A Christmas to Remember Blog Hop

THIS CONTEST HAS EXPIRED AS OF 12/15/2012 11:59 PM-THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING. PLEASE CONTINUE TO ENJOY OUR CHRISTMAS STORY.

THE WINNER OF THE CAJUN BASKET AND EBOOK COPY OF CAJUN FRIED CHRISTMAS IS:

KAYELEEN HAMBLIN

GRAND PRIZE WINNER OF THE $100 AMAZON GIFT CARD IS:

MRS. SYLVIA STEIN

CONGRATULATIONS LADIES!

Please join us in the celebration of our Lord and Savior, and rejoice with us our favorite Christmas songs and movies and join us on a progressive Christmas story hop.

A progressive Christmas Story? Well, six authors decided to write one story. No plot, no character profiles, no plan. Just creative license to write. The first author began the story and handed it off to the next, and so on...Read our impromptu Christmas Story. We hope you enjoy it!

Here’s how the blog hop works:

A.  Go to each blog in the order that is listed below.

B.  Read the first section of the story. Then follow the link to the next section of the      story.

C.  At each blog, comment to get entered in both the Grand Prize drawing ($100 Amazon Gift Card) and to be entered in each author’s individual drawing. Your comments can be about the story. Or you can tell us your favorite Christmas songs or movies or books. You can also tweet and like us on Facebook to be entered multiple times.

Feel free to browse each author’s bookshelf.

Blogs to visit for the Progressive Christmas Story should be visited in the order listed below:

1.   Gloria Harchar

2.   Emerald Barnes

3.   Bonnie Blythe

4.   Anita Green

5.   Marian Merritt

6.   Rich Bullock

7.   Dawn Turner

To read part 4, visit Anita Green

A Christmas to Remember - Part 5

Meredith gasped as darkness enveloped her and musty air filled her senses. She tried to remember what she'd seen on the shelves of the small pantry: canned goods, a bag of potatoes, and other objects that wouldn't help if she needed to defend herself.

The black space closed in on her. Squeezed her. Where the darkness had soothed her headache last night, this morning it terrified her as the shelves, close on each side, brushed her shoulders. She attempted a deep breath and found she couldn't get enough air for her lungs.

One…two…three…breathe. 

She wiped her palms on the seat of her pants and pressed her ear against the door.

Nothing.

She paced back and forth the two steps the small room afforded her. Her rapid shallow breaths were useless attempts to fulfill her need. If only there was some light in this darkness. Just a little. Finally, she slid to the floor with her back against the door. 

Please Lord watch over Garth. And please, please Lord, don't let me be stuck in here much longer. I don't know how much of this I can take.

A rough gravely voice burst through the silence. "Garth. Are you in there?" The voice filtered into the room from a distance. Maybe just outside the kitchen window. She couldn't be sure.

Silence answered the unknown man's question. Where was Garth?

"Garth, you coward. Show your ugly face." His sinister laughter echoed throughout the peaceful morning. The same place where only last night she'd brought innocent children—children who could have been injured while singing Christmas carols.

Meredith's chest heaved up and down, up and down.

Need air.

As she assessed her situation, her panic rose.

She attempted another deep breath and when the relief she anticipated—needed—didn't come, her heart thundered in her chest. 

Lord, please. Yea though I walk through the valley…C'mon remember, remember. I will fear no evil…She visualized the psalm on the page of her Bible and, as she recited the words, the vise squeezing her chest eased.

The image of the children's smiles from last night came to mind. They'd loved singing the familiar Christmas carols and seeing the joy on the faces of the people who'd opened their doors to them.

Except, of course, when Garth had opened his door. Now she knew why he'd had the gun. He'd gotten involved with something evil, and she had landed smack dab in the middle of it.

The image of the children's frightened and distraught faces replaced the happy joyous one. Thank God, that man, whoever he was, had not been here last night.

Her pulse pounded in her neck and head again. She stood and paced the two steps within the confined space. As she turned back toward the door, a popping sound cracked through the air. She jumped. Garth? A shiver snaked along her back causing the skin there to tingle. Would his mission of revenge get him killed? And her, too? Oh, Lord, soften his heart.

"Merrie, you okay?" Garth's whispered words bathed her heart with relief. Thank you, Lord. He still lived.

She leaned into the door and pressed her lips near the corner. "Garth, what's happening?"

"Stay put. Do not make a sound. Understand?" His commands were rushed and urgent.

She growled under her breath. "Yes."

"Merrie. It's not what you think. I'll explain later." Even rushed, tenderness seeped through his words and spread into the place of her heart that she'd thought she'd barricaded tight against Garth Decker. Had he really thought she would turn away from him because of his injuries? Did he not know how much she had loved him?

"Okay. And Garth, I don't care about the scars." The words drifted from her lips in such a soft whisper that she wondered if he'd heard her. A slight shuffle of nylon against nylon answered.

"Garth Decker, come out here, it's time to end this here and now. Just you and me." The graveled speech sent chills through her as she tried to imagine the face that belonged to the unnerving voice.

The unmistakable kluck-klack of metal on metal—a slide chambering a round—sounded from the other side of the door.

Then silence.

Moments later the slow creak of unoiled hinges betrayed the opening of the back door.

End of Part 5

To read Part 6, visit Rich Bullock.

Note: All Christian Blog Hops will be announced at CHIN Blog Hops. 

Be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss out! 

(All winners will be announced at CHIN Blog Hops, too.)

Comment on this blog and you will be entered in a drawing to win a Cajun Goodies Basket and a free ebook copy of my Christmas Novella, Southern Fried Christmas.

(Please leave your email address as myemail at xxxxx dot com in the comments below) 

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Bonne Christmeusse! 

Thanks for visiting Lagniappe

I pray that you find "a little something extra" in each of your days.

Marian