He stalks you when you’re sleeping. He kills when you’re awake…
Reporter Rebekka Franck is ready to escape the headlines for a relaxing holiday with her family. Small town Cocoa Beach, Florida seems like the perfect getaway for sunny days and silent nights. At least, until a boy’s dead body is found stuffed in the chimney…
Rebekka learns that the boy is the latest in a long line of victims preyed upon by a local legend. But a demon cloaked in red with sharp fingernails who comes down the chimney can’t be real. Can it?
With the help of a local teen whose dad fell victim to the creature, Rebekka investigates the growing body count. But as Christmas creeps closer, the reporter must catch the demon before it checks her and her family’s names off the naughty list…
Better Not Cry is a spine-tingling Christmastime horror story featuring Willow Rose’s iconic characters Rebekka Franck and Jack Ryder. If you like pulse-pounding scares, imaginative plots, and hellish new takes on Santa, then you’ll love Willow Rose’s holiday horror.
She lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watch the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
Willow’s books are fast-paced, nail-biting pageturners.
Several of her books have reached the Kindle top 20 of ALL books in the US, UK, and Canada.
She has sold more than two million books.
She couldn’t have been much more than five or six when it happened. It wasn’t on Christmas Eve when most people usually saw him. It was in the middle of December when she had heard the rustling from downstairs and hurried down. She had spotted Santa in her living room, sitting in her dad’s recliner. As he saw her, he tapped his lap and signaled for her to come and sit on it and so she had. He had laughed his deep laugh while asking her what she wanted for Christmas and Jackie had told him, whispering how she wished for a new bike, a Barbie doll with purple nails and…oh, yes…for her parents to no longer be divorced.
Santa had laughed, holding his stomach, then told her he couldn’t give her all of that, but he could give her something else.
“What?” she had asked, looking up into his red glowing eyes that looked like two beautiful Christmas globes.
Santa had turned his lips upward in a grin when suddenly the light was turned on in the living room and her mom had spoken with a sleepy voice.
“What’s going on down here?”
Jackie looked up at her, then said: “It’s Santa, Mommy. He wants to know what I want for Christmas.” “What are you talking about, Jackie? It’s not even Christmas yet.” Jackie had then turned her head back to look at Santa, but he was gone and she was sitting in the recliner all alone.
“Get back to bed,” her mother had said angrily. “I don’t like you running around at nighttime.” “But…?”
“Go to bed.”
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