“"Okay, Baby Jesus is definitely moving." Her stomach fluttered with a weird little pitch and roll. What the hell is going on? She looked at the huge, gray dog. "Plaster statues rarely move, just in case you didn't know, so this is truly something weird." Quinn didn't seem to care. That made one of them. "So, either we go wake up Father Reilly to document a miracle, or we alert the Enquirer!' She shifted her gaze back to the Nativity, just ten short feet away. "But either way, we really ...ought to get a closer look, huh?" Everyday life was a little different when you lived in Christmas, California. Here, Carol told herself, where the Spirit of Christmas thrived 365 days a year, all things were possible. Still, statues that moved on their own would be of some interest, even in Christmas. Carol knew Christmas like the back of her hand—and she loved every square inch of it. Had from the very beginning.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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