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

horror as Martha and Jane had consumed almost all of what Gigi had brought. The leftovers, they shoved in their purses.
     
    “Oh my Hell, is he here?” I asked frantically.
     
    I ran over to the mantle area and tried to brush my cousin’s busted little namesakes under what was formerly a couch. I’d not met my cousin yet. I’d only met God, but Jesus hadn’t been present. It was sad I had very little in the way of decorations or presents to celebrate his birthday.
     
    “Is who here?” my uncle asked confused.
     
    “Jesus,” I snapped, exasperated. “Is Jesus here?”
     
    “Not that I know of,” he replied as he scanned the crowd.
     
    “You just said Jesus Christ .”
     
    “Yes,” he replied with an evil little smirk. “I enjoy using my nephew’s name as an expletive.”
     
    “You’re an ass,” I told him.
     
    “Tell me something I don’t know,” he shot back with a hearty laugh.
     
    The next visual I witnessed would be branded in my brain for eternity. It was fucking unbelievable. Six of the seven Sins came rushing back into the room. Obviously they’d realized brunch was over. It wasn’t the speed with which they re-entered—nope—it was what they were wearing. I had no clue how they found the heinous ensembles considering mine was an accident, but they’d done it.
     
    All six were sporting midriff sweaters and men’s boxer briefs cinched in the front with a hair elastic. I bit back my scream of laughter and buried my head in my hands.
     
    All six gave me victorious glares and proudly posed for pictures.
     
    If it wasn’t so damned funny it would be pathetic. I shook my head and focused back in on my more sane guests.
     
    I wondered if God and Jesus would even come. They’d RSVP’d yes, but they were notorious no-shows. Honestly, it would probably be better if they didn’t come. This had turned out to be a clusterfuck.
     
    However, when it rains… it pours.
     
    Tiny, glittering, white lights appeared and shot gently around the room. They bathed the disaster in golden light. My friends and family stopped whatever they were doing and watched in awe as the glowing orbs bounced and played. Satan was the only eye roller.
     
    Samuel cooed with delight as he and Blobbityflonk tore around the room and tried to touch the sparkling bubbles. My stomach tightened and I desperately tried to tidy up the mess a little bit… yet another exercise in futility.
     
    “Stop,” Ethan said as he took my hand and forced me to live in the moment.
     
    I watched as my posse beheld the magical light with reverence and joy. Some held hands, some hugged each other—it was odd. How could some bouncing light cause us to forget the disaster that surrounded us?
     
    And then they arrived… but Jesus was missing.
     
    God and a small Asian woman walked in as if they knew the place—like they’d visited a million times. There were no expressions of shock or dismay at the mass destruction. No judgment at the blown out wall or the scorched remains of the tree.
     
    There were smiles on their faces and God waved happily at those he knew and those he didn’t. His little Asian gal pal did the same.
     
    My Baby Demons floated around God’s head chattering a mile a minute while God chuckled at their stories. I sure as shit hoped they weren’t regaling him with their recent trip to the zoo.
     
    He was mobbed quickly and I stood on the outside looking in. I didn’t know what to say anyway. He was freakin’ God after all.
     
    “Hello, Astrid,” God’s little Asian gal said as she parted the crowd and approached.
     
    Shitballs.
     
    I wracked my brain and tried to remember if God had replied with a plus one and a name. I had no clue who this woman was, but she seemed to know me.
     
    “Hi,” I said politely and put my hand out to shake.
     
    She laughed and opened her arms for an embrace.
     
    I shrugged and complied, wanting to be polite. Maybe everyone was very huggy in Heaven. It made sense to