Page 23 of Once Upon a Frosty Winter

I’ve been extremely blessed to find so many wonderful author and reader friends through the book community. I’m beyond grateful.

Thank you to my hype team and my EPIC amazing reader group, Gail’s Book Belles!

Carolina, Lori, Christine, Stephanie, and Kelly – I’d be lost without you ladies! I love y’all!!!

My saint of a husband, Boo. My wonderful daughters who are so encouraging and always make me feel like I can do anything!

Most of all, thank YOU!

xoxo Gail

If you enjoy fairytale inspired stories, read on for a sample ofCleric.

Cleric islooselybased off of the classic children’s tale Rumplestiltskin. This is not an actual retelling. There’s no magic (except in the bedroom,ba dum tss).

CLERIC: Chapter One

Lani

What is the definition of a lie? For some, it’s simply speaking an untrue statement. For others, it’s creating a false scenario or knowingly misleading someone. We can justify our lie by claiming it was necessary in order to protect someone’s feelings, even though it’s still saving our own skin by keeping us from being the ‘bad guy.’

There’s so much gray area in what’s good or bad.For the greater good—I hate that phrase. A close second is,It’s for your own good.Good. Bad. To a degree, it’s all subjective. So what do lies fall under?

The power a lie can hold: it can destroy a reputation, or it might help bring someone back from the edge of spiraling. The mastery in telling a lie: it requires a poker face and a smooth tongue. Are the deceitful and malicious the only ones who lie? Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny—those lies come from love, do they not?

Being born and raised in a little backwoods town in the deep south—the Bible Belt of Mississippi—I learned verse after verse in Sunday school about God’s view on lies. White lies weren’t mentioned during those, only that lying was bad and there was no gray area in the church.

A false witness will not go unpunished, and he who speaks lies shall perish,Proverbs 19:9. You shall destroy those who speak falsehood; the LORD abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful man,Psalm 5:6.

It’s one of the Ten Commandments.Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,Exodus 20:16.

It didn’t help that my grandmother was my Sunday school teacher. She took me to church every week, said grace before every meal, and read the Bible at night. She was a kindhearted woman who was deeply rooted in religious beliefs, yet her son—my father—turned out to be the biggest liar I know.

“A lying tongue is a deceitful tongue.”I can still hear my grandmother’s scolding when I fibbed about eating a cookie before dinner, despite being covered in melted chocolate and crumbs. The moral ideals of being honest have been ingrained in me since childhood. Maybe she was so hard on me because she felt she failed with her only child, and this was her second chance.

“The Lord delights in trustworthy people, and He detests lying lips.”

“But what if you have to lie?” I asked.

“No. It’ll always lead to no good. It’s asin,” she reminded me.

“But the Bible also tells us to love the sinner, not the sin. To honor thy father, but my father is a pathological liar.”

She simply nodded her head with a sad and defeated look in her eyes.

Now that Gram has passed away, my father is all I have in this world. To protect him, I go along with whatever crazy lie he spurts out because there’s nothing else I can do. I’m twenty-one years old and still living at home because somebody has to manage the bills. My grandmother left us her house, and I can’t bear the thought of it being taken away by the bank. I know that’s what would happen if I left. Guilt consumes me every time I think of leaving my father. He’s sick with this addiction, and I know he can’t manage himself.

I am counting down the days, though. Gram left her life savings for me to inherit on my twenty-second birthday, which is next month. I plan to use part of my inheritance to put a bank account in place to keep the house taxes and maintenance on schedule, pay for my father to get the help he needs, and then leave—to finally escape the constant worrying and dread of what story my father might have told. Disappear from the ridicule of the town due to who my father is. To finally only have myself to worry about and have people know me for who I am rather than whose daughter I am.

I still love him. Yes, he tells bald-faced lies, drinks, and gambles, but I love him. And I can’t do this anymore. I simply can’t. I’ll go insane if I stay here another year. I can tolerate the drinking. I know to leave him be, even though the next morning will be hell to clean up. The gambling is heartbreaking, but as long as we have enough to get by, I can make do.

But lying…

The lies have a domino effect. They follow me everywhere I go and spiral out of control. Out of embarrassment and loyalty, I don’t want to admit that he’s a liar. It feels like I’d be going against him, so I go along with whatever story he’s told. Those lies turn into more lies. Sometimes I can’t even keep up with them, then we’re both called liars.

If some are even too far out for me to humor him, I joke, “Pa was drunk when he told you that. You can’t pay him no mind when he’s had a few.” It’s humiliating. I love him so much, but my anxiety can’t handle this anymore. My morals and heart can only bear so much.

He’s told folks little lies, like catching outrageously large fish, to real whoppers like his income and gambling wins. If one person praises their child, he has to one-up them.

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