Free A Fashionably Dead Christmas: Hot Damned Series, Book 5 by Robyn Peterman

eating Gigi’s cooking, then more power to them. Sadly, I knew my absence would be noticed.
     
    Shitshitshit.
     
    No one moved toward the food except Martha and Jane, who were either gluttons for punishment or weren’t aware of Mother Nature’s appalling lack of cooking skills.
     
    “Sweet Sarah Palin in a three way,” Jane exclaimed after she downed a bowl of chili in one swallow. “This is fucking amazing.”
     
    Maybe they didn’t have taste buds.
     
    Mother Nature squealed in delight and hugged Jane so tight I thought poor Jane’s head might pop off. I was certain the old bag’s compliment was the first Gigi had ever received about her cooking. Ever.
     
    “Did you try dessert?” Mother Nature asked excitedly as she yanked both Martha and Jane over to the array of sweets.
     
    She waited with baited breath as the old ladies polished off half a cake each.
     
    “I’d like the recipe for this one,” Martha said as she put the rest of the cake into her purse to eat later. “I detect lemon and honey and dare I say frog legs?”
     
    “Oh my Heavens, YES!” Mother Nature shrieked with joy as she danced around the room. “I was going to use salami, but I thought the frog legs made the dish more exotic.”
     
    “Tastes like chicken,” Jane said with a nod of appreciation. “Excellent.”
     
    “Isn’t anyone hungry?” Mother Nature demanded.
     
    “Well, you see… uh,” I stuttered. “I told everyone it was only very, very, very, light hor d’oeuvres and I’m sure everyone already ate.”
     
    I finished my lie with a faux sad shake of my head.
     
    “Is this true?” she asked with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
     
    The nods were vigorous.
     
    “Steve Perry, you must be hungry. When did the idiots kidnap you?” Gigi asked.
     
    “I’m Vegan,” Steve replied quickly. “I’m so sorry.”
     
    His relief made me giggle. I wasn’t sure if the Vegan thing was true, but I sent him a covert thumbs up. There was no way Steve Perry knew about my grandmother’s cooking. He was just a very smart man.
     
    “No worries,” Mother Nature told him. “And the rest of you?”
     
    “I drank a vat of blood before I came,” Venus apologized profusely. “If I’d only know I would have abstained.”
     
    “Me too,” shouted a chorus of every undead person in the room.
     
    Clearly Gigi’s culinary reputation preceded her.
     
    The silence felt year-long and I was worried my kitchen was about to turn into a jungle.
     
    “Well,” she said slowly as if she was thinking it out as she said it. “Martha and Jane, you ladies are in luck. It’s all yours!”
     
    “Hot damn,” Martha shouted, and she and Jane high-fived each other in glee.
     
    The cheers from the crowd in the kitchen were deafening and the relief was palpable. The bullet had been dodged—at least for another thousand years.
     
    “Astrid, maybe I could call in some favors on the Vampyre eating thing and cater your wedding,” Gigi suggested. “I know a few old bastards that owe me.”
     
    “I don’t want you to do anything that would put you in a bad position,” I insisted as diplomatically as I could. What I wanted to do was gag and scream. I was certain I’d just paled to a shade short of real death.
     
    “Not a problem at all,” she assured me with a delighted smile. “All those fuckers ask me for things all the time. It’s my turn to borrow a little power.”
     
    “Sounds great,” I choked out with what I prayed passed as a smile.
     
    “Oh fuck,” Ethan muttered from behind me.
     
    He was correct.
     
    I was now going to have to arrange to have spit buckets discreetly placed all over at my wedding. My friends will need to purge without being noticed.
     
    I’d get on that tomorrow.
     
    I still had to get through today.
     

Chapter 9
     
    “Jesus Christ,” Satan groused as we all made our way back to what used to be the Great Room.
     
    We’d spent an hour and a half in the kitchen watching in