My Christmas Spirit by K.C. Wells

I knew I had problems when I woke up in the middle of the night to find Mike Stubbins sitting at the foot of my bed, stark naked, still as gorgeous as every one of my memories of him.
So what’s the problem, I hear you cry? Gorgeous, naked man in my bedroom?
Well, there’s the not-so-small, highly significant detail that he died six years ago.

Yup. You read that right. And now he’s everywhere. I can’t even brush my teeth in peace. And did I mention that he never stops talking?

I’ve missed him like crazy, every day of the six years he’s been gone. And with Christmas coming, the memories are even more acute. But this is getting beyond a joke. Ignoring a naked guy is a pretty tough task, especially when I’m the only one who sees him.
So when he bops a complete stranger on the head with his dick in the middle of the coffee shop, I have to laugh. Anyone would, right?

Except… there’s a look on the guy’s face that tells me he felt that. But… how could he?
And now he’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to explain what just happened.

Either he’ll call for the guys with the straitjacket… or this will be one of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had….