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Snow blanketed the town of Fitzgaren in the County of Kerry in Ireland as the townsfolk settled inside out of the bitter chill.

They prepared for the coming holiday as most had done for generations, blissfully unaware of the potential for evil that hung near the town waiting for its next moment to strike.

Outside of town, in a manor that had been one of the first to be built upon the town’s founding, the Fitzgerald house was seeing the first signs of Christmas in fifteen years.

“Bloody morons, tracking mud, snow and who knows what else all through the foyer.” Deirdre O’Connor, the main driving force that ran the house, muttered under her breath as she dry mopped the very mess that she was complaining about.

“How else was Agnus and his sons expected to get the tree inside without the mess, Deirdre?”

Kerry Fitzgerald’s dry voice spoke from behind her as he walked from his office after deciding Deirdre’s temper had calmed down enough that it was safe to show his face.

The eldest of the five Fitzgerald brothers, Kerry still hated to admit that the smaller woman could still make him remember what it was like when he was younger and she had helped his mother with five unruly boys.

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