landry,” she said quietly. “I have been told you are a bridge.”

Lavender swallowed. “I… I don’t know what I am.”

Eidothea stepped closer, her voice barely above the wind. “You are what love makes possible.”

Kadira stared. “Are you… are you really a—”

Eidothea’s eyes warmed. “A mermaid?” She smiled faintly. “Not tonight.”

Thor tugged Maëlle’s sleeve. “Mommy, is she magic?”

Maëlle, to her credit, did not panic. She crouched beside Thor, smoothing his hat. “Yes, baby,” she said carefully. “But we’re going to be polite.”

Thor beamed at Eidothea. “Merry Christmas!”

Something flickered across Eidothea’s face—shock, then emotion so raw it nearly broke her.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered back, voice trembling.

Lavender felt the world tilt.

This wasn’t just magic. This was healing.

Eidothea glanced toward the sky.

A bright moon rose behind the fog. Above it—like a painting come alive—Santa’s sleigh silhouette crossed the moon, reindeer flying in perfect formation. People cheered. Children pointed.

Eidothea stared as if she couldn’t believe such innocence still existed.

Then she took a breath and said, “I came to bring a gift.”

Mateo frowned. “What gift?”

Eidothea said, “The kind that matters.”

And she began to walk.

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A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 4

Chapter 4 — Christmas Lists and Quiet Fears

Back in Silicon Valley, the La Cour home was a whirlwind of holiday preparation.

Nicholas insisted on a “real Christmas,” which meant:

• Two trees (one elegant, one chaotic for Thor)
• Enough food for an army
• A family dinner where nobody was allowed to check their phones
• And a tradition Grand-mère Catherine called The Candle of Mercy— a candle lit for anyone who needed hope.

Kadira helped Maëlle wrap gifts, but her hands trembled slightly as she folded ribbons.

Mateo noticed.

“You’re thinking about Antioch,” he said quietly.

Kadira looked up. “I keep seeing her—this White Witch. Like she knew me.”

Mateo’s expression softened. “Maybe she did.”

Kadira swallowed. “What if all this… magic stuff… isn’t just about Lavender? What if it’s tied to us too?”

Mateo reached for her hand. “Then we face it together.”

Kadira’s eyes shone. “What if I’m not as strong as everyone thinks?”

Mateo gave a small smile. “Strength isn’t never being afraid. Strength is holding someone’s hand while you’re afraid.”

Across the room, Lavender watched Flint string lights along the staircase.

“You’re quiet,” Flint said.

Lavender hesitated. “I feel like Christmas is a door,” she admitted. “And something is coming through.”

Flint climbed down the ladder and took her face gently in his hands.

“Whatever comes through,” he said, “it’s coming into a house full of people who love you.”

Then Grand-mère Catherine called everyone into the living room.

She held a thick white candle and a match.

“This candle,” she announced, “is not for decoration. It is for mercy. We light it for those who feel lost, cursed, lonely, or forgotten.”

She struck the match. Flame bloomed.

The room warmed instantly, as if the light touched something deeper than air.

Grand-mère Catherine looked around at them all.

“And tonight,” she said, “we leave the door unlocked.”

Maëlle blinked. “Why?”

Grand-mère’s smile held mystery. “Because if a miracle needs a way in, I want it to find us.”

Lavender’s skin prickled. She didn’t know who would come through that door.

But she knew it was coming.

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A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 3

Chapter 3 — Moaning Caverns

Moaning Caverns was not a place you wandered into by accident.

The air inside was cold and damp. Drops of water fell like slow clock ticks. The walls were carved with ancient patience, and every sound echoed as if the earth itself was listening.

Far below the tourist paths, past the places humans had mapped and named, there was a pool as dark as midnight.

Lady Eidothea rose from it silently.

Her tail shimmered silver and deep ocean blue. Her hair floated around her shoulders like ink in water. Her eyes were not cruel—they were tired.

She had lived too long as a warning story.

Don’t go near the water.
Don’t listen to her voice.
She’ll ruin you.

The truth was, Eidothea had been ruined first.

She stared at her reflection. The face above the water was beautiful, yes—but beauty could be a cage.

“Was I ever human?” she whispered.

The water answered with a soft, haunting hum. Not a voice. Not words. A memory of song.

Then light moved across the cavern—warm gold like candle flame.

Queen Calafia appeared on the stone, regal as sunrise, her gown flowing like liquid gold. Behind her stood two fierce women in armor—Siachen and Cree—silent as guardians.

Eidothea bowed her head, not from worship, but from respect. Calafia was power and protection, but she was also justice.

“You asked for a miracle,” Queen Calafia said.

Eidothea swallowed. “I asked for a chance.”

Calafia nodded. “Christmas Eve. Dusk until dawn.”

Eidothea’s breath trembled. “One night.”

“One night,” Calafia agreed. “But understand this: the old curse will test you. It wants you to believe you are only what they called you.”

Sirens.
Demons.
Temptation.

Eidothea’s voice cracked. “They said we became monsters because we loved angels who fell.”

Calafia’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm. “You were punished for a story you did not write alone.”

Eidothea lifted her head. “How do I break it?”

“You cannot break a curse with rage,” Calafia said. “Not this one. You break it with the one thing curses cannot survive.”

Eidothea whispered, “Love?”

Calafia smiled. “Giving. Selflessness. The choice to protect rather than destroy.”

The cavern trembled faintly—like something deeper didn’t like the sound of that.

Eidothea flinched. “It’s listening.”

Calafia’s crown caught the light. “Let it listen.”

Then Calafia raised her hand. Gold light poured through her fingers and wrapped around Eidothea like a warm cloak.

“For one night,” Calafia declared, “you will walk the land as human. But your magic must be freely given—and your heart must choose its true name.”

Eidothea closed her eyes as the light sank into her skin.

And for the first time in centuries, she felt warmth that wasn’t water.

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A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 2

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Chapter 2 — The White Witch of Antioch

Two days later, Lavender rode with Flint and Kadira to Antioch.

The trip was supposed to be simple: a family errand, a quick stop to pick up a handcrafted ornament from a small holiday market nearby, then back home before dark.

But Lavender knew better than to believe in “simple” anymore.

The sky over Antioch was pale and stretched wide, and the land carried old stories. There were places in California where history sat close to the surface. Antioch was one of those places.

Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve lay just beyond the town—hills carved by coal mining and time, and a cemetery called Rose Hill where the wind moved like whispering silk.

Lavender felt it the moment she stepped out of the car.

“This place…” she whispered.

Kadira hugged her coat tighter. “It’s kind of beautiful,” she said, though her voice held caution. “But also… heavy.”

Flint squeezed Lavender’s hand. “You okay?”

Lavender nodded, but her feet were already moving, drawn toward the cemetery path like a string tied around her heart.

They walked beneath bare branches. The sunlight looked thin here, as if the sky was holding something back.

A woman stood near the edge of the graves.

She was dressed in white. Not bridal white. Not bright white. A soft, misty white, like fog when it turns to moonlight. Her hair floated as if she were underwater. Her eyes were luminous, ancient, and kind.

Lavender’s breath caught.

“The White Witch,” she whispered.

Kadira stiffened. Flint’s hand tightened around Lavender’s. “You know her?”

“I’ve seen her,” Lavender said. “In a dream.”

The White Witch turned her head and smiled as if she’d been waiting.

“Lavender Ann Landry,” she said, voice gentle as distant bells. “Child of both worlds.”

Lavender stepped forward, her heart pounding. “Why are you here?”

The White Witch’s gaze moved over all three of them, resting a moment on Kadira—like she could see the questions buried inside her.

Then she looked back at Lavender.

“Because Christmas is coming,” she said. “And so is the tide.”

“The tide?” Lavender repeated.

The wind rose. The cemetery grass shivered.

“There is a woman beneath the mountains,” the White Witch said, “who has been called siren, monster, temptation. But she is also mother, daughter, and wounded soul. On Christmas Eve, she will be given one night as human… and if she chooses right, she may keep more than a night.”

Lavender’s throat went dry. “Lady Eidothea.”

The White Witch nodded.

“But there is a cost,” the White Witch continued. “The old curse is hungry. It will try to reclaim her through fear. Through shame. Through the weakest place in the heart—where a person believes they can never be forgiven.”

Kadira frowned. “Forgiven for what?”

The White Witch’s eyes glimmered. “For surviving. For loving the wrong person. For being punished for a choice someone else regrets.”

Lavender heard Grand-mère Catherine’s voice in her head: Then we meet them with light.

Lavender lifted her chin. “What do we do?”

The White Witch stepped closer. The air smelled like rain.

“You gather your family,” she said. “You bring warmth. You bring tradition. You bring proof that love can change the ending.”

Flint swallowed. “And if we don’t?”

The White Witch’s smile faded.

“Then Christmas will still come,” she said. “But it will come with shadows.”

A gust of wind whipped through the trees. When Lavender blinked, the White Witch was gone.

Only a single white feather lay on the path where she’d stood.

Kadira bent and picked it up. Her face had turned pale.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered.

Flint pulled Lavender close. “We’ll handle it,” he said, but his voice was tight.

Lavender stared toward the hills beyond Antioch, where the land rose and folded into the distance.

Somewhere under those mountains, water waited. And something in the water was waking up.

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A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS OF SHADOWS AND LIGHT NOVELLA Chapter 1 — The First Light of December!

Lovers, Players & Seducers • Holiday Novella

A California Christmas of Shadows and Light

A heartwarming holiday tale of family, hope, redemption, and magic—set across California

By J. A. Jackson

Cast

Lavender Ann Landry • Flint Deville • Kadira La Cour-Egan • Mateo Deville • Nicholas La Cour • Maëlle • Thor • Grand-mère Catherine • Lacey La Cour Egan • Kienan Egan • Queen Calafia • The White Witch of Antioch • Lady Eidothea

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Chapter 1 — The First Light of December

The first snow touched California like a secret.

Up north, Truckee and Lake Tahoe glittered under a fresh white blanket. Pines bowed in quiet surrender, and the air smelled like cold cedar and clean beginnings. Down south, the Central Valley held its winter hush—frost on the fields, early sunsets, and roads that ran like dark ribbons through orchards stripped bare.

In Silicon Valley, the La Cour home was glowing.

String lights wrapped around railings and hedges. A wreath hung like a promise on the front door. Inside, cinnamon and orange peel curled through the rooms, mixing with the buttery scent of warm pastries Grand-mère Catherine swore could heal a broken heart.

Lavender Ann Landry stood near the window, watching the last sun slide behind the hills. The glass reflected her face and—if she stared long enough—something else too. A shimmer. A ripple. Like a memory trying to become real.

She pressed two fingers to the charm at her throat—Aunt Joan’s pendant, still faintly warm, still holding secrets.

“You’ve been spacing out all day,” Maëlle teased, passing by with a tray of hot cocoa. “You’re thinking about your dream again, aren’t you?”

Lavender didn’t deny it.

“How could I not?” Lavender murmured. “The lake. The throne rising from the water. Queen Calafia putting that hamsa around my neck…”

She lowered her voice, like saying it too loudly might summon it again.

Maëlle’s laughter softened. “In our family, dreams aren’t always just dreams.”

Across the room, Nicholas wrestled with a box of ornaments while Flint hung lights with the patient focus of someone who could build a life with his hands. Kadira sat on the rug with Thor, helping him untangle a string of gold beads as their new puppy tried to chew the ends.

Mateo leaned in the doorway, quietly watching Kadira like she was the best thing in the world.

Lavender caught that look. The way Mateo’s gaze steadied Kadira. Like love could be an anchor. Like love could keep a person from drifting into storms.

Lavender looked down at the charm again.

And wondered what kind of storm was drifting toward her.

Grand-mère Catherine called from the kitchen. “Lavender, bébé, come taste this!”

Lavender entered the kitchen and found Grand-mère at the stove with a pot that smelled like sweet cream and spices.

“It’s my Christmas custard,” Grand-mère declared. “A little Louisiana in California. Taste.”

Lavender tasted. Warmth spread through her chest like soft music.

“Perfect,” Lavender said.

Grand-mère Catherine studied her a moment longer than necessary. “You feel things. You see things,” she said gently. “Don’t fight it. But don’t go chasing shadows either.”

Lavender swallowed. “What if the shadows chase me?”

Grand-mère’s smile held no fear. Only knowing. “Then we meet them with light.”

Just then, thunder rolled faintly somewhere beyond the hills—an odd sound for a dry California evening.

Lavender turned toward the window. For half a second, she thought she saw water ripple across the sky.

And then it was gone.

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Lovers, Players & Seducers • Christmas Special

A California Christmas of Shadows and Light

A heart-warming holiday tale of family, hope, redemption, and magic

By J. A. Jackson

The first snow of December dusted the mountains of Truckee and Lake Tahoe like powdered sugar, while far below, California shimmered with lights and longing.

Christmas was coming.

A House Full of Lights

In Silicon Valley, Lavender Ann Landry stood at the kitchen window of the La Cour home, watching strands of white lights flicker across the garden hedges. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, and pine filled the house. Grand-mère Catherine hummed an old Creole carol as she stirred a pot on the stove, and little Thor La Cour giggled as he chased his new puppy around the Christmas tree.

“Careful, mon petit,” Grand-mère Catherine said gently. “Christmas magic works best when we slow down.”

Lavender smiled and touched the charm at her neck. Since her dream by the dark lake—since Queen Calafia’s blessing— she felt Christmas differently now. Deeper. As if the season itself whispered secrets meant only for her.

Flint’s laughter warmed the room as he helped Nicholas hang a hand-carved ornament shaped like a hamsa.

“Every year,” Nicholas said, “this tree reminds me that family is the real miracle.”

Kadira leaned into Mateo’s side, her eyes shining. “I never realized how much I missed this,” she whispered.

Mateo kissed her forehead. “Christmas has a way of calling us home—even when we don’t know we’re lost.”

The Caverns Below

Far away, beneath the echoing chambers of Moaning Caverns, Lady Eidothea rose from the underground waters, her silver-blue tail glistening in the torchlight. Once cursed as a siren—one of the women spoken of in the ancient Book of Enoch— she had long been feared for her song.

Tonight, her voice trembled with hope.

“I am tired of being what the world fears,” Eidothea whispered. “If Christmas is truly a season of miracles… let one be for me.”

From the shadows emerged the White Witch of Antioch, her white cloak glowing like moonlight over the Black Diamond Mines.

“Christmas is the one night,” the White Witch said, “when the veil thins not from darkness—but from love.”

Golden light filled the cavern as Queen Calafia appeared, regal and radiant, her crown shining like the stars themselves.

“On Christmas Eve,” Calafia said, “you may walk the land as human—from dusk until dawn. Remember: magic bound to love must be freely given.”

A Miracle Under the Tree

As midnight bells rang, Eidothea stepped into the La Cour home. Lavender gasped—but Grand-mère Catherine only smiled.

“Ah,” Grand-mère Catherine said, “Christmas always brings old stories home.”

They gathered beneath the glowing tree. No one spoke of curses or ancient sins. Only love. Only family.

At dawn, Eidothea faded into mist—but her song remained.

Some magic doesn’t glitter.

Some magic stays.

Continue the Magic

• Book I (FREE) – Lovers, Players & The Seducer
• Book II – The Revenge
• Book III – Betrayal of Nicholas La Cour
• Book IV – When Lavender Meets Flint! It’s Magic
• Book V – Kadira & Mateo

✨ Merry Christmas from the world of Lovers, Players & Seducers ✨