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Rick Butler moved to the small town of Grand Lake in Colorado to hide his secret… well, two, really. To everyone, he was a normal man… but little did they know he consisted mainly of flour, sugar, eggs, and ginger.
Yep, I am the real gingerbread cookie man.
His other secret? He was a Gingerbread Daddy looking for a Babygirl—the one woman who could turn him into flesh and blood and break the curse once and for all. Clarissa Stone checked all the boxes. If she believed she was going to get out of baking his little minions and run back to the big city, she was in for a huge Christmas surprise.
I am her Gingerbread Daddy… all she has to do is take one bite…
I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this story as I had writing it!
Warm regards,
Linzi Basset
Chapter One
Eight days to Christmas Eve—D-day. Grand Lake, a small town in the Rocky Mountains, Grand County, Colorado…
Rick Butler’s mind was ablaze with memories. It always was at this time of year since it was within the time span of the week between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day when he stood a chance to get his life back… or rather, since he couldn’t go back to when this shitshow began, to start a new life.
Year after year, decade after decade, damn! Century after century, he had been searching for the one woman who could forever destroy the curse that held him captive… bound to the tenuous existence of baking a batch of gingerbread man cookies every Christmas Eve, so he could turn from flour, honey, eggs, and ginger into a flesh and blood man once and for all.
And unless he found the one woman who could accept him for the man he had become over centuries past, he was doomed to live the same dour existence until the end of time.
His mind drifted back to Christmas Eve… so very long ago.
The Castle of King Ricardo III, the year 1485…
“You have broken my daughter’s heart. King or not, you will pay for driving her to lose her mind!”
“I did no such thing. Maid Hariet wouldn’t listen when I warned her I had no interest in marrying her. She knew from the start that our dalliance would be a mutual seeking of pleasure.”
“You deviant! You deviled her! Worse! You turned her love for what she did best into that which she now hates the most.”
King Ricardo stared morosely at the old woman. It was rumored in the hallowed walls of the castle that she was a witch. Of course, he didn’t believe in such tall tales, but the way her eyes flashed red sparks of fire startled him.
“I’m afraid I know not what you speak of. Hariet only visited my chambers thrice. I haven’t seen her for weeks.”
“Because you broke her spirit. The one thing she took pride in wasn’t good enough for you.” Her hands flailed in the air. “Everyone in this village loves her baking but you!” A crooked finger dangled in front of his face. “You laughed and ridiculed her when she presented you with a cookie that was supposed to honor you as the king.”
“I don’t understand. Wait. Are you talking about that awfully sweet and gingery cookie that looked like a hobbit on a horse?” His face turned into a grimace. “I hate sweets, Madam, and I wouldn’t pretend I like something to please anyone. That was a godawful-looking cookie and sweeter than the darkest molasses. No man would be able to swallow it down, let alone like it.”
She waved her hands, her eyes aglow with an incandescent light as a red haze swirled around her.
“Then you shall carry that curse with you until such a day that a woman falls in love with you. Here is the caveat, King Ricardo. She has to believe your story and accept the man you’ve become.” She released a hysterical cackle. “On this day, the twenty-fourth day of the last month of every year, you will bake a batch of the same cookies she has made for you… gingerbread man cookies. Once they are baked and out of the oven, you have another year to live as a flesh and blood man. If you fail to bake the cookies before the clock strikes twelve on Christmas Eve of every year, you will dissolve into flour, molasses, eggs, and ginger. Yes, you will become a giant gingerbread man.” Her eyes glimmered with glee.
“I will concede this to you. You have until the clock strikes midday of every New Year’s Day to hear her say these words—I love you, no matter where you come from or what you have done. I love you for the man you are today. Only then will the curse be broken, and you will become a normal man forever. Until then, you will be nothing but the ingredients you scoffed at.”
The old witch dissolved in a whirl of smoke, leaving behind a sheet of paper fluttering to the floor. Picking it up, he stared at it in disbelief.
“King Ricardo III’s Gingerbread Cookie recipe,” he read the heading in a hushed tone, still not believing what had just happened. She had just disappeared in a haze of red smoke. “She is a witch!”
At first, Ricardo was worried, but as days turned to weeks and months, he forgot about the curse… until Christmas Eve came around. He was enjoying the villagers honoring him with carol singing when he noticed his hands feeling sticky. With horror, he stared at his fingers, watching as they became covered in a film of flour. The witch’s words echoed in his mind.
“If you fail to bake the cookies before the clock strikes twelve on Christmas Eve of every year, you will dissolve in flour, molasses, eggs, and ginger. Yes, you will become a giant gingerbread man.”
“Good God, it’s happening! Cook! Where’s the cook? I need help in the kitchen,” he shouted as he ran to his bedchamber to find the recipe that he had carelessly flung into a desk drawer a year ago.
By the time he managed to place the tray of what presented broken twigs into the oven, he was trembling, his fingers were dripping with a molasses-like substance, and his skin felt flakey as it turned to flour. With seconds to spare, the cookies were finished baking and thrown out onto a cooling tray. With horror in his eyes, he stared at his hands, watching the signs of turning into a gingerbread man receding.
