Haint Blue needs a vacation. It looks like she’ll be alone for Christmas. Her relationship with Buster is in limbo. Why not slip off to the beach? She can almost taste the fish tacos and fried shrimp. But before she can make a motel reservation, psychic Aunt Moira calls. I had a vivid dream this morning. There was a bright Christmas tree…children laughing…an empty deep freezer in a garage. You were wringing your hands in a red apron. Some weird nursery rhyme repeated ‘the larder was bare, the larder was bare’. The dream tells me that you need to stock your pantry; you’re going to be a busy hostess this Christmas. Get your holiday cookbooks out, sweetheart.
Surely not. As the 25th approaches, the phone calls begin.
Haint? This is Yolanda, from Paco’s. Our restaurant stove–something is wrong. It’s gas. Sometimes it works and then suddenly nada. Sometimes I swear I smell gas. I’m not going to play with gas. I’m afraid of gas. We were wondering if you had a few cabins?

Haint? Max. Listen, my sister Nellavon thinks I’m dying. She’s got this hairbrained notion to get the family together. I can’t talk her out of it. I know business has been slow, and I was wondering, you gonna be open for the holidays?

We’re travelling with alpacas. Do you have space to exercise them?

We’re the Lame Brain Zombie LARPers…party of seven, do you have a cabin?

My client wants privacy.
The calls keep coming. And odd little gifts keeping showing up and disappearing. What’s that about? As the retreat fills to capacity, strangers become family as they come together for a Haint Blue Christmas. Looking for a funny, feel-good holiday romp with a bit of mystery? This is the one.