Preheat oven to 375°. Roll out dough on lightly floured surface to 1⁄4-inch thickness. Cut into humanoid shapes with gingerbread-person cookie cutters. Place on parchment-lined baking sheets.

Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool completely.

For the icing, mix all ingredients except food color. Divide white icing into two small cups, and use the red drops to dye one lot blood red.

Use the white icing to create mummy bandages, and the red to create wounds and bloody stumps. Use decorative sprinkles and red hots liberally.

[Source: Freely adapted from McCormick Spice collection.]

Chapter Twelve

chapter twelve

Logan was uncharacteristically nervous the day the O’Donnell clan arrived for the holidays. He was on edge, so he worked it off by shoveling the front walkway until he felt himself starting to sweat. The house looked good, he told himself. Not designer-magazine good like his folks’ place in Florida, but like a Christmas house, from the icicle-draped roofline of the front porch to the strings of colored lights lining the gables to the fresh tree in the front window, which he and the kids had decorated the day of Charlie’s arrival.

It would be the first Christmas he’d hosted for the family, and he wanted it to be just right. The big house at Saddle Mountain had plenty of room for everyone. It would be a relief to fill the upper rooms with guests. The place was just too damn big.

They all pulled into the driveway at once. Three SUVs disgorged his parents, his sisters and their families, on a frigid day the week before Christmas.

“Come on, Charlie, André, Angelica,” Logan called. “Get your coats and boots on, and you can help with the luggage.”

“Excellent,” said Charlie. “The cousins are here.” He was supercharged with excitement. They all tumbled outside into the bright, cold day. There were greetings and hugs all around.

His niece Bernie bounded through the deep snow. “You live in Christmas-land, Uncle Logan.”

He grinned and spread his arms wide. “I guess I do. You’re going to love it here.”

“Are you kidding? I already do.” She and her sister Nan toted their pink backpacks up the walk.

His mother took charge the way she always did. Once his parents had agreed to spend the holidays here instead of in Florida, Marion O’Donnell embraced her matriarchal duties. She directed everyone to their rooms and brought tons of decorations in big plastic tubs.

Logan’s heart flipped over when he saw Darcy Fitzgerald walking up to his house, toting a big duffel bag. The smile she gave him was guarded.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself. Hope you don’t mind taking in a stray for the holidays.” She offered a bright smile.

Damn. He liked her smile. “Are you kidding? Some of my best friends are strays. Come on in where it’s warm. I’ve got hot cocoa and spiced cider.”

“Two of my favorite things.”