Page 2 of Frost and Felines

The thought of her cozy house, perched on its lonely cliff, brought a smile to her face. Her latest article on "Maximizing Small Spaces with Minimal Effort" was due next week, and she had three new novels waiting on her bedside table. One was a murder mystery that had been taunting her for days – she'd been dying to find out if the butler really did do it.

"Let's see," she said, pulling out her phone to check her to-do list. "Write about throw pillows, solve a fictional murder, and get snowed in by a storm that may or may not be partially my fault." She paused. "Sounds like a perfectly normal weekend."

A strong gust of wind shook her vehicle as she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. "Okay, Mal. Time to channel your inner ninja. Get in, get supplies, avoid Mrs. Henderson's nephew stories, and get out. Simple."

The snow continued its relentless descent, transforming the world outside into a winter wonderland. Or a winter nightmare, depending on one's perspective. Either way, Mallory knew she would soon be tucked away in her sanctuary, safe from both the storm and social obligations.

"Just think," she told herself, gathering her courage to leave the car, "in a few hours, it'll be just you, a cup of hot chocolate, and your cozy mystery novel."

Mallory navigated her cart through the grocery store's fluorescent-lit aisles, her boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. The store radio crackled with an old Christmas song about silver bells and winter wonderlands. She checked her list, focusing on essentials: coffee, bread, soup, and batteries.

"Let's see, where did they move the—" Her words cut off as she passed the bakery section. The scent of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls hit her like a wave, and suddenly she was back in her kitchen two years ago, Eli dancing around with flour on his nose.

"You're supposed to put the flour inside the rolls, not all over yourself," she'd teased him that morning.

"But then how would you know I'm the baker?" He'd grabbed her waist, leaving floury handprints on her shirt.

The wind howled loudly outside and jolted her back to reality. Through the store's front windows, she watched the snow falling harder – her emotions bleeding into the weather again. Mallory took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on her shopping list.

"Paper towels, laundry detergent—" She paused, her hand hovering over a box of Earl Grey tea.

The elderly woman sorting through canned goods in the cart next to her shot her a concerned look.

"Just practicing my list out loud," Mallory explained, offering what she hoped was a normal-looking smile. "Helps me remember things better."

The woman nodded slowly and wheeled her cart away, probably to tell everyone about the strange witch talking to herself in the tea aisle.

"And this is why you typically shop online," Mallory muttered, dropping the tea into her cart anyway. It had been Eli's favorite. Sometimes she bought it just to smell it steeping,remembering lazy Sunday mornings when he'd bring her breakfast in bed.

Her cart wheels squeaked as she turned down the soup aisle. The metal shelves groaned under the weight of countless cans, their labels a blur of reds and whites. She'd need at least a week's worth, just to be safe. The approaching storm felt big – the kind that could knock out power lines and keep roads closed for days.

"Perfect excuse to avoid the winter festival," she said to herself, selecting several cans of chicken noodle soup. "Sorry, Mrs. Henderson, can't make it to meet your nephew. Snowed in. What a shame."

Outside, the wind gusted harder, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. A few shoppers glanced nervously at the ceiling, but Mallory just sighed. At least when she was alone in her house, she didn't have to worry about her emotional weather patterns inconveniencing anyone else.

2

KIERAN

Kieran balanced three boxes of Christmas ornaments in his arms while navigating through the inn's crowded lobby. The scent of cinnamon and pine needles filled the air, mixing with the warmth from the crackling fireplace. His tiger purred at the festive atmosphere, even as his human side fought to keep track of the million tasks ahead.

"And don't forget the Wilson family needs their room switched," Charlotte called out, her sensible shoes clicking against the hardwood floors as she followed him. "They specifically requested a view of the garden, not the street."

"Already handled." He set the boxes down near the twelve-foot Christmas tree dominating the corner. "Moved them to room twelve this morning while they were at breakfast."

"The caterer called about the Christmas Eve dinner."

"Let me guess - another price increase?" His muscles flexed as he reached up to hang a glittering silver ornament.

"Actually, they're short-staffed and might not be able to handle our event."

The ornament nearly slipped from his fingers. "You're kidding me. We're three weeks out!"

"I have three other catering companies on standby." Charlotte adjusted her reading glasses, consulting her ever-present tablet. "Though they're all significantly more expensive."

"Of course they are." Kieran ran his hand through his auburn hair, his tiger bristling at the mounting challenges. "What else?"

"The holiday craft fair needs more vendor space, the Santa we hired called in sick, and Mrs. Henderson complained about the carolers being too loud last night."

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