12 Days of Christmas – #1 Elizabeth Ann West

WOOOOOOT! It’s here! It’s Christmas Eve! Yay!

Ok, we’ve had some brilliant stories and posts over these past 12 days. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed hosting them. Thank you to everyone who contributed.

I saved the last spot for someone special. Elizabeth is not only one of our brilliant authors over at MWiDP and our fabulous IT guru, but in 2012 we are going to be working on a couple of projects with her. She’s also pretty cool!

Here she is:

Christmas Under Pressure

This is my fifth attempt to write this blog post. I’ve followed the series and I’ve built up all of this pressure on myself to deliver. I’ve got THE Christmas Eve post. The last one…and I’m so afraid to disappoint.

Here’s the problem: I’m not IN to Christmas this year. In my country, the good old US of A, there are two extreme camps. One side looks at Christmas like a sport, with bargains hunted with such ferocity, don’t visit your neighborhood K-mart without pepper spray! On a completely opposite side of the spectrum, are the religious fanatics, who want to throw piety around like it’s 1692 and there’s some witches to burn. How many tiers did you make your birthday cake for Jesus?

This year, I did all of my shopping in one day. I bought a small gift for the in-laws and shipped it to them directly, as our recent move from SC to CT has put a damper on our Christmas fund. My children each had a limit placed on them, and I even traded in my hand held video game player for an extra boost so we could upgrade my stepson’s system.

My husband and I are not exchanging gifts this year, a first. And I don’t care. I’m not upset one bit. This year, my family worried about our future too, too much. My husband applied for an officer program in the Navy and if he didn’t get it, was getting out. He flew to job interviews in places that get eleven feet of snow per year. Let me say that again. Me, a girl raised in southeastern Virginia, where everything shuts down on a forecast of flurries, was going to move to a place where they get ELEVEN feet of snow!

And I would have gone. But thankfully, he made officer and we now live in Connecticut, where they average about twenty inches of snow per year. For the first two year though, it’s a slight pay cut (we’re making the same amount we made in SC, but there’s a high cost of living up here and we are renting out the house we own down south).

The bottom line is my family is healthy and happy. My marriage is in a less stressful season, despite living a little tighter to our budget. I couldn’t ask for more than that. Well I could, but I don’t want it. I’m looking forward to a new year writing another novel or two, and putting on a publisher hat once in awhile. I’m anxious for a brand new chance to make life special, whether it’s reaching out to a reader who wants to read my book but cannot because she is blind so I’m making her an audio book, or teaching my daughter how to spell her name.

This year, I just want a normal, quiet holiday. My family is finally together, without anymore Navy deployments. The lack of emotional drama is one of the best gifts I could ask from Santa Claus. And we’re building new family traditions, such as my parents visiting the weekend before Christmas. What about that extravagant Christmas dinner everyone puts on? The West family is making pizzas.

So Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.

If you haven’t seen Meet Me in St. Louis, give it a chance this holiday season. And I look forward to celebrating a new year full of new opportunities with all of you. Merry Christmas!

Thanks Elizabeth! And here’s to 2012!

So, that’s it. We’re done.

All that remains is to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a fantastic New Year. Here’s hoping that 2012 brings us all everything we could wish for and more.

Saffi

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12 days of Christmas – #8 Tallulah Grace

 

Here it is! #8 of our blog fest countdown to Christmas!

Today the brilliant Tallulah Grace brings you the first part of a Christmas Story, ‘Kelly’s Christmas’. You can read the rest of the story over at Tallulah’s blog.

Hallelujah for Tallulah!

Christmas brings wonderful memories and warm moments for most of us, but some would rather ignore it altogether. Kelly lost everything one Christmas Eve; can an ethereal visitor help her rejoin the living? This short story is the back story of one of the characters in my upcoming novel, as yet untitled.

Kelly’s Christmas

The lights dangling merrily from every house on the street except hers silently mocked as she drove home. “It’s Christmas, time for family and friends and all-around good cheer,” they screamed with their twinkling colors swaying in the cold winter wind. Like she needed a reminder. It was impossible to turn around in this town without getting some type of in-your-face seasonal message. It was enough to make Rudolph puke.

She used to love Christmas; the decorations, the parties, the baking and the joy in finding just the right gift to make her little girl smile. Before, she couldn’t wait for Christmas to arrive. Before, she shopped all year to give everyone on her list something special. Now, she wanted to close her eyes and wake up in mid-January. Or not wake up at all.

As the garage door closed behind her, she grabbed her briefcase and the fast food bag that held her Christmas Eve meal. Doing her best to ignore the holiday wishes stamped all over the paper bag, she made her way into the dark house. Seven years had fled since the night she’d lost everything, but the memories were still fresh, too fresh to celebrate this farce of a holiday ever again.

The high-pitched beep of the alarm broke the silence until she entered the code. After flooding the kitchen with light, she locked all three deadbolts before stepping out of her shoes. “I should have gone away again this year,” she told the African violet perched on the window sill.  “Blake could’ve handled the trial.” Even as she spoke, she knew that this one was too important to turn over to anyone else. No way would she risk the pervert walking. His victims could never testify against him, but she would speak for them, with a vengeance. He would rot behind bars, of that she was certain.

“Fine thoughts for a Christmas Eve.” The voice came from out of the blue, causing her to drop the wine glass she had just taken from the cabinet and whirl around frantically. The kitchen was empty.

“Who’s there?” She reached behind her, trying to grab a butcher knife from the counter. “Show yourself!” She commanded.

“I don’t think I can.” The voice came again, this time it was right beside her. “Put down that knife, please, before you hurt yourself.”

“What is this?” Kelly whispered, sliding along the counter’s edge, away from the disembodied voice.

“Don’t be frightened, sweetheart, it’s me, Kyle. Have you forgotten what I sound like?”

Kelly froze, still holding the knife in front of her. This could not be happening. Maybe I’m losing my mind, she thought.

“No, you’re not crazy,” the voice answered her thoughts. “At least not any crazier than normal.”

The low, deep chuckle sent shivers along her spine. It sounded just like Kyle, but it couldn’t be. Kyle died seven years ago, along with Kaylee, their daughter, her parents and Kyle’s parents. It was a stroke of luck that she had not been in the house during the invasion. A stroke of very bad luck. She would much rather have died along with her family than to be left behind to mourn them.

“No, Kelly, you’re still here for a reason. Please stop thinking that way.” The voice became soft, almost pleading.

“Stop that! How can you know what I’m thinking? Where are you?” Kelly moved along the counter until her back touched the corner. “If this is some kind of sick joke, I am not amused.”

“It’s no joke, hon, it’s me. Come sit down and I’ll explain.” One of the chairs around the breakfast table slid out as the voice continued. “You always did believe in ghosts, don’t tell me that you changed your mind.”

Kelly stared at the chair, willing it not to have moved. After several, silent minutes, she spoke. “Kyle?”

“Yes love, I’m here. Please put down the knife and sit. I’m not sure how long I can stay.”

Read the rest of the story at Tallulah’s blog

Happy Holidays~
Tallulah

Thanks once again Tallulah for brightening up SM0D&L!

Tomorrow – the delectably dark, Ruth Barrett!

Saffi

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