Before I jump into the Frozen Crimes Blog Hop, I want to invite anyone who's interested to join my #101daysgratitude challenge. It doesn't matter if you start late, or if you can't post every day. I would love company. I'm posting at Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook for the challenge. Guidelines are on the image below.
Frozen Crimes Blog Hop Prompt: Whom would you want to be stuck with during a blizzard, and what would you do?
(Family members and spouses don’t count. Have fun with the question. Think silly. Actors, singers, celebrities, your favorite author, etc. Feel free to pick an entire TV show or movie cast. Your answer doesn’t have to be long, but keep it PG. lol)
My Answer:
Hmm. Again with the decision making? But I can be creative? And pick a whole cast? Well...
It's still tough, but I'm definitely going to be creative and loose with the rules.
Once upon a time in an unexpected blizzard, trees fall across my family driveway, our power goes out, and the internet dies. Snow is falling thick, the temperature is falling, and gusts of wind make the remaining trees bend sideways.
My husband aka better-than-McGuyver man, goes out to start the generator.
When the power surges back on, a strange portal appears in our hallway.
I scream and arm myself with my fencing saber. My husband comes running, but then stops in his tracks when the portal opens.
Out of the portal Princess Leia Organa emerges, followed closely by Han Solo, Chewbacca, C3PO, and Lando Calrissian, all with their weapons out and looking like they stepped out Empire Strikes Back.
We hear the beeps of R2D2, but the portal flashes, and shifts.
As Leia asks where they are and C3PO declares the impossibility ratio as 0.00001 chance, the portal opens again.
Tyrion Lannister, carrying a crossbow and looking furious, steps out. He takes aim at Han, but Chewbacca grabs the crossbow with a roar.
Lando steps into the fray. "I know, Chewie. Just calm down." He glares at Tyrion. "No one is shooting anyone until we figure this out."
Han stands up and brushes off his vest. "Watch it, little man."
"Oaf!" Tyrion sticks his nose in the air and glares at me. "Why have you brought us here? I demand an audience with the ruler of this ... place." His tone is derisive.
The portal flashes and opens again. Troy and Abed from Community step out, both looking amazed and impressed.
"Cool." Troy says.
"Cool. Cool. Cool" Abed says, getting close to Chewie.
"This is our best visit to the Dreamatorium ever, Abed." Troy says.
They give each other their signature double-clap handshake.
The portal gives a high pitch shriek, lightning flashes, and the lights go out again.
Someone screams. (It sounds like Han.)
Chewie growls.
"No, I'm fine, Chewie." Han says grouchily. "Something clawed my pant leg."
"That was our cat," I tell him.
My husband turns on a flashlight to reveal our cat looking smugly at Han.
Tyrion Lannister leans back and puts his hand over his face. "What foul sorcery is this?" When he realizes no one else looks amazed by the flashlight, he clears his throat and glares at me again.
"I don't know how you all came to be here, but would anyone like a cup of mint tea?" I ask.
"Do you have anything stronger?" Tyrion asks.
"Well ..."
"We have some slug bait in the shop." My husband suggests.
"Slug bait?" Tyrion looks furious.
"It's old, cheap beer," I explain.
"Shop?" Lando asks.
"It's actually a workshop connected to our car port," my husband says.
"Never mind that. Cheap beer suits me just fine. What do you think, Princess?" Han asks Leia.
She smiles graciously at my husband John and I, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it. I'll have some tea."
Troy winks at her. "I'll join you, Princess Leia."
"Great," I say, then glance at my husband. "Can we get power on again, do you think?"
"I'll try to get the generator started. If it doesn't work, I'll get the camp stove. Anyone want to lend a hand?" My husband asks.
Chewie growls assent.
Abed nods. "I'm in."
Han and Tyrion eye each other warily, but both step forward.
Lando looks at them, and then Princess Leia, Troy, and I. "I'd like to check out this 'car' port. See if there's a ride we can borrow."
"Um." I step forward, not sure how to tell him he's in the wrong galaxy, or the wrong dimension.
Lightning strikes the yard outside, lighting up a snow-covered yard.
"Lightning in a blizzard? What is this, Revenge of 2020?" I groan.
The others want to know what I mean and I explain about 2020, the year we will never forget in our lifetime.
"The probability of such a grouping of events is 1 in 10 trillion. Near impossibility." C3PO states. He turns and tries, but fails, to whisper quietly to Leia. "I fear we've found ourselves in the home of some madwoman. There is no way such events would occur all within such a short time frame."
"She's not lying." Tyrion states. "I would know."
"Thanks."
"This is like ... well, I don't think we ever had an episode like this on Community." Abed says.
"Maybe we should try it on our next one?" Troy suggests.
"No. We're already on the brink of disaster in most episodes. We don't want to be too unrealistic," Abed says.
I sigh. "I know, most publishers would never publish 2020. Too many plot development issues, and a complete lack of realism. But reality is always stranger than fiction."
"I haven't seen that movie yet, don't ruin it for me." Troy says.
"No, I'm not quoting Stranger Than Fiction. I mean it's like the saying 'Truth is stranger than fiction.'" I tell him.
"True." Abed says.
I'm not sure it's healthy that I'm agreeing with a fictional character from a TV show.
My husband pipes up. "Walk and talk, people. The generator isn't going to fix itself."
I stare at him. "Really?"
"I don't want to freeze."
"You're right. I'll find the candles." I turn on my phone flashlight and go to the closet with Leia, a muttering C3PO, and Troy following me.
My husband goes outside with the others and they are gone so long we have ten candles lit and I've pulled all of the spare blankets out of the closet. There aren't enough.
My husband returns with beer. Han, Chewie, Tyrion, and Lando all carry firewood in their arms.
Lando puts his firewood down and opens his arms expansively, addressing the room. "None of the cars would start, except that one in the small garage, and it's in pieces. It would take us days to get ready for travel and it's not equipped for this weather."
"Wait, you mean the bug-eyed sprite that's been out there for ten years?" I glance at my husband. "Why would the electronics be fried in the other cars?"
"I don't know. But none of this makes much sense," my husband says.
I put my arms around him and we hug. "I like stories, but I don't know if I like being in one," I say.
"Stories. That's what we need." Tyrion holds up a beer and stands up on one of our armchairs. "As payment for the ale, better than some of the swill I've had before, and a place out of the storm, I think we should play a game. Everyone should tell our hosts a story, and we should all judge whether they be true, or whether they be lies." He waits for everyone to respond.
Leia nods. The others slowly take their seats, giving some form of agreement. My husband lights up the camp stove and I make tea.
Everyone finds seats on the couch or on the floor by the glowing embers of the fire which my husband has started. One by one, our guests start to share stories, strange and wondrous - tales I've never heard before in any canon.
Later, much later, when my eyelids droop and I can barely think, the portal reopens, again and again, and they all return to their home dimensions and my head is left full with stories. My husband snuggles in next to me. Our cat and dog are curled up next to us.
Outside, the wind stills. I fall asleep and dream vivid dreams.
When dawn breaks, the power is back on again. My husband checks on the cars, and they all start.
Together, we work to clear the fallen tree from the driveway.
I wonder, for a moment, if our strange visitors were a part of a strange dream, then I find a note from Tyrion, signed by all the rest, even Chewie. "Thanks for the slug bait."
This was a panster story, not exactly to the rules since I included my husband, but ...
How would you spend your evening in a blizzard? And, do you think this unlikely combination of characters would be able to hold a civil conversation or share stories with one another?
Hop around to the other participants to read their answers: Frozen Crimes Blog Hop
When disasters strike
around every corner, is it possible to have a happily-ever-after?
BLURB: Beth and Donovan are expecting their first child. Life
couldn’t get any better…until a stalker makes his presence known. This person
sends disturbing messages and unsettling items, but it isn’t long before his
menacing goes too far.
Hoping for a
peaceful Christmas, Donovan takes Beth to Michigan. Days into their trip, a
winter storm named Nemesis moves in with the goal of burying the state.
Snowdrifts surround their house, and the temperature drops below freezing.
Except, the storm
isn’t the only nemesis they must face. Everyone’s lives are at stake—especially
that of their unborn child. Will they survive, or will they become a frozen
crime?
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EXCERPT:
The crunch of the
shovel pounding into the snow and ice filled his ears. It was all he could
hear. The rest of the street was silent beneath its wintry blanket. Breathing
was difficult with the icy air clogging his lungs. His nose burned. His throat
was dry and on fire. But he ignored it, focusing on his task.
Crack,
crack, crack.
He jabbed the
shovel into a hunk of snow. On the third hit, it shattered into several pieces.
He scooped them up and flung them to the side. He surveyed what remained. There
was one big ball in the middle of the path that needed to be dealt with next.
He moved over to it and struck it. That one impact had it severing in two. He
was about to hit it again when something crashed into the back of his head.
Explosions of
white light danced over his vision. Pain enveloped his skull.
The shovel
slipped from his fingers. Blackness cloaked his mind, coaxing him into its
depths.
Beth. Her name was a whisper in his head, as if his thoughts
were being sucked into a wormhole.
His legs
collapsed under his weight.
Cold. It seeped
into him, consuming him. And then his consciousness fled down that same void
that ate his thoughts.
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To get the exclusive prequel to the Disaster Crimes series, sign up for Chrys’ newsletter. By signing up, you agree to receive Chrys Fey’s
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ABOUT
THE AUTHOR:
Chrys
Fey is author of the Disaster Crimes Series, a unique concept that blends
disasters, crimes, and romance. She runs the Insecure Writer’s Support Group
Book Club on Goodreads and edits for Dancing Lemur Press. https://www.chrysfey.com
Author Links:
Website / Blog / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon