A Funny Thing Happened...

Amidst the twinkling lights and snow-kissed streets of a quaint, picture-perfect town in the High Sierra, a bookstore owner and former homicide detective are reminded that the greatest mysteries are the ones that lead us to love.

Join Adrien English and Jake Riordan one last time in a short, sweet tale that will warm your heart and remind you that love knows no bounds, especially during the most magical time of the year.

A Funny Thing Happened…

An Adrien English Christmas Story

Josh Lanyon

Love leads us to ourselves—this is the mystery of love.

Frederick Lenz

Introduction

Warning: this book contains no murders, no mayhem, and no real mystery (barring the endlessly puzzling mystery of why and when we love).

It is, very simply, the final chapter–a coda, if you will—to the long and winding journey so many of you made with Adrien English and Jake Riordan.

Is this the last we will ever see of Adrien and Jake? Highly unlikely. But it is the most we will see of them in any one sitting for the foreseeable future.

A shorter original version of this story appeared in 2020’a Fatal Shadows: The Collector’s Edition.

Ironically, as I was rewriting and expanding that coda, I thought how long ago the (first) pandemic seemed—and the very next day my SO came down with Covid.

So. Funny things happen for sure.

Anyway, Happy Holidays to you and yours from Adrien, Jake, and yours truly.

Whoa, Jake said. I could feel that frown from the front door.

I glanced up from the pages of the glossy fashion magazine Natalie had left on the front desk, and stopped scowling. "Hey. I didn’t hear you come in."

As Jake reached me, I pulled my mask down, and we kissed hello. He smelled like the night, cold and sharp, with a hint of faded aftershave; a peculiarly seductive blend of Mandarin orange and leather. You’d think by now I’d be used to…well, all of it. But the pressure of his mouth was warm against mine, and our lips lingered…lingered… Turns out, love is sticky stuff.

We reluctantly parted—and Jake promptly, gently pulled my mask back up. He pulled his mask up.

I sighed. You know, it’s after-hours. We’re alone now.

He touched the tip of my masked nose. Yep. It’s just you, me, and fifty billion germs.

Clearly, he was forgetting about trigger-happy Natalie and her trusty can of linen-scented Lysol disinfectant.

The agreement we made was I’d continue to work at Cloak and Dagger through the pandemic, but pledged to be extra-diligent and super-vigilant about following all virus protocols. Which I complied with because A – I’m not an idiot, and B – making Jake happy is a priority for me.

I mean, it’s a mask. Try being on a fucking ventilator. Been there, done that, and will do everything in my power to avoid repeating the experience.

"Speaking