Descending Into Madness (Winterland Tale #1)

By Stacey Marie Brown

Your holiday season is about to get deliciously Naughty...

What if Alice Liddell’s story didn’t happen the way you think? What if it wasn’t Wonderland she fell into, but Winterland.

After losing her job and finding her boyfriend/boss cheating on her with her replacement, twenty-five-year-old Alice Liddell has moved back home to save money and regroup.

She doesn’t think things can get worse until her younger, more responsible sister, Dinah, gets her a job—as a Christmas elf.

Dressed in a slutty costume with fathers peeking down her top and kids vomiting on her, she wants nothing more than to escape the reality of her life.

When she sees a sexy, shirtless man, carrying a glowing red light, and bearing antlers, her curiosity gets the better of her. But following him might be the biggest mistake she ever made.

Falling into another realm, Alice finds herself in the world of holiday legends and fairytales. But she is not prepared her for the dark madness of this place. Nothing is what is seems and no one is what they are in the fairytales.

Even the mysterious, sexy Scrooge.

Welcome to Winterland, where the good guys from the North Pole have gone bad, and the only way to survive is to descend into its madness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacey Marie Brown
• Release date: Jul 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463276266

Stacey Marie Brown

Stacey Marie Brown is a lover of hot fictional bad boys and heroines who kick butt. Books, travel, TV series, hiking, writing, design, and archery. Swears she is part gypsy, being lucky enough to live and travel all over the world.She grew up in Northern California, where she ran around on her family’s farm, raising animals, riding horses, playing flashlight tag, and turning hay bales into cool forts. Has always been fascinated by things dark and creepy, but needs to be balanced by humor and romance. She believes that all animals, people and the planet should be treated kindly.

Book preview

A heavy sigh puffed from my lips as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my red-and-white-striped legs on the fireplace. The bells attached to my curved green booties tinkled. The humiliation of my current situation turned my cheeks as bright as the red trim on the very inappropriate elf costume I wore. I helped put kids on Santa’s lap, while fathers stared down my low-cut top and ogled at the shortness of the skirt. My boss was a sleaze, and I had no doubt he picked these outfits on purpose. Funny how many fathers brought their children here to take a picture with Santa… multiple times.

At twenty-five, I thought my life would have been way past this. Life had laughed loudly at my lofty dreams: to be a hat designer with my own store, have a sexy boyfriend and at least enough money to afford a studio apartment in the city.

My last job was as an assistant to a thirty-five-year-old executive, who I had stupidly slept with. Then he decided the twenty-one-year-old new employee was more to his liking. He determined the best way to end things was to fire me. Oh, sorry, his secretary fired me. He didn’t even have the balls to tell me face to face.

Unemployed and not able to afford rent or even groceries, I came home with my tail between my legs. I returned to my parents’ house for the holiday season, which gave me time to decide the best way to get back on my feet. Dinah, my younger sister by more than eight years, had gotten me the job here, adding to my mortification. She was the one who always had a good head on her shoulders. Logical and wise beyond her years, while I was a dreamer. Dinah had a steady, caring boyfriend and worked here to save money for college and to pay for her used car, which I was borrowing.

I had none of those things. I never thought about the steps it took to get what I wanted. I just jumped. Hence, the reason I was dressed up like a tarty elf assisting a high-as-shit Santa and had already been thrown up on twice today.

Alice, a gruff voice barked at me, turning my head. Gabe’s fake white beard was pulled down under his chin. The ill-fitting Santa suit sagged on his frame, and an unlit joint stuck out of his mouth. Going on my break. He tilted his head at the back door.

I nodded, wiggling my fingers at him. I twisted my long, straight, dark brown hair around my finger and returned to the book open on my lap. It had been extremely slow tonight, but we couldn’t even think about leaving for at least another two hours. We were not located conveniently in a warm mall. No, we were attached to a large Christmas tree farm on the outskirts of town—New Britain, Connecticut. The snow fell heavy tonight. People who came all the way out here expected Santa’s Workshop to be open with warm cider, hot chocolate, and a happy elf to greet their kids.

Groaning, I rubbed my head, wishing I had the means to stand up and walk out the door. The pay was barely passable, but it was steady, and I had no room to turn my nose up at it.

I lifted my arms, stretching, trying to keep myself awake. The city college catalogs my mom stuffed into my bag slipped off my lap, sticky notes protruding from the business section. Also falling to the ground was the fantasy novel I found myself far more drawn to than finding classes for the spring semester.

Anyone who saw my designs said I had a gift, a natural talent in creating and fabricating hats. I couldn’t even say what drew me to my love of hats. I had always adored them, the look and how they could change an outfit or your outlook. From crazy whimsical hats women loved to wear, to derbies, to something simple as a newsboy cap, I spent hours sketching the different looks, tweaking an old design into something new.

The problem? I had no business background and no education past high school, which everyone told me would hinder me. I understood this, yet I still had no desire to go to college. I wanted to create. To dream. Every time business class was even uttered, I felt a piece of me die inside. Most people told me my dream was impossible, but it never stopped me from believing in the unachievable.

Slumping back in the chair, I grabbed my book off the floor, opening it to the page where I left off. The cold wind howled through the cracks of the door and windows, making me feel even more isolated in the small cabin. It looked like Christmas threw up all over and then pooped out tinsel. It was adorable and cozy, but I had hit my limit of Christmas songs and cheer.

Why don’t they have any hot toddies or mulled wine here? Not even spiked hot chocolate, I grumbled, putting my legs up near the hearth to keep warm. No one should have to deal with this sober. I rubbed my eyes. I had been working doubles for the last week, trying to get as much money as possible. I could feel the hours adding up and pressing down on my shoulders and eyelids. Propping the novel on my knees, I stepped back into the dark, twisted world of fae and sexy beasts, where everything felt like paradise to me. Not shocking, fantasy was my favorite type of book where bad equaled sexy-as-hell men who I wanted more than the nice guy. I let myself get lost in the story, pretending I was living in the realm of fantasy and other worlds.

A muffled noise outside the window caused me to lift my head. Out of the corner of my eye, a small red light flickered by the window, along with the silhouette of a man walking by. My lids narrowed, a strange shiver running up my spine as I watched the figure slip by the next window. His strong shoulders and tall physique assured me it was not Gabe. Gabe was barely two inches taller than my 5’8" stature and not at all fit.

Santa’s workshop was situated far enough to the side of the Christmas tree lot that very little traffic, outside of families and people seeking hot drinks, ventured over here, especially tonight in this chilly, snowy weather. But still, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Intrigued, I stood up. Like a magnet, I moved to the window, a buzz I couldn’t explain humming in my chest as my gaze searched the night. The man had moved quickly, in a great hurry, heading for the tree farm. The red light he held cut through the haze of the snow. He looked to be wearing only brown cargo pants and nothing on top. What the hell? It’s less than thirty degrees out there.

Curiosity soared through me, and the pull to follow him itched at my muscles. What was he doing? Where was he going? I had always been a curious person, sometimes to my detriment. Tonight seemed to be one of those times. He was a few yards away from the trees, and once he stepped in, I knew I’d never know.

Without a thought, I darted for the door, afraid I’d lose him. The icy wind blasted me full on, prickling my skin with large goosebumps. I shivered and regretted not taking a moment to grab my jacket. Plodding through the icy snow, my elf boots crushed the powder as I ran around the building, my breath billowing in front of me. I came around the side seeking the red light. The clouds covering the sky allowed no moonlight, and it took me a moment to realize no lights shined from the tree lot as they usually did. A tinge of alarm coiled around my neck, puffing my chest in and out faster.

The man was gone. Dammit. But another uneasiness gripped me.

Gabe? I called out. Usually he stepped out to smoke a few puffs before he leaped back in, grumbling about his balls freezing off. He was nowhere out back. Gabe?

Silence echoed around me, the Christmas music that usually blared from the loud speakers dotted around the lot were off. Along with the lights.

Curious.

What was going on? Did the electricity go out? I stared inside the workshop to see the lights were on in there.

Curiouser.

A light from the corner of my eye jerked my head back around. A red beam danced through the tree farm, making my breath hitch.

Hurry. Run. Follow him! The voice in my head jolted my body into action, propelling me toward the light. I slowed once I hit the trees, the heavy fog clinging to the trees and ground. Seclusion coated me like a jacket, and the feeling of desolation prickled my skin.

Where is everyone? The owner of the farm had five grown sons who were always walking around, making sure everyone was okay. No lights. No people. What the hell is going on?

Standing in place, my teeth chattering, fear laced around my stomach and twisted it into a knot. Something felt very off. The dark night pressed down on my shoulders, creating distinctive shadows from the trees, looming and dripping off the limbs. Branches creaked against the wind, swirling up the white powder, making me feel even more isolated.

In front of me, red glowed through the dark, and I bolted forward with eagerness. Numb and shivering, I couldn’t stop myself from continuing deeper in the forest instead of turning around and going back to the toasty cottage. My inquisitiveness was greater than my sanity or logic.

Moving forward, I wove through the trees, darting and snaking closer to the red light like it was a beacon.

The man’s outline became clearer as I moved closer. He was definitely bare-chested. And holy jingle bells, he was fit. His back rippled with muscle. He was over six foot, with short, wavy brown hair, which reminded me of fur. My gaze kept catching on something on either side of his head—pointed and twitching as if they were listening for sound.

Are those ears? This night was getting stranger and stranger. Was he in costume or something? Who wore deer ears but no shirt? In the snow?

He progressed rapidly, rounding a tree, losing me for a moment.

Hey! I yelled out to him. Wait! I went around the corner, seeing him stop and turn his face back to me. A small gasp came from my mouth, and I stumbled back. What the hell? Did I somehow get a contact high from Gabe’s joint?

The man was beautiful, but his nose protruded farther than a human’s, the tip black, his eyebrows, eye color, and thin lips the same color as his nose. Antlers grew out from behind his long ears.

Late, he rumbled low. I’m very late.

Holy shit. I blinked, my mouth gaping.

Fear widened his eyes, and he took off, disappearing into the forest the tree farm butted up against.

No, wait. Stop. I fumbled after him, my limbs so cold I could barely move. Grunting, I pushed myself forward, trailing after the red light that was my only guide through the darkness. He moved with quiet precision. Like a ghost.

Hey, Mr. Deer Man, wait up, I yelled, my lungs aching from the cold air, snow churning around my ankles, the bells on my shoes jingling as I bolted after him. The red glow popped through the twisted branches and snowcapped leaves. Stop!

He turned and looked at me again before darting deeper into the woods, leaping over a log as if he were on springs. I didn’t think but ran faster, desperate not to lose him. I twisted and zigzagged, my eyes thinking they would see the red light, but with each tree I curved around, the deer man was nowhere in sight.

Dammit. My fists hit my legs in frustration. I circled around, searching the darkness for the flicker of light. The forest loomed, shadows making it feel alive, bending and curling toward me. The feel of dozens of eyes watching me chilled my backbone and clenched my lungs.

Alice, go back. What are you doing? Get out of here. A voice in the back of my head warned. Forget you saw anything.

I rubbed my exposed arms, shifting in place trying to decide what to do when the red light peeked through the woodland. I should have pretended not to see it. I should have turned around and forgotten all I thought I imagined. But as usual, my curiosity won out.

Running toward the light, I saw the man walk up to the base of a large tree and in a blink, disappeared. What the hell?

Heart pounding, fear icing my spine, I jogged up to the same tree. Where did he go? What the crap was going on? I touched the tree, needing to feel the bark under my palm.

Everything shifted.

The world dropped away from my feet. A scream caught in my throat as I felt myself plummet, descending down a dark, dark hole.

Chapter 2

My body fell like a rock. Scrambling, my limbs swung out, trying to grab anything in the darkness, a shriek erupting from my throat. I flipped and twisted in the air, my teeth clamping together as I waited for impact.

A hazy light at the bottom started to break through the darkness, and I realized that’s where my bones would break into tiny pieces. Funny what comes into your head at the last moment. I knew how upset my family would be never knowing what happened to me, but what stuck out the most was the outlandish thought I would never find out where the deer man went or what he was late for. Was he real? Was I hallucinating? And curiosity really did kill me in the end.

The ground came at me like a speeding train, and I closed my eyes, knowing these were my final seconds. My heart smacked against my chest, a sob forming on my lips. Then, as though the world flipped, my elf costume caught like a parachute, halting my rapid descent. Resembling a feather, my weight gripped the air and floated until my feet touched as if I were being gently set down by the air itself.

My hand went to my chest, feeling my heart hammering against my palm. I sucked in oxygen, shock dancing along my nerves. I’m alive. I’m alive. I patted myself, taking another slug of air, my throat dry and cracked. My gaze drifted around the space. I blinked, then blinked again.

Holy tinsel! Where in the hell was I?

The room was square-shaped, rising two stories. The brown walls were crumbling and dilapidated, as if no one had been in here for years, but the smell of something sweet still clung to the air. The A-line roof tilted to one side, looking like it would collapse any minute. What appeared to be caulking material glued the seams together and was used to hold the place together. Age had sucked the adhesive dry, making it as fragile as the walls. I could see no doors or windows, but a single lantern sat on a small table next to me and lit the room with eerie shadows.

I inched up to the walls, my hand running over the texture, crumbs falling into my palm. The scent of spice wafted up my nose. Taking a deep breath, I held it close to my face.

Gingerbread.

Holy-fuckin’-silent-night, I muttered, taking a closer look at the white paste near me.

Frosting.

I was in a frickin’ gingerbread house.

What is this place? Where the hell am I? Panic spread over my chest, seeing no way out of this room. Wake up, Alice. Wake up! I squeezed my lids together, pinching my arm, trying to stir myself from this bizarre dream, but when my lids popped back open, the gingerbread walls still surrounded me, a threat looming down on me.

No doors. No windows. No exit.

Trapped.

What happened to Mr. Rudolph Man? Didn’t he come this way? Did he know a secret way out?

I walked along the perimeter, running my hands over the cracked, dry walls, trying to find some hidden escape. This place felt like it could fall at any moment. In life I was extremely clumsy and overly curious, but never did I imagine death by gingerbread would be my end. If I pushed at the walls, the house might collapse on me. Normally I’d relish the idea of being buried in gingerbread, but only if I had spiked hot chocolate to dip the pieces in.

Oh! That sounded good. I needed a drink about now. Maybe then something would make sense.

Sighing, I gazed around the room, trying to find anything that might get me out of here. My eyes landed on the table, a new object catching my attention, causing me to gasp in fright.

Holy-fuckin-night. My attention narrowed in on the steaming mug now sitting on the table. A chill covered my skin, knowing it wasn’t there a moment ago. My pulse thumped in my ears as I tiptoed closer, my gaze darting around, expecting something to jump out at me. The mug was red-and-green striped with something written on the side. I peered down into the dark liquid, smelling a mix of peppermint schnapps and chocolate.

Spiked hot chocolate!

I tried to keep my breath even, knowing I had wished for it a moment ago and now it was sitting on the table, as if I conjured it up. My mouth watered at the aroma, my parched throat aching for liquid. Slowly, I picked up the mug, turning the scripted text on the side to me.

"Drink me." I read the words curling over the side of the cup. A tiny warning bell went off in my head, telling me not to follow the instructions. I had no idea what was in it. Poison? A sleeping drug?

Staring around the room, a chunk of cookie fell to the floor from high up on the wall. I jumped, spilling some of the hot drink. The cookie splintered into tiny pieces like wood chunks, a slice cutting across my cheek.

Ow! My fingers went to my face. Blood covered my hand. Shit. I stared up at the walls, realizing I was in more trouble than I thought. This was real. You didn’t feel pain in dreams. The stinging ache and blood told me whatever world I was in right now could kill me.

A crackling moan rang out, and a piece the size of a coffee table hit the ground, fracturing across the floor. Debris cut through my striped tights, slicing my legs.

Shit! I screamed. Okay, I was half joking when I said death by gingerbread. I could feel panic swirl in my stomach.

Crash!

A portion equal to a small car hit the floor near me, tossing me into the air, ripping the cup from my hand. The contents splashed everywhere as my spine slammed onto the ground, a groan of pain spouting from my lungs.

That’s the way the cookie crumbles was taking on a whole new meaning.

I had to get out of here. No different from any house falling down on you, the gingerbread would kill me. I had nowhere to hide except under a small table.

Move, Alice!

Bones aching, I pushed myself up as smaller chunks crashed around me. I dove under the table just as another part of the house tumbled straight down, collapsing onto the table, sharp slivers slicing at my exposed skin. The table groaned under the weight. It would not hold for long.

Think, Alice, I berated myself. Dinah was good at solving problems and figuring her way out of situations. I would think of crazy things, but not the steps to achieve them. My parents always said I was the big idea person, while Dinah was analytical one. Basically, my head was in the clouds, and I loved living in my fantasy world. But right now I wished I were more similar to Dinah.

Haze billowed from the debris, getting caught in my throat, coating my tongue with stale gingerbread. The inner wall seemed to be collapsing, giving me no way out.

A loud creak echoed down from above, the roof swaying on the decrepit structure. Dread swelled in my throat, my body pulsing with adrenaline. I needed a way out of here, now, and to be strong enough to push through the walls without getting pulverized.

I peered out from under the table as cookie rained down in chucks the size of large hail. Big crumbs covered the floor like rocks and boulders. My gaze searched around, landing on something right by my hand, my eyebrows furrowing.

A fully decorated gingerbread man cookie lay next to my thumb, the words Eat Me written on his green-and-red-striped sweatshirt.

Again, I glanced around, knowing it wasn’t there before, but I saw no one place it there either. It appeared, like magic. I read about magical lands and fae beasts, and I always preferred them to real life, but I completely understood the difference between reality and books. In this moment the truth of this place was slamming fear into my stomach and down my limbs. Reality did not hold real magic. But I couldn’t think of any other explanation. The drink and cookie appeared out of nowhere.

Bang! Crack! The table covering me fractured down the middle, only one strip of wood holding it together.

Shit! I screamed, covering the back of my neck and head. I had no idea what would happen if I ate the treat, but I had few options. It must have been there for a reason. The gingerbread house was going to fold like a house of cards, flattening me under it anyway.

Fuck it. I grabbed the sweet. It was still warm, the frosting perfect on the little man, his face painted into a smile, his dark beady eyes staring at me. If you scream or come to life, I swear… I closed my eyes, biting down on the spiced treat.

Ooooohmygod. I groaned as the warm sweetness covered my tongue. I had never tasted a gingerbread cookie this good. And it wasn’t even my favorite type of cookie. Crap, it might be worth getting squashed over.

As soon as the words left my mouth, the table screeched, fragments tearing through the last bit that was held together, splitting it open and exposing me. Terror overwhelmed me as I crouched close to the ground, looking around for a place to hide. I darted and zigzagged as portions rained down. I felt like I was in some warped version of a war zone.

The floor shuddered and I froze in place. The entire wall in front of me swayed, ready to come down. I had no place else I could go. It was going to crush me.

A loud noise tore through the space as the wall ripped away from the frosting, the section falling toward me. A scream bubbled in my throat, and I dropped to my knees covering myself, bracing, my mind screaming, my thoughts hoping for a way out of this. Energy buzzed around me, coating my skin.

My eyelashes pinched together, and I curled into a ball. I waited and waited, hearing the ground groan around me. It shook as the wall collapsed, but not a speck touched my skin.

Huh?

Lifting my head, it took me a moment to register what happened. The large wall was in shards about me, but where I lay was untouched. I could see an electrical charge, like an energy field, buzz around me. It protected me by cutting through the thick wall as if it were paper, pouring pieces all around me.

Curious and curiouser.

Slowly I stood up and brushed myself off, watching the electricity hum a foot around my body.

What the hell was in that cookie? I looked back at the shattered table. If the rest of the cookie was still there, it was buried deep below the rubble. Debris still tumbled down from one wall that had yet to fall. Nothing touched me, sliding over the protective bubble I was in. Okay, this is pretty badass.

The tweeting of a bird pulled my attention past the wrecked house. I stared out into what looked like a Christmas tree farm, but the trees felt dark and twisted, evil coiling their branches.

Moonlight streamed through the trees, lighting a path. Climbing over the remains, I noticed several huge gumdrops on the ground. They were tall enough to reach my waist and wide enough to be a loveseat. Dried, discolored, and wrinkled as though they had sat out for years. I turned, staring back at what was left of the house, the final wall barely standing. Then it groaned, toppling forward, bursting my eardrums