Happy Easter!
I was a bit late writing this post and thought to myself, I’ll make it easy, I’ll write something about Easter. But what’s typical about Easter? In Sweden, we dress up as Easter witches and eat loads of candy.
You might not know what an Easter witch is. A super quick trip on Google told me it’s a Swedish and Finnish tradition. You see, on Maundy Thursday, which is the day I’m writing this, all the witches around here hop on their brooms and fly to Blåkulla. No one really knows where this Blåkulla is. In Sweden, we have several places called Blåkulla — it means blue hill.
Writing this, has the wheels spinning in my head. I know what I’ll be writing for Easter next year LOL. Anyway, the witches hopped on their brooms and flew to Blåkulla to meet up with the Devil and have orgies up to Easter Eve or Easter Sunday, they’re a bit unclear on what day they stopped.
This has to do with the witch persecutions in the 1600s. More than 200 women were killed in Sweden, the last one in 1704. For decades to come, we still had the death penalty for witchcraft, and to prevent witches to get to Blåkulla during this period, everything that could be used as a vehicle was locked away on Maundy Thursday, including cows so no witch would get it into her head to ride there.
Today, kids dress up as witches and go from house to house to wish their neighbours a happy Easter. It’s similar to trick or treating since it’s custom to give the kids candy when they come knocking on your door.
Now, I’m here to talk about The Egg Hunt, an Easter story I wrote back in 2016 that’s now found a new home with JMS Books. There are no Easter witches in it I’m afraid. I’ll save that story for next year 😀
It’s about Tom who lives in a small town called Nortown. He is looking forward to a calm and quiet Easter on his own. Enter Jason, a rather obnoxious bartender from the city who after an incident with his dog need a place to stay.
EXCERPT FROM The Egg Hunt
“Have you seen a little dog?”
Cerulean blue eyes met his, and Tom read both fear and desperation there. His stomach clenched as he took in the guy’s features: a fashionable stubble, long dark eyelashes, and a refined nose. His skin held a warm tone matching his honey-coloured hair. Tom quickly looked away. He didn’t ogle guys, not this close to home.
“Nope, haven’t seen anyone all day.”
“Oh … Do you know how I can get back to the road?”
Tom put the chainsaw down and held out his hand to help the man up.
He slowly climbed to his feet. There were dark patches on the knees of his thin jeans from where he’d landed in the snow. Tom winced when a cold finger brushed against the inside of his wrist.
“Which road do you want to get back to?” They were almost as far from the main road as they were from the road leading into town, not to mention all the tiny little roads that snaked their way through the forest.
“Erm … the one leading into town?”
Tom peered at the sky; the sun would be setting soon. With a sigh, he started packing his things. The trees would have to wait. “My car is on the other side.” He pointed to the pine trees behind him and put the scabbard on the chainsaw blade.
“There’s a road?” The guy stared at the trees as if he would be able to see it now when he knew it was there.
“Yes, a small one.”
“Oh … Biscuit!”
Tom jumped as the guy’s voice echoed over the silent land. “Who are you calling?”
“My dog. He ran away.”
He? “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.” Dogs usually found their way home, and most of the snow had melted, so he’d probably be fine. Unless he went through the ice, of course, but he wouldn’t mention that to the guy.
“You think?” He straightened his back and looked Tom straight in the eyes, making Tom’s mouth go dry. He swallowed to lubricate it so he could speak.
“Absolutely. He’s probably already back at … wherever you’re staying. Come on, I’ll drive you to where you need to go.”
Tom led the way back to his van. Mud and slush had splashed all over the sides, and Tom had to clear all his papers and shit from the passenger seat for the man to sit. Then he hopped in and started the car. “I have to make a phone call, sorry.” Tom hated when people talked on the phone in the car, but he needed to tell Tris he was going home or Tris would come looking for him.
The signal went through. “Yeah?”
Tom cringed at the tone. “Is it a bad time?”
“Nah, it’s fine … it’s just … never mind. How’s it going?”
“I’m packing up. Had a visitor, so I’m heading home a little early.”
“You didn’t happen to see a dog, did you?”
Tom squinted at the bloke sitting next to him. “No, but I have a man here looking for one.”
“Oh, the idiot’s with you?” There was a sigh of relief on the other end.
Tom pursed his lips and looked at the guy again. “Maybe … lost, and looking for a dog named Biscuit?”
“That’s the one. If it wasn’t for Aiden, I’d say leave him, but could you please drive the moron to town?”
“To town?”
“Yeah, we’re at Jen’s.”
Tom smiled. This could be interesting, and he wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee. “Will do.”
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