25 Days of Beastly Christmas: A (original) Christmas short story from the Virtue series by Mia Asher




Hey bookies!!!


I only have one more test to go, but I’ll have such a busy week!  I have some Christmas parties to go and I still have 27 books to read this year to finish my 400 books challenge!!! I hope you’re all enjoying the Festive Season. It’s my favorite time or the year and I wait the whole year for it, but as soon as December comes, it passes SO FAST!!!!


Anyways, today’s post is SUPER special!! It’s an original short story Mia Asher, one of my favorite authors and the queen of angst, wrote for my Christmas blog feature!! I’m so thrilled for you all to read it!!! But first a WARNING!! DANGER! DANGER! This short story contain spoilers, so if you haven’t read the series, specially Sweetest Venon, the second and last book, don’t proceed (WHY HAVEN’T YOU READ IT YET, ANYWAYS????! LOL)!


Be prepared to swoon, because…RONAN *-* !!! I do miss my Law now! Maybe Mia could write him a Valentine’s Day one? Feature me??? *wink wink*






Wish Upon a Star


“Daddy! Daddy!”


I put down the book in my hands and turn in the direction of my five-year old daughter Annabelle as pride, love, and amusement fill my chest. She takes small steps that are firm and full of purpose. The kind that says, get out of my way or I’ll trample you in my twinkle-toes while wearing a ballerina tutu and my older brother’s Darth Vader cape. A pout on her face that one day a man—a very lucky man who I might deem worthy of her—will take one look at and know that he’s in big trouble. I chuckle because when she pouts like that, she reminds me so much of Blaire when things aren’t going her way.


“What’s up, princess?”


She comes to stand next to me, frowning. I reach out and touch her dark hair, the exact same color as her mother’s. She’s a small replica of Blaire with her wise blue eyes and pale skin. She crosses her arms trying to appear solemn even though the traces of chocolate ice cream in the corners of her mouth ruin the effect.
“What did Miles do this time?” I ask, trying my best to appear serious as my daughter when all I want to do is smile and pull her in for a hug.


“I was playing with my bahbies and Coco was making a wish upon a star when Miles—”


“Who is Coco?”


Annabelle rolls her eyes as though the answer were blatantly obvious. “My favorite bahbie, Daddy. You know, the one that Nana gave me for my birfday.”


“Oh yes, of course, how silly of me to have forgotten Miss Coco. Do you think she’ll forgive me for forgetting about her?”


She smiles a dimpled smile as she moves to sit on my lap, and kisses my cheek as though I am a lost cause. “It depends.”


“Really?” I raise an eyebrow and wrap my arms around her little body. “And may I ask on what?”


She pauses, appearing to think of her answer. Then Annabelle grins, her eyes filling with a light full of mischief. “Maybe if you get Mommy to give Coco and me more ice cream.”


I laugh, tickling her. “You do not play fair Miss Annabelle Fleur Geraghty. I wonder where you get that from.”


“From Mommy, of course,” she says, giggling some more.


I think of my wife and the man I was before I went to Paris to get her back—to get my girl back. I wasn’t a man, not even the shadow of one. There was nothing inside me but empty spaces, darkness, and regrets. But one day Jackie confessed the truth to me, and I could dream again. I dared to dream again.


I stare at my daughter, and realize it’s Blaire’s love and faith in me that has made me a man worthy of my family. Pulling Annabelle in for a hug, I drop a kiss on top of her hair. “But tell me, princess, what did Miles do?”


“Miles said that wishes upon stars,” she shakes her head and makes a face full of girlish disgust and not a little hurt, “are for babies. He also said that my wishes won’t come true because stars are just balls of farts.”


I have to cough to hide my laughter. That boy. “Hmm,” I tap my chin, pretending to be lost in thought. “May I tell you a secret?”


She nods animatedly, her expectant blue eyes widening. She frowns. “You won’t even tell Miles?”


“Of course not, princess.”


“Good, because he’s a boy. And he smells. And he doesn’t let me play with his Legos.”


“It will be our little secret. You have my word.”


She raises her chin proudly in the air just like her mother, nodding only once. “You can tell me now, Daddy.”


My God, I wish the man who falls in love with my daughter good luck because she will certainly lead him a merry dance. Poor fellow.


At that moment, I hear Blaire’s laughter coming from the other room. I pick up Annabelle, holding her in my arms as I stand and go in search of Blaire. I find her in the living room dancing jauntily with Miles to the rhythm of Here Comes Santa Claus by Elvis Presley as it plays in the background, the Christmas tree lights bouncing on them like stars. With a smile on her lips, she’s holding onto Miles’ hand as she twirls him over and over again, making him giggle like the seven-year old boy that he is. And as I watch my wife and son dancing to the holiday tune, I fall in love with her all over again.


Blaire must sense my gaze on her because she looks up, her eyes connecting with mine. And in that second I see our past, our present, and our future pass by. All the hurt and pain we went through to get to this point not forgotten but conquered. And the present and future are all the more beautiful—sweeter—because of it. Some battles, they say, are worth fighting for. I’d be willing to go to war every day of my life for Blaire and our children until there was nothing left of me to give.


She smiles then, and I forget how to breathe. Christ, this woman is mine. Thank you, Jesus.


“What are you guys doing over there? You’re missing all the fun.” She looks at Miles, and asks teasingly, “Should we let them join us in our little dance, handsome?”


Miles who a minute ago appeared to want to be anywhere else but dancing with his mom, now puffs out his chest, appearing to have grown at least ten inches. “Only if you want, Mommy.”


Blaire and I both laugh.


“Very well said, my boy,” I say as I turn to look at Annabelle, her Darth Vader cape sliding down her shoulders. “What do you think, princess? Shall we show your mom and brother how it’s done?”


Annabelle giggles and claps her hands. “Yes, Daddy!”


As Annabelle and I near Blaire and Miles, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “You know how I know dreams really do come true?”


“How, Daddy?”


“Because I once wished upon a star.”


“And what happened, Daddy? Did it come true?”


I stare at my daughter in my arms, at my wife standing with our son, and I know the answer. “Yes, my princess, it did.”




















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