The Dollmaker's Daughter at Christmas

The Dollmaker's Daughter at Christmas

By:  Bella Moondragon  Completed
Language: English
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Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness... even a killer. Serendipity Fizzlestitch wants nothing more than to be left alone. In a small cabin a stone's throw from the house where her sisters and mother breathed their last, Serendipity toils away, making the dolls her late father was working on when he disappeared beneath the ocean waves. Serendipity is content to spend the rest of her existence here, trying to atone for the mistakes of her past by creating the dolls that bring joy to so many others. When a mysterious letter arrives in her fireplace, an unusual stranger shows up at her door, and her favorite mouse friend goes missing, Serendipity is forced to face the outside world--and the ghosts from her past. Will she accept the opportunity to join the most famous toymaker of all time, or will her guilt prevent her from finding the happiness everyone deserves? The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas is a whimsical romantic fantasy that proves everyone deserves a second chance, no matter how horrific our past. Perfect for Christmas, or any time of year, The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas will bring back the magic we can only find when we truly believe.

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50 Chapters
Serendipity Part 1
Marwolaeth Hall was an imposing structure with its steep roofline, ominous gables that numbered three, and the seemingly daunting sharpness of even its rounded turret that capped the bay window on the eastern side. It wasn’t necessarily the largest dwelling one might chance to come across in the moorland near the village of Dunsford, England, but it was certainly commanding enough to make one stop and consider the nature of those who would make such a place their home. Even in the daylight it seemed to whisper of treachery and consternation, and it was no wonder the original owners had given it such a fortuitous name.Serendipity Fizzlestitch had not called Marwolaeth her home for nearly eight years, choosing instead to occupy a much smaller, much less daunting cottage nearly twenty furlongs to the south of her original home, off in the woods where the trees blocked most of the view of the gothic structure. Not that she ever went out where she could potentially cat
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Serendipity Part 2
Several moments, perhaps half an hour, passed before Serendipity was satisfied with the smiling face, and she eventually sat the doll head down carefully on the roughly hewn wooden table that held her paints and turned her attention back toward the fireplace, certain that whatever wayward piece of postage had haphazardly found its way into her chimney would be long gone. But it wasn’t. It still sat there un-charred and unblemished atop the dancing flames, staring at her almost as intensely as the blank canvas she had just personified.Serendipity stood and stretched her back, noting that it no longer seemed quite as erect as it once was from so many hours of carefully examining her work, and crossed the few feet to the fireplace. Before she made a move to retrieve the stalwart article, she contemplated its existence a moment longer. Finally, taking the poker in her long, spindly, paint-stained fingers, she drew the envelope out of the flames, and it came to rest on
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The Doll Maker
“A merchant, who had three daughters, was once setting out upon a journey; but before he went he asked each daughter what gift he should bring back for her. The eldest wished for pearls; the second for jewels; but the third, who was called Lily, said, 'Dear Father, bring me a rose.' Now it was no easy task to find a rose, for it was the middle of winter; yet as she was his prettiest daughter, and was very fond of flowers, her father said he would try what he could do. So he kissed all three, and bid them goodbye.”“Papa! That merchant had three daughters, just as you have three daughters,” Serendipity laughed as sat upon her father’s knee, listening to his deep voice portray the tales of the Brothers Grimm in full spectrum.         “So he does,” Rudolph Fizzlestitch confirmed, absently rubbing his nose. “But I’m sure that his three daughters are not near
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The Letter
At first, Serendipity went about her business as she would any other time. After a short nap, she was always ready to dive right back into her work, picking up precisely wherever she had left off. Today should be no different: she picked up the dress, realized her needle was missing, and chose another one from a wide selection stuffed inconspicuously into a well-used pin cushion. She threaded the needle without looking on the first try, and settled down into her chair, training her mind on other things, anything, other than that letter that sat across the room from her. She decided to concentrate on the doll she was working on, number 1,452, or as she had nicknamed her, Lizzette Sassafras, thinking how smart she would look attending a cotillion in the pink lacy dress she was currently creating for her. Lizzette sat on the table near the head of number 1,468, the one she had been working on earlier, which she had chosen to name Hester Pineyfrock (her dress would be green, of cou
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Corey
The snow was coming down hard, the flakes small and sharp, more like ice droplets than the fluffy white puffs one usually thought of when considering this particular type of precipitation. But after a century or so of living in the Village, Cornelius Cane had grown immune to the cold and the various forms of solid water the clouds heaved down upon them. As he crunched along the well-decorated cobblestone street that led to his home, his mind only vaguely noticed the impeccably hung twinkling white lights that decorated each of the cottages, shop fronts, and various other buildings, their iridescence broken up only by the velvet bows and greenery interspersed every few feet. Here, Christmas decorations were not seasonal; they were part of everyday life, and while he did occasionally stop to marvel at their splendor, particularly when they had recently been changed out, after a while, like the snow, the decor became part of the background, an inconsequential part of his e
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Maevis Visits Part 1
Lizzette Sassafras was dressed in her finest holiday gown, complete with white bloomers and black boots, a stylish matching hat atop her blonde curly hair, ready to be wrapped up and shipped out to whichever sweet little girl had petitioned for her creation when Serendipity heard a slight knock at the door, followed by a rattling of the knob and the stomping of heavy boots against the mat that somewhat protected the rough wooden floor. She did not turn, not yet, as she was still admiring her work. Instead, she called over her shoulder, “Good morning, Maevis.”Maevis was satisfied with the dryness of her boots and she crossed the few steps to the table, dropping the heavy basket she carried in the only cleared off place as she replied, “Morning? Serendipity, it’s practically evening. It’s past five in the afternoon. Why don’t you open the curtains and let some light in here?”At the suggestion, Serendipity turned her head sharpl
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Maevis Visits Part 2
Maevis’s eyebrows grew together. “What of it?” she inquired, not sure what her charge was getting at.“Why can we not sell it? Keep this cottage and one of the others for you, let Ms. Crotlybloom go. Why must we keep that dreadful place? I shall never step foot in there again.”“Serendipity,” Maevis began, leaning forward, her hands on the table, “we can’t. That’s where all of the doll parts are kept. There’d be no way we could store them all here.”Nodding, Serendipity suddenly remembered it had not been that long ago that Maevis had asked to sell the last remaining warehouse. It had required making space in the hall for all of the fabric, hair, eyes, bisque heads, what remained of her father’s initial supply of paint--everything Serendipity used to assembly her art. “All of the money from the warehouses is gone then?” she confirmed.Maevis’s curls bounded up
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Maevis Visits Part 3
Maevis watched for a few moments as Serendipity worked at her craft table, laying out the hair for her next project and readying her tools. Clearly, she was not in the mood to talk today. Occasionally, when Maevis came to the cottage to visit, Serendipity would want to converse, but Maevis could never predict what circumstances would cause her to be chatty and what would prevent her from voicing whatever was on her mind. Maevis glanced around the room one last time, looking to see if there was anything else she could do to straighten the space. The lanterns were still full, since Serendipity rarely turned them on. Everything seemed to be in its place, and she was just about to turn to leave when something white caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Maevis noticed an object that shouldn’t be in the cottage and turned to look at the suspect item. “What’s that?” she asked, staring in the direction of Serendipity’s rocking chair.Serend
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A Visitor Part 1
It hadn’t taken long for Serendipity to get over her shock at Maevis’s departing words. She was certain that, even if Maevis had read the letter correctly, the information had to be incorrect, or else someone was playing a prank on her. She was quite certain that St. Nicholas was not trying to recruit her services. If there was such a person as Santa Claus in the first place, and she had stopped believing in him the year her father had passed away, there was little doubt in her mind that murderers could be on the Nice List, and why would St. Nicholas look to recruit a doll maker who wasn’t even on his list of those who deserved a gift?Serendipity had been extremely busy since the day the letter had arrived, not because of its existence, but because of the conversation she had carried out with Maevis that afternoon. The money was almost gone, which meant there would soon be no place for the dolls. She needed to finish them. At the rate she was going, it woul
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A Visitor Part 2
Corey could hear in her voice that she was no one to be trifled with--not that day anyway. He had been in similar situations before, though never with someone in their youth such as Ms. Fizzlestitch. Generally speaking, the younger the crafter, the more capable he or she was of believing in magic. This was particularly true when it came to young ladies. Nevertheless, Serendipity was beginning to challenge him, and while he was up for the challenge, he was not up for the rain; snow was one thing--rain was something else entirely. “Very well, then,” he replied. “Might I trouble you for a drink of water then?” he called, hoping that he would make more progress with her if he could meet her face to face. Then, she could look into his dazzling green eyes and fall captive to his mesmerizing gaze as so many young ladies had before her.Serendipity was puzzled. She had not expected him to give up so quickly, nor had she expected him to make any requests of her
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