Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Embracing the town’s eerie charm, I open Trick or Treat, a bar destined to become the epicenter of fun and spine-tingling excitement.
On the opening night of our Thirteen Days of Halloween Celebration, all my plans take an unexpected turn when Catwoman strolls through the door and steals my heart.
Sparks fly amidst the cobweb-draped chandeliers and spirited costumes, and I’m up against a challenge more daunting than anything in my past: confessing my slightly shady history to Kat Wayne while persuading her to take a chance on me.
I’ll do whatever it takes to win over my curvy little soulmate—even if it means navigating the skeletons in my closet, because giving Kat up isn’t an option.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Tony
I walk through Trick or Treat, my new passion project in the heart of Midnight Falls, Texas, just grinning like an idiot. Who would’ve thought that Tony Conti, former righthand man to one of Vegas's biggest mob bosses, would end up here, in this quirky little town that celebrates Halloween all year round? But here I am, retired at thirty-nine and opening a Halloween-themed bar in the old general store building. This kind of shit only happens in Midnight Falls.
The transformation of the old, dusty factory into this vintage, three-level haunt of mine feels surreal. Cobweb chandeliers, skeleton bartenders, and even a dance floor in the basement—I'm like a kid in a candy store, except the candy is craft beer and ridiculous spooky cocktails.
Tonight's the first of my Thirteen Nights of Halloween Bash, and I'm buzzing with a mix of nerves and excitement as I watch a few early birds trickle in, wearing the most elaborate of costumes. I'm hoping this bash will put Trick or Treat on the map. I mean, after all those years in Vegas, dealing with high rollers and even higher stakes, throwing a party in the postage-stamp-sized town should be a walk in the park, right?
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's Marco, my best friend and former boss. I chuckle before I even answer, knowing he’s going to rib me about this.
“Hey, traitor!”, Marco bellows through the phone, and the familiar roar reminds me how much I’m missing my old life. Way fucking more than I’d expected. “How’s my favorite deserter doing?”
“Deserter? I thought I was your favorite retiree now,” I counter, leaning against the bar and waving at a couple dressed like Dracula and Frankenstein as they walk past.
Marco laughs, that deep, booming sound that used to scare the crap out of everyone but Tabitha, his adorably sweet wife. “You up and leave me in Vegas to run some hick-town ghost bar. I give you two months before you’re bored out of your fucking mind.”
I don’t think so, but I’m not about to argue with Marco. “How’s Tabitha?” I shift the conversation to his wife, hoping he’ll take the bait and let the other subject die.
“She’s good. She said to tell you that nobody makes a lasagna like you do.” I smile, remembering how much my friend loves my cooking. I miss parts of my old life, especially my friends, but not all the rest that went with it. “So, how’s it really going down there?” His voice shifts into the don’t fucking attempt to lie to me tone he perfected over the years of running his family’s business.
“It’s all going according to plan, Marco. You’d love it here—though you'd probably scare the townsfolk," I joke, imagining Marco strolling down Main Street like he owns the place.
I can hear him let out a huff on the other end. "Well, I better get a VIP invite if I ever make it out to that spook-fest.”
“Is there any other kind of invitation for the Dean of Darkness?”
“The Dean of Darkness?” He chuckles. “That goddamn crazy ass town is already rubbing off on you.”
He’s not wrong. I should be worried about how fast I’ve turned into one of the locals, but I’m not. The first moment I stepped foot in Midnight Falls, I instantly fell for the Halloween-themed town.
Our banter goes back and forth, grounding me. Turns out you can take the man out of Vegas, but the friends and memories? They stick with you, no matter how much fake cobweb you have to dust off when you think about them. The call ends with Marco telling me he's proud of me, in that roundabout way of his, and I hang up feeling even better about what I’ve built here.
I slip the phone back into my pocket and look out at the growing crowd. Dracula and Frankenstein are now dancing with a ghost and a witch, and just like that, I’m home, in this town that’s adopted me and my kooky bar idea.
Here’s to new beginnings, old friends, and thirteen nights of ghoulishly good fun. Who knew retirement could be such a scream?
The first night of my Thirteen Nights of Halloween bash went off without a hitch. We were packed to the gills until well after closing time, and I left last night feeling exhausted and rejuvenated at the same time.
Now, the second night is in full swing, and I’m completely in my element. The bar is buzzing with lively chatter and laughter, and the place is packed. I stand behind the old, dark wood bar, admiring how the stained-glass mural casts colorful patterns across the room. It’s all coming together better than I could have imagined when I came up with this kooky idea.
Shane, my head bartender, and the best hire I've made so far, is juggling cocktail shakers like a pro. He’s dressed as a rock star vampire with his long brown hair pulled into a low ponytail behind his head, black eyeliner on his eyes, and two gleaming white fangs. As he slides a bright green concoction across the bar, I lean over to him.