Sue Perkins - Author

The Cracked Slipper

2013-05-22T03:30:00.000-04:00

The Cracked Slipper

by Stephanie Alexander

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

When Eleanor Brice unexpectedly wins the heart of Gregory Desmarais, Crown Prince of Cartheigh, she's sure she's found her happily-ever-after. Unfortunately, Prince Charming has a loose grip on his temper, a looser grip on his marriage vows, and a tight grip on the bottle.

Eight years of mistreatment, isolation and clandestine book learning hardly prepare Eleanor for life at Eclatant Palace, where women are seen, not heard. According to Eleanor's eavesdropping parrot, no one at court appreciates her unladylike tendency to voice her opinion. To make matters worse, her royal fiancé spends his last night of bachelorhood on a drunken whoring spree. Before the ink dries on her marriage proclamation Eleanor realizes that she loves her husband's best friend, former soldier Dorian Finley.

Eleanor can't resist Dorian's honesty, or his unusual admiration for her intelligence, and soon both are caught in a dangerous obsession. She drowns her confusion in charitable endeavors, but the people's love can't protect her from her feelings. When a magical crime endangers the bond between unicorns, dragons, and the royal family, a falsely accused Eleanor must clear her own name to save her life. The road toward vindication will force a choice between hard-won security and an impossible love.

The Cracked Slipper is a book club friendly fairytale retelling in the vein of Gregory Maguire, with a dash of romance. Set in a pseudo-renaissance, corset-and-petticoats enchanted kingdom, The Cracked Slipper brings a magical twist to women's fiction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT

The dragon stood and lumbered toward the first cave. It passed the other unicorns, slowing every few steps, and they responded with reassuring whinnies. The next dragon appeared, followed by two more of Tremor’s unicorn guides. The first dragon called to the second, who screamed once in return. Both creatures seemed eager to get underground.

The transfer continued for nearly an hour without much fanfare. Eleanor thought she must have miscounted when there was a break in the procession.

“This will be the last one,” said Gregory. “I wonder what’s taking so long.”

Tremor paced at the mouth of the cave. Dark smoke rolled from under the ground. Tremor sent two of his fellows down below, and when after a few minutes they did not return, Thromba called to him to send two more.

Without warning, and with an earsplitting scream, and a new dragon burst from the cave. Stubby horns revealed her as a doe.

“Ho!”Gregory yelled. “Nestlings!”

Three baby dragons, about the size of saddle horses, squealed and circled their mother’s feet. She screamed and shot fire at the wall of men and unicorns. The men fell back. The unicorns just shut their eyes. As Gregory steered Eleanor toward the cabin she caught a flash of white behind the dragon’s legs.

Teardrop had somehow been pushed from the line. She was pinned between the raging dragon and the canyon walls. As the dragon backed and reared, her massive tail, all wrathful muscle, swung in a deadly pendulum.

“Teardrop!”Eleanor screamed.

Teardrop zigged, looking for a way around the mother dragon. The dragon’s tail came down hard and clipped the mare across the shoulder. Teardrop slammed into the rock wall. She cowered, stunned and heaving.

“Teardrop!”Eleanor yanked free of Gregory’s grip.

“Eleanor, stop!”

She ran past the startled guards and into the chaos.

“Get back!” Tremor snorted.

“I won’t!” She yelled to be heard over the dragon. “I’m going to help her.”

“You can’t, and we must control this situation.”

“I will, damnit!” She tried to get around the stallion but he stepped in front of her again. “Get out of my way!” she stormed.

He lowered his head. “If you insist on this foolery at least let me help you.”

Gregory was shoving past the guards, but she climbed onto Tremor’s back before he could reach her.

“Eleanor!”Gregory screamed.

She clung to Tremor’s mane as he raced at the dragon. Her eyelashes stuck together in the blinding heat. Tremor dodged and wheeled as the dragon spit fire. Two other unicorns flanked them.

Tremor skidded to a stop. Eleanor leapt off and ran to Teardrop.

“Hurry!” Tremor called.

Foam dripped from Teardrop’s muzzle as she pressed against the wall. She wasn’t bleeding—her thick hide was nearly impenetrable—but a raised welt marred her shoulder. Her eyes rolled.

“Teardrop,”Eleanor tried to keep her voice calm over the screams of the dragon as it went after Tremor. “Help me. Take me back to Gregory.”

Teardrop swung her head at Eleanor’s voice. Her dark eyes came into focus. “Why are you here?” she whispered. “You will be killed.”

“So you must take me out.”

Teardrop nodded, and Eleanor grabbed her mane and pulled herself onto the mare’s back.“Go, now,” she called. “I need you to get me past this dragon.”

Teardrop scraped at the ground with one hoof and pricked her ears. She watched Tremor and his helpers and the mother dragon. She spotted an opening and dove for it. The dragon spun and swung her tail again. Eleanor held on as Teardrop leapt. They barely cleared the spinning spikes.

They came to a stop past the line of unicorns, and Eleanor’s legs gave out when she slid to the ground. Gregory caught her, cursing and kissing her.

“Dammit, Eleanor,” he said. “You’re the most stubborn, disobedient, brave, exasperating woman.”

She sat on the ground with her head between her knees. The magicians bustled around Teardrop. They tried to examine her injury, but she snorted them away. She stood over Eleanor, breathing down the back of her neck.

Eleanor raised her head as Tremor called a dozen of his fellows into the skirmish. The doe blew fire, but more unicorns pressed in and she backed down. Her children squeaked and smoked around her. Tremor stepped from the line and knelt on one knee. To Eleanor’s amazement one of the nestlings crept out from under its mother’s belly and slunk toward him. The doe hissed a warning. Tremor stood, and gently touched the baby dragon with his horn.

The doe exhaled a long blast of fire, but this time there was no fight in it. The other baby dragons came forward, and Tremor touched them all before nudging them toward the new cave with his muzzle. Their mother let our several low whistles and followed them.

Once the doe disappeared under the ground, Thromba ran to Eleanor and Gregory. “Dear HighGod, sire,” he said. “It was a botch-up, and the princess nearly roasted.”

“No, Thromba,” Gregory said. “We both know you can never tell how the does with nestlings will react. Last year we lost three men to a new mother. Not so bad, really.” He knelt beside Eleanor.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked.

“No,”he said. “How can I be angry? But you must be more careful.”

He helped her stand on her shaky legs. She ran a hand over Teardrop’s withers and the white hide twitched under her fingers. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Some, but we heal quickly.”

“Princess,”said an airy voice behind her. It was Tremor.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry if I made things more complicated.”

Tremor lowered his head. “I thank you,” he said. “For reminding me of what is important.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stephanie will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a
randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Stephanie Alexander grew up in the suburbs of Washington, DC, the oldest of three children. Drawing, writing stories, and harassing her parents for a pony consumed much of her childhood. After graduating from high school in 1995 she earned a Bachelor of Arts in Communications from the College of Charleston, South Carolina. She returned to Washington, DC, where she followed a long-time fascination with sociopolitical structures and women’s issues to a Master of Arts in Sociology from the American University. She spent several years as a Policy Associate at the International Center for Research on Women, a think-tank focused on women’s health and economic advancement.

Stephanie embraced full-time motherhood after the birth of the first of her three children in 2003. After six wonderful years buried in diapers and picture books she returned to her childhood passion and wrote her own fairytale. Her family put down permanent southern roots in Charleston in 2011. Stephanie is an adjunct professor of Sociology at the College of Charleston.

www.thecrackedslipper.com

blog.thecrackeslipper.com

www.facebook.com/thecrackedslipper

twitter: @crackedslipper

http://www.amazon.com/The-Cracked-Slipper-Series-ebook/dp/B007FLG8KS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1364778060&sr=1-1&keywords=the+cracked+slipper

Fantasy Favorites

2013-05-18T06:57:00.002-04:00

Okay I admit it. I absolutely adore reading fantasy novels. I've got all of Anne McCaffrey's fantasy books: Dragons of Pern, Generation Warriors, Doona novels, Pegasus and several other series. She is one of the best fantasy authors I've read and her son seems to be taking after her. Maybe he'll do a series of his own in the near future.

Then of course there's David Eddings. Again I have all his fantasy novels. These two authors are the people who set my course onto writing fantasy by their example. They both have depth and polish to their writing. So much so that I read their books again and again and find them hard to put down.

Other authors I've found over the years who have become favorites are Naomi Novik and Trudi Canavan. Both have taken a unique approach to their fantasy worlds and enthral me with their stories. Naomi Novik takes history and bends it to include dragons. Wonderful dragons (another of my favourites). Trudi Canavan's worlds have magic at the core of their society. This brings magicians into conflict with other magicians, creating magical wars. Wonderful!

The above are more for adults than young people, but I do read Paul Stewart's Edge Chronicles and Wyrmweald series. I find it's nice to read stories that don't have romantic elements in them. Brian Jacques Redwall Series is another favorite. Philip Reeve's Predator Cities and Larkspur series also caught my imagination, the latter I felt was ideal for Middle Grade readers.

I recently attended a workshop on world building given by Nalini Singh, a paranormal best selling author. I went along believing it would give me more insight into building my fantasy worlds, which indeed it did. However, I got more than I bargained for.

It had never occurred to me that every book that is written has it's own world built. Doesn't matter whether it's historical, romantic, fantasy, mystery or suspense. The world is the story and the story is the world. Both must be right for the book or short story to succeed. Thank you so much Nalini for showing me this. I will look at my novels in a completely different way now, plus I will re-read those old favorites with an eye to how they are so successful in their world building, not only of alternate planets but of their characters and societies.

So there you have it. The reason and the authors who pointed me in the direction of fantasy writing. If you haven't come across some of these authors and you love fantasy, then I highly recommend one and all of them. Enjoy!!!

Three Little Demons from Faizah's Destiny

2013-05-09T03:30:00.000-04:00

Three Little Demons

*** Leave a comment for a chance to win a free ecopy of “Faizah’s Destiny.” ***

Hi Sue: Thanks for inviting my flock (herd, bunch, gaggle) of demons to your blog. I hope they don’t leave a mess.

I use lots of Persian mythology in “Faizah's Destiny.” If you’d like to know more about the three boys and Faizah standing up to the gods and demons, you can read the book, or check my blog for a list of posts on different topics.

In researching the various gods and other legends of ancient Persian mythology, I found the three demons the war god Dev uses to tempt the teens to the dark side. My favorite source on all things mythical, the Encyclopedia Mythica, (http://www.pantheon.org/) came through with Aesma, Buyasta, and Nanghaithya.

Dev, like all gods of war in mythology, wants humans to fight. His ultimate purpose is to to usher in Armageddon. Why? Because war is his thing and wiping out all humankind is on his to-do list.

To that end, he sends three daevas (demons, if you will) to turn Faiza’s companions on the quest to the dark side (sort of a Darth Vader thing). Demons often represent a failing of humankind. We all have our demons, but Faizah’s three friends have demons visit them in more than just their thoughts.

Aesma

Aesma

Aesma is the demon of lust and anger, wrath and revenge. His wrath is mainly directed towards the cow (go figure). He is the personification of violence, a lover of conflict and war.

Aesma appears to Parvaiz in the form of a bear with a serpent’s tail. Parvaiz was a slave and has a mile-wide chip on his shoulder. Aesma fuels that anger and convinces the boy the others are his enemies, not his friends. Once sold on the idea, Parvaiz is told to wait for Dev to call him into battle. And, of course, keep his mouth shut about the little meeting.

Buyasta

An ancient Persian demon of laziness who tries to prevent people from working. He is one of the Daevas.

Dev sends Buyasta in the form of a giant spider to Bahaar, who has always dreamt of becoming a warrior. The demon takes advantage of that dream to make Bahaar fall asleep (laziness) and dream of himself as a mighty fighter in a huge battle. The good part: Bahaar is kicking major butt. The bad part: The butts he’s kicking are those of his best friends.

Nanghaithya

An archfiend. Nanghaithya is the personification of discontentment.

I really wonder how discontentment rates the rank of archfiend, but if you think about it, much of the worst harm comes from people not content in their lives. Nanghaithya has a little un-pep talk (he’s a voice-over character) with Harib claiming that his friends all laugh at him and only keep his company because his father is rich. The demon attempts to make Harib discontented with his relationship with the others. Harib, however, is having none of it. He’s the only of the three boys who stays true to Faizah.

This excerpt shows one of the confrontations between demon and boy. I’ve selected Harib and Nanghaithya because the scene is the shortest of the three.

Excerpt:

He heard the noise. A dry, rustling whisper of sound. At first, he thought it was the wind. Looking up, he could see nothing but blackness. The forest canopy was so thick overhead it blocked out the stars. Harib had never seen such big trees before, and he’d wondered idly what they might be. The thick, shaggy-barked trunks soared high into the gloom, unbroken by branch or leaf. Harib had noticed earlier that where the branches began, high above him, they had neither leaves nor fronds but instead were covered with clusters of thousands of thin needles. Would the wind blowing through those needles make the sound he heard? Don’t panic, he told himself. It’s only the wind; it can’t hurt me.

The sound faded and then grew louder. Now it sounded like faint laughter. “Great,” he said aloud. “Now, even the forest is laughing at me! First I fall over a cliff and have the others haul me to safety, and now I’m lost in the woods.”

As had happened so often lately, a dark sense of his own worthlessness washed over Harib. He angrily scrubbed away the tears stinging his eyes. How, he wondered, did the others put up with him? They said they were his friends, but why? He was small and weak and foolish. Bahaar was bigger and faster, and even Faizah was stronger than he. Smarter, too! All he had was his father’s money, and they didn’t even want that. Many times, he had tried to buy things for them, and every time, they spurned his offers. Still clutching his blanket-load of sticks, Harib plopped heavily to the ground and sat, head bowed, in the small clearing that held him trapped as surely as a prison cell.

The sound came again, louder. More laughter; then a voice, dry and rasping. “No wonder they laugh at you. Look at you. You’re pathetic.”

Harib’s head snapped up, but he could see nothing.

“You’re weak and slow. You can’t even get wood for the fire without getting lost.”

“I know!” Harib groaned. He put his face in his hands and whispered, “I know.”

“They make fun of you behind your back.”

“No!”

“They only put up with you because you’re rich.”

“That’s not true! They won’t accept my money,” Harib answered, willing that hateful voice to be wrong.

“They only wait for the right moment,” the voice persisted. “Then they’ll take it all and leave you behind.”

“Never! They wouldn’t! They’re my friends.”

The whispered voice chuckled, the words stabbing at Harib. “So you believe.”

“No!” Harib shouted, leaping to his feet. “No, you’re wrong! I don’t believe you! I won’t believe you.”

Looking wildly around, still trying to find the source of the voice, Harib spotted a small opening in the underbrush he’d missed before. Heedless of the branches whipping him, he lunged through, running away from the hurtful words as fast as the tangled brush would allow.

Perched upside down on the trunk of a tree, Nanghaithya, the demon of discontent, bared his fangs and hissed at Harib’s retreating figure. He had failed. Now he feared for his own life, for Dev did not easily forgive failure.

* * *

FAIZAH'S DESTINY

The gods are at war and only a farmer’s daughter can save the world from Armageddon.

MuseItUp (all ebook formats): http://tinyurl.com/faizahsdestiny

Also available at Amazon, B&N, Nook, and other on-line stores

Blurb:

The village magician has gone missing. His four pupils think he has left a clue to his whereabouts in the Magicalis Bestialis--the book of magical creatures. They must seek the help of the elusive Simurgh, the mythical birds who know all the secrets of the universe.

However, this is not an easy camping trip into the mountains. Spirits, gods, and demons confront the four friends, who are not aware they’re being set up by otherworldly forces for a much larger task.

A farmer’s daughter, Faizah is chosen to lead the humans in the battle. She must persuade a slave, an orphan, and a rich merchant’s son to join in the battle on the side of good. Although divided by Dev, the evil god of war, the teens must band together to find the Simurgh, rescue their teacher, and stave off Armageddon.

Bio:

Marva Dasef lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two ungrateful cats. Retired from thirty-five years in the software industry, she has now turned her energies to writing fiction and finds it a much more satisfying occupation. Marva has published more than forty stories in a number of on-line and print magazines, with several included in Best of anthologies. She has several published books, including six since 2011 with MuseItUp Publishing.

Website: https://sites.google.com/site/mdasefMarva/home

Blog: http://mgddasef.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/MarvaDasef

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/?tab=wX#107073845875601488093/posts

Twitter Handle: @Gurina

Book Trailers: http://www.youtube.com/user/MarvaDasef/videos

Boo's Bad Day

2013-05-06T03:30:00.000-04:00

Character Post for

BOO’S BAD DAY

By: Penny Lockwood

Picture book for children aged 18 months to 6 years

Published by 4RV Publishing

ISBN# 13: 978-0-9852661-5-8

4RV - http://www.4rvpublishingcatalog.com/penny-lockwood.php

$8.99 includes s/h

Look inside at Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Boos-Bad-Day-Penny-Lockwood/dp/0985266155/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Sue, thanks for hosting me. At the end of the tour, I will pick out one commenter’s name and send an autographed copy of Boo’s Bad Day to a United States address only. If the name I pick is someone who lives outside the U.S., I will send a PDF copy of the book. So remember, readers, be sure to leave contact information when you comment!

If your readers missed yesterday’s post, they can catch up at http://irenesroth.wordpress.com/.

Tomorrow, I’ll be visiting with http://1stTimeMums.com

Tagline:

Boo sneaks out of the house and discovers that freedom by himself can be scary.

Blurb:

Boo is a very bored kitten. When Timmy and his mom return home, Boo sneaks out of the house. Boo is frightened by the noises of the big world outside of the safety of his warm home. When Timmy coaxes Boo back into the house,

Boo realizes some places are safe and some are not.

****

Hi, my name is Boo, and I’m a teenager, cat that is, only about ten months old. I have black fur that is short and sleek. I don’t know why people think I’m a baby. I’m pretty independent. I can jump on counters by myself, and I always use my litter box. I eat all my crunchies, and I love it when Mom gives me juicy, wet food in my special bowl.

I love to play and chase things, especially when my boy Timmy is home. He throws my toys for me, and when I run after them, sometimes I slide on the wood floors, and he laughs. It makes me happy when he does that. Of course, there are times when Timmy and his mom have to go out. I don’t like that at all. I get so bored sitting there by myself. I try to entertain myself by playing with my toy mice and jingle balls. I’ve even pulled Mom’s yarn out of her knitting basket. She really doesn’t like that, but it’s fun to play with.

The other day Timmy and his mom were gone a really long time. I saw something white covering the ground outside the big window. I sat on the bench seat in front of the window and watched the other dogs and cats outside. They all looked like they were having way more fun than I was. It was so quiet in the house with no one home. I just knew I had to go out there and see what they were doing and what all that white stuff was.

When Timmy and Mom came home, I snuck out the door before they closed it. Boy was I surprised! That white stuff was so cold it hurt my paws. But since I was out there, I decided I should explore. I think my curiosity got the better of me, though, because before I took a few steps, I wanted to get back inside the house.

There were so many strange noises: metal scraping against rocks, barking dogs, blaring sirens. Oh, my. I just wanted to hide from all the strange sounds. They were so loud they hurt my ears. I didn’t know how to get back inside, so I all I could do was call for Timmy. The longer I was out in that cold white stuff, the more I knew I wouldn’t be bored if I was in the house. All I could think of was the hearth in front of my nice warm woodstove. Sometimes being bored is good.

Penny Lockwood has published more than 100 articles, 75 stories, a chapbook, and her stories have been included in two anthologies. She writes for both adults and children. Her fiction has appeared in numerous genre and children’s publications, and non‑fiction work has appeared in a variety of writing, parenting, and young adult print magazines and on line publications. She edits for MuseItUp Publishing. Visit her web site at http:// pennylockwoodehrenkranz.yolasite.com. Her writing blog is located at http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.blogspot.com/.

She has recently released Boo’s Bad Day with 4RV Publishing and has three other children’s books under contract with them: Ghost for Rent, Ghost for Lunch, and Many Colored Coats. She has three romances published by MuseItUp Publishing: Love Delivery, Lady in Waiting, and Mirror, Mirror. Her short story collection, A Past and A Future, is available through Sam’s Dot Publishing and Smashwords.

Social links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/penny.ehrenkranz

Twitter: @PennyEhrenkranz

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/pennyehrenkranz/

Website: http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.yolasite.com

Blog: http://pennylockwoodehrenkanz.blogspot.com

Boo's Bad Day - Review

2013-05-04T03:30:00.000-04:00

Boo's Bad Day

Title: Boo's Bad Day

Author: Penny Lockwood

Illustrator: Deborah C. Johnson

Publisher: 4RV Publishing

Pages: 32 pages

Genre: Children's book with pictures

This a wonderful story about Boo the kitten who sits by the window watching the bigger cats play in the snow outside. He wants to go and join them and his chance comes when his owner Timmy comes in the door. Unfortunately the outside world is not as wonderful as Boo expected it to be.

After reading this book I wished I knew children who were the right age to read it. I was fascinated by the story and illustrations, and believe it will catch and hold young children's attention. The author makes no attempt to humanize Boo. He acts and purrs like a kitten when he is happy, and meows loudly when he is frightened. His owners love him and he loves them. The only reason he got into trouble was because he was bored. Is there a message for young people there?

Well done and thank you Ms Lockwood for writing a gorgeous book. You also picked exactly the right illustrator for your story. Congratulations.

The Acadian Secret by Tammy Lowe

2013-04-24T03:30:00.000-04:00

Welcome Tammy, thank you for visiting today. You sound as if you have a very exciting life of exploring and experiencing new and wonderful places.

Tammy has given us a teaser of her new release The Acadian Secret. Hope you all enjoy it, I know I did.

Sue

Hi Sue,

Thanks for having me on your blog today.

I live in Cambridge, Ontario, with my husband of twenty years and our teenage son.

From September to June, I am surrounded by preschoolers and covered in glitter and glue.

Once school is out, I grab my hubby and our son and we are off on some grand adventure. We’ve explored pyramids in Egypt and sailed down a river in rural China on a tiny raft. We’ve slept in the tower of a 15th century Scottish castle, searched for the Loch Ness Monster and have even dined at a Bedouin camp in the Arabian Desert. I love to explore this amazing world of ours.

As a kid, I loved to read books and watch shows like Little House on the Prairie and Anne of Green Gables. I loved anything set in the “olden days”.

When I was about ten years old, I began to wonder about time travel. My biggest wish was that I’d end up back in the pioneer era. I wanted to go and hang out with spoiled Nellie Olsen. I don’t remember why I wished for Nellie over Laura Ingalls, but I think it had something to do with the fact that her parents owned the candy shop.

I had it all figured out. I didn’t want to live in the 18th or 19th century; I’d miss my family too much. And I can’t live without modern comforts. I wanted the freedom to travel back and forth through time.

So strong was my wish to time travel, I even dressed the part, as much as I could, without raising anyone’s suspicions. I wore dresses to school every day, when all my friends wore jeans and t-shirts. I had to be prepared just in case it worked and I was whisked through time. That summer, I even begged my mom to buy me a bonnet. She did. I wore that white bonnet everywhere. If I ended up in Walnut Grove or Avonlea, I was prepared.

By the sixth grade I was old enough to realize that time travel probably wasn’t going to be a reality for me, so I decided that when I grew up, I’d write a book about a girl who could travel back and forth through time.

THE ACADIAN SECRET is a Tween/YA Paranormal Action-Adventure about a young girl who can…time travel.

Elisabeth finds she can play in the past;

when bosom friends, treasure hunters and tormented alchemists are still the norm.

BACK COVER:

Elisabeth London is keeping her new friends a secret from her parents. Not only do they live on the other side of the world in the Scottish Highlands, they lived more than three hundred and fifty years ago. Her mom and dad would never allow her to go gallivanting about seventeenth century Scotland. They won’t even let her go to the mall by herself yet.

Twelve-year-old Elisabeth is old enough to know there is no such thing as magic, but when her quartz crystal necklace has the power to transport her back and forth in time, she no longer knows what to think. The only thing she is certain of is that she loves spending carefree days with Quinton, the mischievous nephew of a highland warrior, and sassy little Fiona, a farmer’s daughter.

However, Elisabeth’s adventures take a deadly turn when she is charged with witchcraft. At a time and place in history when witch-hunts were common, those found guilty were executed, children included. Elisabeth must race to find her way back home, while trying to stay one step ahead of the witch-hunter determined to see her burned at the stake

Excerpt:

As the afternoon sun began to travel behind the mountains, it cast an emerald glow across the glen. The valley was littered with boulders, while a small river twisted its way toward a distant forest.

Malcolm Craig was stalking his prey. He was a tall, strong man with piercing blue-green eyes, a short beard, and wild black hair that gave him a crazed look. He smelled the boar before he saw it. Talbot, his hunting dog, lunged into the brambles after the wild pig which began to grunt in anger. That was when something to the right caught his eye. A young girl lay motionless in the heather.

"What the devil?" Malcolm said as he jumped down from his horse. While still keeping his hearing attuned to Talbot and the boar, he walked over and bent to peer at her. He breathed a sigh of relief to find she was fast asleep. Malcolm scooped the sleeping girl into his arms. “You’re lucky I found you, lassie, before that beast did.”

With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest and put her arms around his neck. “Daddy…” she said in her sleep.

Malcolm laughed. “Daddy? I’m nae your daddy. No daughter of mine would be dressed like this, wandering around barefoot in the middle of…”

Elisabeth’s eyes popped open and she let out an ear-piercing scream. She bit Malcolm’s shoulder and he dropped her.

“Och, child! You bit me!”

The silence in the valley broke as Talbot howled, the boar squealed and Elisabeth jumped to her feet and wailed in horror.

"Dinnae move, lass!" Malcolm yelled to be heard over the pandemonium. He reached for his dagger. It was almost time for the kill.

The enraged boar deserted his hiding spot in the brambles and charged toward the dog, its lethal tusks ready to kill. Talbot was well-trained so, instead of turning tail and running, he danced backward, facing the pig, luring it away from his master. With the boar now in pursuit of the dog, Malcolm did what was natural to any man born and bred in the Highlands: he ran at the beast as if he were a wild animal himself. Jumping on the boar from behind, he grabbed its ear, yanked its head up and slashed its throat.

Elisabeth continued to scream. Malcolm jumped off the boar as it fell limp at his feet and cleaned the blade on the carcass before putting it away. He walked toward Elisabeth, his bloody hands held in front of him.

“Enough, lass. It's all right now.”

Her wide eyes fixed on the enormous man dressed in a skirt. “You’ve got a knife!”

“Aye. And a sword.” He smirked as he pointed to it.

“You’re armed!”

“I’m nae going to harm you, though. I was hunting.”

“Hunting what? Little girls? Where am I?”

Not waiting for an answer, she ran from Malcolm and toward the forest, her bare feet slowing her great escape.

“That lass is completely mad,” Malcolm grumbled while rubbing the shoulder she had bitten.

Malcolm mounted his horse; he couldn’t leave the terrified girl alone out here. It wasn’t safe and would soon be dark. She would be easy enough for a blind man to find again because she hadn’t stopped screaming. For some reason, he hadn’t stopped smiling.

His black warhorse was as large and intimidating as Malcolm was, and the animal’s powerful legs kicked up tall grass and thistles as it barreled along. The sound of its hooves seemed amplified as it raced toward Elisabeth. Malcolm caught up to her. Without needing to slow his horse, he reached down, scooped her up into his arms, and placed her in the saddle in front of him.

“There. Now be a good lass. I promise, I’m nae going to hurt you.”

And with that, Elisabeth fainted.

“Well now, that certainly makes things easier,” Malcolm muttered under his breath as he wrapped her in his plaid and nudged his horse on.

You can find me at www.tammylowe.com

Dragon Ice release

2013-04-21T04:54:00.001-04:00

Dragon Ice, the third of my Dragon series is now available on Desert Breeze Publishing.

Neisha and her people are trapped in the frozen north by silver dragons. In her dreams she is contacted by Tane who vows to come and help her people escape. She tries to dissuade him and Neisha is scared he will become trapped with her people. Tane refuses to accept there is nothing he can do and he and his friend set out to find Neisha's home.

Excerpt

Dragon Ice - Dragon Series 3

One cold afternoon, Neisha lay outside the main entrance watching the dragons fly across the plateau. Her father could be right. They did appear to search for new accommodation. Every now and again one would fly lower and investigate an opening in the cliff face big enough for them to enter. She noticed none of the caves opened on ground level.

Her grandmother's diary recounted the ancestors' investigations of these caves for a way to the outside world. They found them roomy, but dead-ended, and too high for humans to use. The dragons might access these caves and use them as lairs, but they would directly face the entrance to the human underground community. No doubt the beasts would physically object to their presence, and restrict the humans' access to the surface.

The sky darkened to black with the stars the only source of light. Neisha thought of the warmer season arriving in a few months. The men would go topside to hunt for fresh meat among the variety of wild animals on the plateau. Last year, the dragons seldom ventured in from the pass, but now the beasts hunted the same animals. This meant big problems for the humans.

The cold began to penetrate her furs and Neisha stood to return inside. A screech behind her made her spin around. A huge silver dragon flew toward her, mouth open wide. Steamy breath exploded from its gaping maw and became ice arrows. Neisha threw herself to the ground and crawled around the corner to the entry door. Once safe behind the rocky wall, she peeked back to the outside, only allowing her head to show.

The dragon swooped by the opening, blocking the light for a moment, and with a deep beat of its wings soared into the sky again. Neisha vowed to watch more carefully next time she came up to the surface, and she made sure to shut the wooden door firmly behind her.

Do you like to read?

2013-04-14T03:23:00.000-04:00

Reading is something everybody does every day. Texts, phone numbers, shopping lists, signs, newspapers, magazines and last but not least - books.
I'd like to know what attracts readers to a book - either print or ebook. Authors are readers too so if you're a writer feel free to leave a comment.
So what does attract you to a book? Not the genre - most readers head for the type of book they normally read, before drifting toward different styles. Not the author, again the reader's preference would be the first stop.
What do you look for when searching for a book? Does the cover drag you to look at the blurb? Does the blurb encourage you to delve further? Or does the title grab you first?
For me the cover comes first, the blurb comes second and the first page comes next. If any of these don't sit well with me then I don't buy. I have passed over a book because I don't like the cover, my own personal bad, it didn't mean the book was no good.
Even if the novel meets all of the criteria above, I can still be put off by the size of the type. Very small type such as the size found in Charles Dickens books tell my brain there's probably a lot of explanation and telling instead of showing, so again I don't buy.
I'd love to hear about your personal likes and dislikes when searching for something to read.
On the 19th April I will randomly draw the name of a commenter to win a copy of my latest book Dragon Ice which will be released on 21st April. Please leave a comment to be in to win.

Return by Charity Santiago

2013-04-04T03:30:00.000-04:00

Title: Return : Lady of Toryn - Book 1

Author: Charity Santiago

Pages: 301 pages

Rating: 4.5

Genre: Fantasy, adventure, sweet romance

The war to stop Lord Angelo destroying the sun has been over for three years. During this time Ashlyn, Elder Heir of Toryn, has gone walkabout and is presumed dead. Her reappearance drives the protectors of the Free Land Democracy to bring Devlyn, the new Lord of Toryn, under control. At first Ashlyn complies but doubts are sown in her mind by a captured Toryn ninja and from there on chaos follows Ashlyn wherever she goes.

The first thing that caught my attention was the name Ashlyn, Elder Heir of Toryn. This brought to mind a strong person and someone to be reckoned with. Ms Santiago brought her character to life in such a delightful but forceful way that I felt quite sorry for Ashlyn when things went so disastrously wrong. I sympathized with her when her companions all knew what was happening and she was left in the dark. No wonder she took her own route to resolve the danger threatening her people and the planet in general.

The more I delved into this book, the more hooked I became. The variety of vampire, spartans, warriors and ninjas plus a surprise element blended perfectly into a seamless adventure story with a hint of romance appearing as an underlying plot. In fact there are two or three sub-plots to this book which all help make it a perfect start to a series.

Adventure, fantasy, good writing and editing, all these make the book "Return" the type of book I love to curl up with and lose myself in. Well done Ms Santiago, I intend to follow this series. Thank you for giving me such an enjoyable few hours.

Charity Santiago

Tour of "Return"

2013-03-31T22:04:00.000-04:00

Drop by on the 4th to see my review of "Return" as Charity Santiago's review tour visits my blog.

Spirit Stealer Special Price

2013-02-16T03:30:00.000-05:00

My Middle Grade novel Spirit Stealer is set in a library and spans a century full of changes. Throughout the years the Spirit Stealer takes charge of the library at night, stealing the spirits of any who are foolish enough to remain in the library after dark.

For approximately one week from the 16th February, Spirit Stealer is available at the reduced price of $1.99 from

and also at a reduced price from Amazon.com

*****

Excerpt

Fader couldn’t help glancing toward the library during the day. The sun dropped low in the sky, and the crowds dispersed as he helped put the stalls away. Before slipping down the side alley, Fader checked to make sure no one watched him. The wad of paper worked well; the side door opened when he pulled the handle.
He hadn’t reached his hiding place when he heard a shout behind him. He looked quickly from side to side, desperate to find somewhere to hide. Two bookshelves stood against the wall. They didn’t quite butt up against each other, so he slid into the narrow space between them.
“What’s this?” Fader recognised the bull roaring tone of the man from the previous day. “Why is this door unlocked? Who stuck this paper in the lock? Get it out immediately and make sure the door is locked before you go home each night. We don’t want riff raff getting into the library.”
Fader’s heart sank.
The silly old fool’s found out how I got in. I’ll have to find another way, some place he won’t discover. He cheered up. I’ve got all night to work on that.
Fader spent the beginning of the night searching the building, looking for another way into the library. He searched the main entry and laughed as he sat in the Chief Librarian’s chair and twirled round.
I’ve got to find some way to get in. His gaze roamed the space before the front doors. Somewhere the pompous old fool wouldn’t even think to check.
Fader looked toward a small door on one side of the main desk.
Please let there be something to help me in here, he prayed as he opened the door.
The room held books neatly stacked on the floor and shelves. A bookcase hid the bottom half of a small window, but it only took a moment for Fader to fiddle with the catch. When he finished, it appeared to be locked, though it didn’t shut completely. He pulled the shelving further across until it hid the catch, but left enough room above for him to climb the shelves and slip out through the window.
The window entrance proved to be safer than the alley door. He didn’t have to worry someone might see him, or the window would be found and locked. He arrived after the library closed and left before it opened—too early and late for the librarians, lessening the chance of capture. Half his nights he spent reading and the other half sleeping. Weeks passed, and his nocturnal visits remained undiscovered. Fader began to think of the nighttime library as his very own place.
Then the noises started

*****

Would love for you take advantage of this special price.

Wind's Aria by Tessa Stockton

2013-02-11T01:19:00.001-05:00

Sue's Review

Wind's Aria is a battle between good and evil with love bridging the gap. Aria is the songstress who sings each morning and night to the Sacred Flower goddess. Her people believe this tribute keeps the evil at bay. Aria is distracted and falters in her song. All seems well until the following day when a fog shrouds the town and surrounding area. A winged man she names Il Bora, comes to her rescue and love begins to blossom, but evil has other ideas for the future.

This book has a whimsical beginning, but strengthens as the story unfolds. Aria appeared to be a young, naive woman, and Il Bora a troubled young man - or spirit. I wasn't quite sure of his identity. The book takes a few unexpected turns which kept my interest at its peak. Definitely a book that left me with a satisfied, pleasant feeling.

*****

Wind's Aria - Excerpt

Wind's Aria

Fog continued to dance around them covering most of his body, to her dismay. Just curious, she convinced herself. She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose to concentrate . . . something that seemed hard to do at that moment.

“Feeling better?” The smooth notes of his words swam through her ears.

“Mmm.” She nodded. “I guess.”

He continued to stare.

Aria cleared her throat. “Um . . . can I ask you a question?”

“You may ask . . .”

“But will you answer?”

“That depends.”

“Oh. Well. How did you get to be so huge when all the Meleyans are rather small? And why haven’t I seen you before?”

“That’s two questions.”

“S-sorry.”

He exhaled a steady stream of air, adding to the mist, as if deliberating.

Aria felt the strength of his breath, blowing strands of her hair across her face.

Slow, yet with precision, he lifted a lock from the curve of her mouth and rubbed the strands between his fingers. He murmured, “Soft and orange, like the petals of prairie-tails.” Then he bent and smelled her hair, closing his eyes. “And sweet like the honey of bees.” Again he held her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Do you have a sting?”

“I asked you a question first—”

“Two,” he corrected. Then he smiled.

****

Tessa Stockton - Bio:

A veteran of the performing arts and worldwide missions, Tessa Stockton also contributed as a writer/editor for ministry publications, ghostwriter for political content, and she headed a column on the topic of forgiveness. Today she writes romance and intrigue novels in a variety of genres. In addition to her fantasy romance, WIND’S ARIA, she’s the author of suspense/thriller, THE UNSPEAKABLE, political intrigue/romance, THE UNFORGIVABLE, and a literary short story, LOVE AND LULL, with more in the works.

Tessa will be awarding a $50 Amazon Gift Certificate to a randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her book blast tour.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chance of winning. The tour dates are:

February 11: Maggie's Meanderings

February 12: Sue Perkins, Author

February 14: Long and Short Reviews

February 15: Let's Get BOOKED

February 18: Journey of a Bookseller

February 19: It's Raining Books

February 20: Love Triumphs Past and Present

February 21: The Write to Read

February 21: STOP 2 - The Eclectic Review

February 22: Margay Leah Justice

Links:

www.TessaStockton.com

https://twitter.com/TessaStockton

https://www.facebook.com/tessastockton

Purchase links:

Publisher's Bookstore: http://www.soulmatepublishing.com/winds-aria/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Winds-Aria-ebook/dp/B00B1FEC2A/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358431989&sr=1-4&keywords=tessa+stockton

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/winds-aria-tessa-stockton/1114146612?ean=2940016000206

Recipe for Romance - Available Now

2013-01-04T20:20:00.000-05:00

RECIPE FOR ROMANCE RELEASED

Recipe for Romance has been released and is available from Desert Breeze Publishing.

The new hotel manager upsets Kirsty from day one. Reeve's high handed attitude makes her wonder if the accidents in the kitchen really are her fault. With the head chef on one side and Reeve Stuart on the other she feels as if she's being torn in two different directions.

Both Kirsty and Reeve feel a growing attraction for each other, but decide to put their feelings aside until the restaurant problem is resolved. Kirsty knows it is time to take action when the attacks on her ability become personal. How can she prove she is not to blame?

Recipe for Romance is a contemporary romance set in the beautiful scenery of New Zealand. Although a sweet romance, the attraction between the Kirsty and Reeve sizzles with tension.

Christmas Story - Part 14 - Final

2012-12-24T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Fourteen is the final part and is written by Heather Haven.

Website: http://www.heatherhavenstories.com

Blog: http://heatherhavensays.blogspot.co.nz

“We need to turn the sleigh around, son. Heather is dealing with the Dark Lord. We can’t be there. If she wins, she will come to us. Meanwhile, the most important thing is to keep Madison safe. He mustn’t get her.”

Santa signaled the reindeer to return to the North Pole.

“I don’t understand,” Sean said. “Why can’t we go to Heather?”

“I want to be with mom. We need to help her.” Madison’s voice broke on her final words and she began to sob.

“I know, I know. But we can’t risk it.” Santa landed the sleigh and stepped out. Sean and Madison followed him back into Santa’s Workshop. Santa knelt in front of his granddaughter, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“You see, my dear, everything depends on you. I’m Christmas past. Your father is Christmas present. But you are the most important. You are Christmas future.”

She stopped sobbing and looked up at Santa. “I am?”

“Yes. Only you have the power to control the future of Christmas. I’ve done my best, but the Dark Lord has cast his shadow over children everywhere. More and more are turning away from me, not believing what their own hearts tell them.”

“What’s that?” she stuttered.

His fingers brushed away a lock of golden hair from her forehead. “That the power of Christmas lies not in me, but in each one of them. I only represent what is good in the world. The spirit of giving, compassion, hope, and love burns within each one of them. Children are Christmas. Sadly, so many have stopped believing in this wondrous day, it’s in jeopardy of going away forever.”

Madison gasped; her eyes wide with fear. “You mean, there might not be any more Christmas?”

Santa didn’t reply, but shook his head slowly. Then he looked up, as if he saw something inside his mind. “Your mother has arrived. She’s won.” Santa turned to mammoth twenty-foot high double doors, decorated with candy canes, lollypops and gingerbread cookies. He took Madison’s hand but before they could take one step, the doors burst open and Heather ran in, followed by Gibb.

“Madison!”

“Mom!”

Heather ran forward and knelt down, embracing her daughter tightly.

“I was so worried about you,” Heather said.

“We were worried about you, darling.” Sean took a hesitant step forward. “But you look all right. In fact, you look beautiful.”

“Sean!” Heather stood and rushed into Sean’s arms. Madison followed and wrapped her arms around both parents, hugging them as hard as she could. Heather broke free in a flash of anger and pushed her husband away.

“Where have you been? It’s been a month.”

“That’s my fault, I fear,” Santa said, coming up to her. “At this time of year, I do tend to lose track of time. Except Christmas Eve. Can’t lose track of that!”

“Heather,” Sean said with a gulp. “Meet my father, Santa Claus.”

“And don’t forget me, son.” A short, rotund woman dressed in red and green came through a small door on the other side of the room.

“I am Mrs. Claus, but I’m hoping you’ll call me Mom, Heather.” Mrs. Claus bent down to Madison. “And you can call me grandma, my pet. Come and give me a big hug.”

She opened her arms wide and without hesitation, Madison threw herself into them. After a moment, her grandmother straightened up and looked at Santa.

“And you, Mister Claus,” she said, with her hands on her hips. “You need to take care of this right now. The Dark Lord is gone, but that’s solved only half the problem. Do you have the locket?”

“I’m in big trouble when she calls me ‘Mr. Claus’,” commented Santa to the young couple. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glittering gold locket dangling from a chain.

“Here it is, Madison. Only for you, the first granddaughter in each generation of Santa Claus’s.”

As Santa fastened the necklace around the little girl’s neck, her eyes lit up. “Why, granddad, I can see into every single boy and girl’s heart throughout the world.”

“I knew it!” Mrs. Claus nodded. “The power is always in the Claus women. Clasp the locket in your hand, Madison, and whisper to each wee one to hold Christmas forever close to them.”

Eyes shut tight and grasping the locket in small fingers, Madison nodded, silent words forming on her lips.

“I can feel it.” Santa said, a big grin covering his face. “I can feel the power of Christmas becoming stronger and stronger. My goodness!” He studied Madison’s concentrating form. “Why, she’s nearly through all of Sweden! She’ll be done in less than an hour.” Santa walked over to Heather, took her hand in his, and kissed it.

“Forgive an old man, my dear, for taking your husband away like that. I was desperate. I thought Sean had the power, but try as he would, it wasn’t him. It was Madison. Now that Christmas has been saved, I have lots of presents to deliver. I must fly.”

He hoisted a large bag of toys on his back and turned back. “When I return in the morning, I hope you’ll still be here. We can have a hot cup of Gibb’s Glůgenćaden cider and get to know one another better over Christmas dinner.”

“We’ll be here,” Everyone shouted in chorus.

“Gibb,” Santa bellowed, “to the sleigh!”

“Granddad!” Madison called out, stopping Santa in his tracks. “There’s another voice I can hear above the rest, strong and clear. He says ‘Remember the true meaning of Christmas; the child.’”

“I will always remember,” Santa murmured, glancing up to the heavens. “For he was and is the greatest gift of all.”

Santa winked at his granddaughter. “Merry Christmas, Madison.”

“Merry Christmas, Santa.”

Christmas Story - Part 13

2012-12-23T04:27:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Thirteen is brought to us byJenny Twist

Website: https://sites.google.com/site/jennytwistauthor/

Goodreads Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4848320.Jenny_Twist/blog

Heather emerged from the tunnel, still shaken by the confrontation with her father, but also feeling oddly elated. She had burned her boats now. There was no going back.
“Maddy,” he said, squatting down before her, so that his face was level with hers, “this is what you need to know. Your other grandfather is of the dark. He is the Dark Lord, the Spirit of Winter and without us, without Christmas, winter would hold the land in its grip all year round. The balance between light and dark has been lost and only you can restore it, but it is much easier than you think. Light will always banish darkness. All you have to do is be all light. You have to think of all the wonderful things that have happened to you. All the happy times. All the love in the world. Gather it up and hold it in your heart, then when you meet your other grandfather, he will be dazzled by you. Now, think, child. Tell me of the things that give you joy.”
“Oh, I think it will work now,” he said. “Just look at you, child.”
Maddy looked down at herself. She was surrounded by a golden glow. Light was streaming out of her and lighting the faces of her Dad and Santa. This is what they mean, she thought, when they say your face lights up with joy.

Ever since Sean disappeared she had been oppressed by a dreadful fear that she dare not even allow herself to examine. Now she was liberated. Whatever else had happened to Sean and Maddy, at least they had not been captured, or worse, by her father. They were in the world somewhere and she meant to call them home.
Her lips set in a tight line, she began her preparations. First she switched on every light in the house. Then she collected every candle, lantern, oil lamp and torch she could find, going through all the rooms, looking on all the shelves and searching through all the drawers. She would light a light that her family could not ignore. The warmth and happiness would shine forth from her house and find them, wherever they were.
Now she built up the fire to a fierce blaze and began to arrange the candles and lamps all around her on the floor and shelves and tables.

****

Santa Claus looked down at his granddaughter. She seemed very small and frail - far too young to take on such a task.
Maddy looked back at Santa Claus and thought how joyful she would have been to discover he was her grandfather if it hadn’t been for all the dreadful things he had said. She tried to do what he wanted, but she couldn’t think of nice things because she was so afraid for her Mom and so terrified of the Dark Lord that she felt trapped and numb.
“Look!” Sean was pointing at the map. “Look at the house!”
The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, better than a Christmas tree. Light was shining out from it in a great golden stream.
“It’s Heather,” Santa Claus said. “She is calling us. She has chosen.”
Maddy looked at the house and the tight lump in her chest loosened. Her Mom was there, calling for her, calling her home. And all the happy memories came crowding in, filling her with delight. She turned and smiled at Sean.
“She’s OK, Dad. Mom wants us. She’s calling. Let’s go.”
Santa struggled to his feet. “I’ll take you in the sleigh,” he said.
Maddy looked at him, round-eyed. “I thought the sleigh wasn’t working,”
“OK, Granddad,” she said. “Let’s go!”

The sleigh was parked outside and she could see it was different, brighter somehow. The reindeer tossed their heads and stamped their hooves, eager to go. Maddy clapped her hands. “Hurrah!” she cried, and both Sean and Santa Claus burst out laughing. The sleigh glowed brighter than before.
“Here we go!” Santa grabbed the reins and there was a sharp ching! as he gave them a shake. Smoothly and majestically, the sleigh rose into the air and Maddy gasped with delight as she saw the land spread out beneath. As they passed over the houses, the lights came on, leaving a jewelled wake behind the sleigh.
“Coming, Mom,” Maddy shouted, her cheeks rosy in the frosty air.

****

Heather lit the last candle and turned around to see the effect of all the lights. Then she closed her eyes and sent an urgent message into the night. Come home! she called. Come home, Sean. Come home, Maddy!

Suddenly there was a fearsome crack and all the lights went out, leaving only the guttering candles and the glow of the fire. There, in the doorway to the tunnel, stood the dark figure of her father!

Christmas Story - Part 12

2012-12-22T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Twelve is brought to us by Sue Perkins

Web: http://www.sueperkinsauthor.com

Blog: http://sueperkinsauthor.blogspot.com

Tears sparkled in Madison's eyes as she looked at her grandfather. "How are Mom and Dad going to be honest with one another if you won't let them be together?"

"Good point Maddy," Sean looked at his father. "Let's get this straight. A darkness is attacking Christmas. From what I saw Heather and I are on opposite sides, both of us keeping secrets from each other. You say only Maddy can save Christmas, presumably by bringing both sides together. Is that right."

"More or less." Santa looked at Madison, sadness in his eyes. "Do you think you can be brave enough to help us, Madison?"

Maddy gulped as she looked up into Santa's eyes. "I'll try. What do I have to do?"

"Dad..."

"Quiet Sean. Madison, you saw your mother bring the darkness back to your house. She's fighting the darkness, but it's hard for her. Your Dad and I come from the light family and your mother's family is the dark. Only one can win. If the darkness wins there will be no more Christmas."

"My mom is not dark. She's nice and kind and loves me and my dad. Mom is not the dark." Maddy stamped her foot, hands on hips as she glared at her grandfather.

"In darkness there is always a spark of light. Your mom is the spark. As the child of both sides, only you can save Christmas. Without Christmas the world will fall into gloom and despair." Santa looked at her. "You need to fight for what you believe. Will you do this?"

"I don't have to fight my mom?" Maddy's eyes grew big and round.

"I don't think so, she seems to have chosen the light."

"So what do I have to do?"

Nobody spoke for a few moments. Madison looked from her father to Santa, and when the silence lengthened tears sprang to her eyes.

"I don't like this. I want everything to go back to as it was before my Dad disappeared. Make all the nasty stuff go away, please." She flung herself into her father's arms and sobbed. Sean smoothed her hair, trying to calm her.

"What is the darkness, Dad. Why haven't I heard of it before?" Sean looked at his father over the top of Madison's head.

"As long as there is light, there is also darkness. Until now the dark has kept a distance but the feud has been going since the beginning of time. The closest it came was when you and Heather married. Darkness and light clash every couple of centuries and the fight for dominance begins. I knew this time would come when Madison was born." Santa shook his head. "I did think we'd have a bit more time."

"So what does Maddy have to do?" Sean stood his daughter between his legs and mopped her face dry.

Santa sat down beside Sean and leaned over to take Madison's hands in his.

"Madison, do you truly believe in Christmas?"

The girl nodded solemnly.

"I'm your grandfather, but your mother's father is your other grandfather. You have to convince him Christmas must continue or all the joy will leave the world. Everyone will be unhappy, nothing will get done and the world will die. Do you think you can convince him?"

"Will my Mom and Dad be with me?"

"No, sweetheart. I'm afraid you will have to do this on your own."

"If you think I'm going to let you send Madison into that darkness on her own..."

"Sean, I don't like it any more than you do, but you and Heather have your own job to do. You have to be honest with one another and decide which side you're going to be on."

"It goes without saying. The light of course." Sean looked grim.

"And if your wife decides to stay with the darkness of her family? What will you do then?"

"I'm still not letting my daughter deal with the monster of the dark."

Sean stared stubbornly at Santa. Madison looked up at her father then across to her grandfather.

"Please don't fight." Her voice shook as turned to stand in front of her grandfather. "Tell me what I have to do."

Christmas Story - Part 11

2012-12-21T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Eleven is brought to us by Chris Weigand

Blog: http://www.weigandchris.com

Heather felt a tug on her necklace. It pulled her down a dark tunnel. She took a deep breath and tried to quiet her racing heart. Finding Sean and Maddie had to be her only thoughts. She didn’t have the time or energy to be afraid.

She suspected this had something to do with Sean’s secret. Not that he had ever told her there was a secret, but she had secrets of her own that went back to when they first met.

Why she hadn’t told him, she didn’t know, but it made no difference now. The secrets finally caught up to them and dragged Madison down with them. Yes, she knew what she had to do. She needed to find her father, needed to end the blackness. Madison wasn’t prepared to battle the blackness her secret created. How could she convince her father to put an end to this feud and forgive her for running away with Sean?

She stepped out of the tunnel into a darkened room. A large picture window stood across from her, framing a tall, broad-shouldered man, her father.

“I’ve been expecting you.”

“Why now, Father.”

“Because, the time has come for you to take your place in the family.”

“What about Sean and Madison? They’re family too.”

“That man you married in defiance of me can never be one of the family. He isn’t worthy. And your daughter, there may be some hope for her if we get her away from his influence.”

“That will never happen. We are a family.”

“Then you leave me no choice. They must be eliminated, so you can assume your place.”

“How can you be so cold? She’s your granddaughter, your blood.”

Her father stepped toward her. “She also has his blood. If that cannot be overcome then it must be destroyed.”

“That is not something I can accept. I love them.”

“That has always been your weakness. I had hoped by now you would have outgrown that, but I can see you haven’t.”

Heather turned back to the tunnel. “I won’t let you destroy them.” She thought of the photograph laying on the floor and the presents under the tree. “And I won’t do as you say.” Heather stepped into the tunnel.

“Walk through that tunnel and you are no longer welcome in this family.”

“That’s fine with me. If you cannot accept my family, then I want no part of you and your black legacy.”

Heather removed the necklace, dropped it and stomped on it crushing it under the heel of her boot. Her father screamed as if in pain and a flash of light filled the room.

She closed her eyes to block the brightness. When she opened them she was back in her living room, her father’s screams still echoing in her ears.

****

Madison looked up from the map. “Dad, why is it darker over our house? Who was that man Mom was talking too.”

Sean kneeled down and hugged his daughter. “I don’t know baby.” He looked imploringly at his father.

Santa shook his head. “Like you Heather has secrets and until you can be honest with each other, there is no hope you can save Christmas and the world.”

Christmas Story - Part 10

2012-12-20T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Ten is brought to us by Tasarla Romaney

Blog: www.tasarlaromaney.wordpress.com

Heather stood in Madison’s bedroom. The silence so thick and dense, she would have sworn it was a living creature. In less than two months her entire life had shattered into millions of tiny fragments. She moved closer to Madison’s bed. Her daughter should be snuggled under the fuzzy pink blanket dreaming of what presents would be waiting for her in the morning.

First, Sean had disappeared and now their daughter. The sheriff had hinted that Sean could be responsible. Tears burned her cheeks as she crumbled to the floor. He could never hurt her like this. The silence gave away to her cries of sorrow and despair. A thick cloud of darkness swallowed her, feeding off her.

Opening her eyes, she saw a faint glimmer under Madison’s bed. She crawled across the floor and reached for the object. It was a picture of Madison, Sean and her. The silver frame had the words, love across the top and believe along the bottom.

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. The picture had been taken last year. They had just finished building a snow family so their noses and cheeks were red from the cold. They had spent the rest of the afternoon playing Uno. Madison had won the most games.

She ran a finger over the raised letters and a tingling warmth travelled up her arm. She smiled and stood. There was no doubt she loved, now she needed to believe. Determination guided her as she walked into her bedroom. Gathering Madison’s presents, she carried them into the living room. She plugged in the Christmas tree and the dark room was flooded with blue lights.

Carefully, she arranged the packages. Penguins danced across one gift. Snowmen sang on another. And reindeer decorated the last one. Heather sat the picture on the snowman covered present and went over to the couch. Curling up on sofa, she pulled a plush blanket over her.

“Okay, Santa, I love them. Now I’m believing in you to return to them to me.”

*****

“What…” Sean’s voice trailed off as his father and daughter’s eyes glared at him. “Look.” He pointed to the map. The place of the darkest shadow of despair now had a light shining through it.

And it came from his house. Heather. It was Heather. Heather had the magic of true hope.

“I told you she was for me.” He walked over and scooped Madison into his arms. “Let’s go get mommy and save Christmas.”

“Not so fast,” Santa interjected. “Despair still blankets most of the world.”

Sean nodded. “Once we return home and Heather tells everyone how Santa delivered her husband and daughter to her the belief in miracles will again spread across the world.”

Santa shook his head. Sean had seen that look in his father’s face before. What hadn’t Santa told them?

“It’s Madison who will defeat the shadows of despair,” Santa stood. “She’s the one with the gift to spark belief.”

“She may.” Sean started to walk away. “But she inherited it from her mother.” Before his father could voice anymore objections, he left the room.

“Is mommy really beating the shadow monsters?” Madison looked up at him. Her eyes conveyed hope, love, and happiness. The same as her mother’s.

“Gibb, ready the sleigh. Tonight’s deliver will be made by me, my daughter and my wife.”

“I refuse to allow you to go,” Santa’s deep voice rumbled from behind him. “It’s too dangerous.”

Christmas Story - Part 9

2012-12-19T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written previously. Part Eight is brought to us by Tina Pinson.

Website: http://www.tinapinson.com

Blog: http://www.tinapinson.blogspot.com

"Grandpa Nick? Santa?" She spun to the white-bearded man peeling off his brown coveralls, uncovering a white shirt with black suspenders and a red pants. She thought he was just a mechanic named Claus. Was he her Grandpa? She watched with such bug-eyed confusion she saw three of him smiling back at her. She blinked. This couldn't be the real Santa? She whipped her gaze back to her father. "Santa is my grandpa?"
Her father nodded.
She tugged the arm of Christmas pajamas. "But my name is Clausinsky?"
Her father reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Long for Claus."
With a shake of her head, and a quirk of her lips, Madison turned to study the grandpa in question. He pulled on a red coat with a furry, white collar and fastened a black belt around his ample tummy. She lay her finger beside of her nose. Her father's name was Nickolas. Only he didn’t look much like this rosy, cheeked man. But who could really tell behind all them whiskers? There was something in the eyes. And daddy surely wouldn't lie. "Am I a jolly ol' elf too?"
Santa's beard opened with his laugh then settled around his wide grin. His bushy white brows arched above his dancing eyes. "No, sweetheart. There are many elves here at the North Pole, but the Claus's are human."
Human. She held her frown as visions of happy Christmas colored clothes and shoes and hats with bells faded from her mind.
"Madison… Madison Hope Klausinsky? Please, if you can hear me…"
"Mom?" Madison's gaze hit all points of the room expecting to find her mother in the garage. She was still alone with her daddy, her grandpa Santa, and Gibb. Did they go get her and bring her to the North Pole? Maybe she just couldn’t see her.
She looked up at her dad. "I just heard mommy. Is she here too?"
Her father's smile wasn't quite as bright as his hand lowered from her shoulder. "No."
Her shoulders slumped. "Mommy sounded scared. We need to go home." She started for the door. Her father caught her hand in his and pulled her gently to him.
"We can't go home yet."
She laid her head against his soft Christmas sweater. "But mommy is… she--"
"Hush, Madison, it will be okay." Her father caressed her shoulder. "We'll go home soon. But first, we have work to do."
Madison's lips puckered. Gibbs told her she had magic, but she didn't feel the magic inside, she just wanted to go home.
"Madison… oh, Madison… Oh God, please let her be okay." Her mommy sobbed now.
"Mommy needs me."
Her father let her go. She eyed the door, thought to run, but didn’t know where to go.
"Here, Madison," Santa called her name softly calming her fear. "Come and look."
Madison turned. Grandpa Santa held out his hand, a snow globe appeared in his palm.
She clung to her father, afraid to move.
"It's okay, honey." He patted her back softly. "Take a look."
Slippers sliding on the floor, Madison took hesitant steps toward the snow globe. There she saw her mother sitting on the front step in the snow. A flashlight's beam encased her booted-feet.
"She's been looking for you," her father said coming to stand behind her.
I'm here, mommy. Madison put her fingers to the glass. Tears stung her eyes. "I can't come home though."
"No, darling," her father whispered. "The same thing that's kept me away, now holds you too. We have to stop it so we can go home."
"But…" She blinked her tears. "What is holding us?"
Santa shook the globe slightly. Madison held her tears as the scene changed and her mother disappeared. The earth and the sky above it settled into view when the snow of globe stopped swirling.
"Do you see the darker shadows of the night?" Grandpa Santa asked.
Madison squinted. It all looked like night to her. Then she saw the difference. Saw the black inkiness beyond the silent starry night. The closer she looked the darker it became. She shivered. "What is that?"
"That is the growing despair of Christmas," Santa said.
"Where does it come from?" Madison asked.
"Hmm. That's a good question." Her daddy said and pulled her up into his arms.

Christmas Story - Part 8

2012-12-18T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously. Part Eight is brought to us by Nancy M. Bell.

Website: http://www.nancymbell.ca

Madison nodded at Santa and then she noticed the man standing behind him. It couldn’t be…could it? Joy leaped in her heart and brought tears of happiness and relief to her eyes. It really didn’t matter how or why, only that he was here and safe!

“Daddy! Daddy!” She raced across the toy strewn floor and threw herself into his outstretched arms. “It’s me, Maddy! Where have you been? Mommy is worried sick over you.” Her words tumbled out in a jumble and she buried her face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave.

“Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing here? How did you even manage to get here?” Dad unwound her arms from around his neck and sat down at a nearby table with her on his knee, just like when she was little.

“It’s all kind of weird, Dad. I found Gibb in my closet and then we went spinning like crazy and ended up with a roomful of elves, well I think they were elves, and then he brought me here. Why are you here, Daddy? Mommy misses you so much, and so do I. Am I dreaming you…and all this?” Madison’s eyes started to fill with tears and her lip trembled. What if she wasn’t really here with Daddy, but really sleeping in her own bed trying not to hear Mommy crying in the next room?

“No, princess, I’m real and I’m glad it was Gibb who brought you. I’ve known Gibb for a very long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” Dad kissed her forehead and wiped away the single tear that hovered on her lash.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about him, Gibb I mean? And why are you here?” Madison persisted. She just couldn’t understand why Daddy was here, wherever here was.

Santa sat down across the table from them and coughed and Madison tore her gaze from her dad to look at him. Merry blue eyes twinkled at her from beneath bushy white eyebrows that sort of lost themselves in the long curling white hair which blended with the thick beard that covered the lower part of the man’s face. A thousand questions skittered around in her brain but she couldn’t find the words to get any of them out of her mouth. Finally, she looked back at her dad who smiled encouragingly at her.

“How do you know Santa?” she managed to squeak out, turning her attention back to the heavy set man across from her.

Santa’s laughter boomed so loud the delicate blown glass ornaments on the tree tinkled and shivered. Madison squealed in delight. No department store Santa ever sounded that happy or welcoming. It really was Santa, sitting right in front of her.

“I’ve known Santa all my life, Madison.” He forestalled her questions with a raised hand and a wink. “Mommy doesn’t know about it, but I suppose we’ll have to explain things when we get home later today. You’re here because it was time you met Santa and discovered your heritage,” Daddy explained.

“What do you mean…my…heritage?” She wrinkled her forehead in thought. It sounded like an important word but she really wasn’t sure what it meant.

“Heritage is…well…your family history, sort of. Like you inherit your hair colour and eye colour from your ancestors, your parents and their parents before them. Do you understand so far?” Daddy paused and waited for her to answer.

Madison nodded and waited for him to continue.

“Sometimes, you also inherit certain duties or jobs that are family obligations, passed down from one generation to the next. You, my darling daughter, have a very special heritage,” he explained. “And you also have a very special ability, a magical ability that only you possess. No one else in all the world can do what we need you to do.

“But what does that have to do with Santa?” Madison leaned close and whispered in his ear.

“It’s not polite to whisper, Madison. You know that,” Dad reminded her.

She bit her lip in embarrassment and nodded.

“To answer your question, Santa is my father…and your grandfather.”

Christmas Story - Part 7

2012-12-17T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously.
Part Seven is brought to us by Delores Goodrick Beggs

Blog: www.goodrickbeggs.wordpress.com

"Mrs. Nielson?"
Heather tried to rein in her swirling emotions and focus on Detective Carson's rheumy eyes where he stood beside the line of reindeer tracks in the snow.
"Mrs. Nielson, we need some explanations here. You need to come down to the station
with us." He lifted his sagging belly enough to reach into his pocket and produce a scrap of white fabric, held it to his nose, and honked into it. "It's cold out here."
Heather tried to gather her scattered wits - what did the police expect, with her husband and daughter both disappeared into thin air? - she clenched her fists. Aching numbness in her fingers brought to her attention her hands and feet were cold. Looking down at the ankle-deep snow she stood in, she laughed brokenly, the hiccupping sound turning into a sob.
It was Christmas Eve, she was cold, miserable, and her husband and daughter had disappeared into thin air, leaving her all alone.
If this was Santa's idea of a gift, she had a thing or two to bend his ear about.
Gifts. She reached an unsteady hand up to trace the outline of the blue and purple studded butterfly necklace from Sean she'd found in the attic and clasped about her neck. Her red, wrinkled fingertips slid over the outline of the butterfly, warming as they went, and a reel of still images flit before her view, blocking out Detective Carson's corpulent bulk.
"Sean!" Whatever? Wherever...? Her eyes lit, the special smile she always saved for Sean formed on her lips, and her heart leaped with joy.
"What was that, Ma'am?" Detective Carson leaned closer, one cupped hand behind his ear.
"Uh...nothing...I'm just cold. I need to go indoors and put warm clothing and shoes on."
She didn't pay any attention to the words she spoke to the officer, concentrating instead on the astounding images of Sean sitting at a table she had streamed through her mind while she clutched the butterfly tight in her fingers, unwilling to lose her grip on the connection with her husband. She'd seen him sitting with Santa Claus, but how could that be? The next image streamed and Sean winked at her. Her lips parted in a warm smile, and he nodded. Was he speaking to her? Telling her not to worry?
"Ma'am?" Detective Carson intruded. "We need to go down to the station."
She let go her tight grip on the necklace, smoothed it back against her torso, letting the images of Sean faded into memory. "I'm not going anywhere dressed like this," she announced. She drew herself up tall and stared unblinking at Detective Carson until he dropped his gaze from hers. "I need to change into proper clothing, get my snowboots...I'll be out shortly."
She turned and marched back into her house, letting the front door bang closed behind her.
She hurried back to her bedroom and changed into the gown she'd set aside to wear Christmas Day, the gold velvet Sean stroked with loving fingers whenever she wore it. All the while her necklace pulsed warm the way her heart often beat when Sean held her close against his strong chest and murmured in her ear she was his jewel before he kissed her. The pulse tempo of the necklace speeded up as she picked up her brush and added a light touch of makeup to her face, fluffed her hair, and then lifted her floor-length skirt in order to step into her warm snowboots. Standing upright again, thought wrinkles creased her forehead. She wasn't looking forward to whiling away the remainder of the night before Christmas sitting in the police station. She wrapped her hand around the pulsating necklace and frowned.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you ready yet? We need to get going." Detective Carson rapped on the front door, then banged hard when no one answered. He opened the door and stepped inside. "You decent?" he called. "Ma'am, it's time we were going."
The house remained silent.

Christmas Story - Part 6

2012-12-16T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously. Part Six is brought to us by Lynette Endicott.

Website: http://www.lynetteendicott.com

Blog: http://www.lynetteendicott.blogspot.com

That adorable granddaughter was rattling the jar at Gibb.

"Gibb, you owe the jar a dollar. You are not being a very good influence on me."

The elf's feet, in green curly toed shoes, extended -- although not very far -- from beneath a red contraption. He scooted out from under it and sat up. He dug into a pocket and pulled out some shiny coins, flinging them into the jar as he climbed up into the contraption.

Madison stared at the coins. "These aren't quarters, Gibb. They look like gold or something."

Gibb frowned. "We don't use quarters at the North Pole."

He was fiddling with what might be controls on what looked suspiciously like a sleigh. Santa's sleigh. The sleigh that had coughed and sputtered as it slid into the garage, in spite of the best efforts of the reindeer to keep it steady. Madison's magical journey, where she could travel without getting cold, had been more than a little shaky. She was getting cold now. She stomped her slipper-clad feet and rubbed her hands together to get warm.

"What's wrong with it, anyway?"

"I wish I knew, kid. Everything has been out of balance, all year long. The big guys says you will fix it but I can't see how. We thought just having you in the sleigh would get it going again."

Madison stared at him. She didn't understand the whole Agent of Christmas thing, but surely it was something more than fixing Santa's sleigh.

Gibb rubbed his own hands together.

"Is it cold in here?"

Madison nodded and blew on her hands, and her breath puffed out in a little cloud of cold.

"Then the heat's not working either. We'd better tell Santa…"

"Tell me what, Gibb?"

Eyes wide with wonder, Madison spun around to see a bearded man in coveralls -- brown coveralls -- stroking his beard with a gloved hand.

"Are…you really Santa," she asked, her voice squeaky with excitement.

The man didn't answer with words, but as he strode closer she could see the twinkling in his eyes and the sparkle of glitter in his long white beard. He smelled of gingerbread and snickerdoodles.

He dropped down on one knee next to her and put out a hand.

"Nick Clause at your service, Madison. You don't know how glad I am to see you. You are the only one who can help me this Christmas."

Was there a tear in Santa's eye?

Madison threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He felt warm and the warmth spread to her figures and toes. She wasn't cold anymore.

She leaned back and looked at him.

"See," he said, giving a little chuckle. "You are already bringing the magic back."

"Gibb, try the sleigh again. With Madison and me here together it will be flying in no time, and speaking of time, we need to get this show on the road. We don't want any children waking up before we've delivered their gifts, do we Madison?"

Christmas Story - Part 5

2012-12-15T03:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously. Part Five is brought to us by Jackie Leigh Allen.

Website: http://jackieleighallen.com

Heather went outside with the crime scene investigator and the sheriff. The sheriff halted on the porch looking first at his polished leather boots and then at the snowy yard where the investigator stood. Darting past him, Heather stepped into the snow in her red knitted slippers and shivered. She looked down where the investigator pointed. Deer tracks. Not unusual in the winter since she lived at the edge of the pine forest.

"Deer tracks. You brought me out in the cold for that?" asked the sheriff and started back inside.

"Not just a single set," the investigator said. "I count eight sets of deer prints."

Eight? Like Santa's reindeer?

*****

Sean leaned back and rubbed his neck. "Do you think we could take a break, Dad? I need to check up on Heather and Madison."

Santa took another sip of spiced cider. "We really need to get some more done, but we can take a moment to look at your house." He hit a switch and a plasma screen on the wall lit up with a picture of Sean's house. Heather stood in the snow in her slippers.

"She'll freeze. What is she doing out in the cold? Where's Madison?"

"Take it easy, boy, everything's under control though I should have sent some wind down to wipe out the reindeer tracks. Too late now." He clicked off the picture.

"Wait. I want to know what's going on."

"The police are investigating your disappearance and they found the reindeer tracks."

"And Madison? Why wasn't she out in the snow with Heather? It isn't like Madison to stay in the house when there's anything going on outside. That child loves the snow as if she'd been born at the North Pole like me."

"Probably inherited it." Santa took another sip and lifted the pitcher. "Would you like a refill?"

"No, I'm fine." Sean took a swallow then frowned. "You've ignored my question. Where's Madison?"

"She's fine, just taking care of a little family business. That's why she wasn't outside with Heather. There are some things your wife doesn't know about Christmas, aren't there?"

"Are you still harping on that old idea I should have married the Snow Fairy? Wouldn't that have been a mixed marriage, too? I'm surprised you don't understand about love."

Santa tipped forward in his chair, outrage reddening his cheeks more than usual. "Don't take that tone with me, young man. Your mother and I have been happy and in love for many, many years."

"Then why don't you understand I had to marry Heather? She was the one for me."

Christmas Story - Part 4

2012-12-14T03:30:00.000-05:00

Part Four

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously. Part Four is brought to us by Barbara Ehrentreu

Blog: http://barbaraehrentreu.blogspot.com/

Madison held tight to Gibb’s hand as they whirlpooled through space. They were definitely not outside, because she didn’t need her coat. It was more like an elevator out of control. She still thought she might be dreaming as suddenly the movement stopped and she felt a thud.

“Open the door, we’re here,” Gibb said.

Madison put out her hand and felt a knob. She twisted it and pushed open the door that looked just like her closet door. “Where are we? What will I find outside this door?”

Gibb didn’t answer, but he followed behind her as the door opened onto a Christmas wonderland. Every kind of evergreen decorated the walls and colored lights were everywhere. Toys spilled out of big boxes and lined shelves. Every space was filled with toys and Madison heard a faint hum coming from the same direction as the toys.

“They’re here!” The cry rose up in the huge space and suddenly hundreds of tiny people came rushing toward her.

“Oh my, she is here at last! We are saved!”

Madison turned to Gibb. “They think I’m here to save them. Help me please. All I want is to go home and go to sleep so Christmas will come. I promise to go to sleep right away.”

“Oh little one. They speak the truth. That is why I was sent to fetch you. You are the only one who can save Christmas this year.”

“What has happened? Where’s Santa Claus? Nothing has happened to him, I hope!”

“Well not exactly, but it could at any minute.”

“And why me? I’m only a child and I can’t do anything .”

“No that isn’t true. You have a power you never knew about yourself.”

Madison looked around her. She was in a circle of little people wearing red and green felt and cute floppy hats. The crowd of men and women looked up at her with such love she felt as if she were being hugged by their eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to do for you, but whatever it is I will try to do it.”

“YAY.” they all yelled and rushed toward her. Madison jumped into Gibb’s arms. He ran back to the door from where they came and Madison let out her breath.

“Oh, my. Does that happen often around here?”

Gibb pushed a button and the crazy room in which they were began to twirl and move upward. “We’re going to see the big guy now. So hold onto your hat.” He looked over at her. “Oh, sorry no hat, but still hold on somewhere. We’re zooming over to see Santa right now.”

She closed her eyes as the contraption took off again and once more they were whirling in space. This time it was faster and she thought she might disappear through the air as it moved farther and farther toward the one person she thought she would never meet. “I wish my Daddy was here so I could tell him how cool this is.” Then she thought about her mother sitting alone waiting for Santa Claus. Would Santa get there tonight? Why was she here? Her brain reeled.

Christmas Story - Part 3

2012-12-13T03:30:00.000-05:00

Part Three

Welcome. Each episode of the Christmas Story has been written by a different author adding to what has been written by previously. Part Three is brought to us by Kelly Whitley

Webpage: http://www.kellywhitley.com/

Red and white lights lasered through the living room windows and bounced off the glass balls decorating the tree in a parody of Christmas cheer. Shadowy men and women with “Police” on the backs of their jackets tracked in snow and walked through her house, talking in low voices.

“Mrs. Nielsen?”

Heather jerked her attention to the overweight detective on her couch. Detective…Carson, that was it. The man assigned to find Madison. Watery eyes, balding head, broken blood vessels on his cheeks. He had the look of a man who saw too much and drank too much to forget. No wedding ring and no sympathy.

The scent of coffee and stale cigarette smoke drifted over. “When’s the last time you saw your daughter?”

“I…tucked her in an hour ago. In her room.” Right before I put on this damned necklace. Heather rubbed her temples with her forefingers. She should’ve let Madi stay up, camp out in the living room like she’d wanted to. Kept an eye on her. Christmas Eve, and she’d been so excited.

“Has she run away before?” Carson tapped his notebook with the tip of his pen.

“Before? Before what?”

“Before tonight.”

“No.” Heather glared. “She’s a little girl, and tonight’s Christmas Eve. She didn’t run away.”

The detective’s eyebrows lifted.

“She didn’t,” Heather snapped. “I know my daughter.”

“Your husband disappeared a month ago.” He flipped through a couple of pages. “Sean Nielsen, age thirty-four. Left home for work and never arrived. No contact, no trace of his whereabouts.”

Something squeezed inside Heather’s chest, stealing her breath. In the span of a month she’d lost them both. Twisting her hands together in her lap, she forced her gaze to meet the detective’s.

“Have you heard from your husband?”

Heather swallowed hard. “No,” she whispered.

Springs squeaked as the detective rearranged his bulk on the couch. “Two missing persons from the same household within a month is a big coincidence.”

What was she supposed to say? Of course it didn’t make sense. Nothing about this situation did.

“Something happen between you and your daughter tonight?”

“No. We’re very close.”

“Maybe an argument got out of hand, you overreacted, and—”

Heather jumped off the couch. “No. I didn’t hurt my daughter. She’s gone, and you’re wasting time here with these idiotic questions.”

Detective Carson pursed his pudgy lips. “Look. There’s no evidence that the kid ever left the house. The windows in her room are locked. The snow around the outside of the house is undisturbed. None of your neighbors have seen her. You’re telling me she was safe in bed, and then in the space of an hour she was gone.”

“I can’t explain it, and I need you to find her.”

“I think we’d better take this downtown, Mrs. Nielsen.”

The front door opened, bringing with it an icy blast. The tinsel fluttered on the Christmas tree and Heather shivered. They didn’t believe her. Madi was gone, and instead of searching, they’d decided Heather had committed some sort of crime.

“No. I can’t leave. She might come back, and I need to be here. Or there could be a call if someone took her.” A strangled cry forced its way past the lump in her throat and she slumped into the recliner.

One of the crime scene investigators stepped into the room. “Detective, there’s something you need to see.”