Once Upon a Brave Christmas by Alicia Dean ~ Part 3, Conclusion

Neil took hold of her wrist and tugged her inside the warm lobby. The cold hit her all at once, and she trembled, wrapping her arms around her body. He pulled an afghan off the sofa and slid his damp jacket off her shoulders, replacing it with the afghan. She wanted to lean into his warmth, but not only was it the wrong moment, he thought she was a raving lunatic.

“What the hell do you mean, you’re from the future?”

She sighed. No way was he going to believe her. But, she had to try. She explained everything, from the moment Dorothy asked for the favor, to the moment Lorelei found the letter.

Neil shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of weird game you’re playing, or maybe you really are mentally unstable.” He perused her face and then spoke as if calming a skittish colt. “If you are, we can get you help.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, I’m not crazy. It’s true. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” She ran upstairs to her room, snatched up the letter and the article, and hurried back down, thrusting them at Neil.

His eyes scanned them, his features creasing in confusion. “What is this?” He looked up. “How did you fake this article?”

She groaned in frustration. “I didn’t fake it. That’s an article from tomorrow’s paper.” She nearly stomped her foot. “You have to believe me. Your brother’s life depends on it.” She pointed to the photograph of the sobbing man. “That’s you, right?”

Anger sparked in his eyes. “It looks like me, but I don’t even own that sweater. I’ve never seen it before. When you planned this out, you should have been a little more accura—” His gaze went to the Christmas tree where a handful of presents lay at the foot. He rushed over and grabbed a gift the size of shirt box and tore it open. “Son of a…” He turned to Lorelei, his face pale. In his hands, he held a bright green sweater. Although, in the photo, it was colorless. But she recognized the snowflake pattern.

“This is from John.” His voice shook. “I hadn’t opened it yet, but I would have by tomorrow, when the article comes out.” He took a step toward her. “Dear God, it’s impossible, but I think you’re telling the truth.”

“I am.” Relief flooded her. “And we need to find him, before that”—she jabbed a finger at the image—”happens. The accident occurred at two a.m. We have a few hours. Where would he go to drink at this time of night?”

Neil shook his head. “I don’t know. We live here at the motel. There are no bars open…”

“I know where he’d go.”

They turned. Dot stood in the doorway of the lobby, tears streaming down her face. “I—I might have killed him?”

“No.” Lorelei took her gently by the hand. “We can save him. It’s not too late. Where would he have gone?”

“There’s an abandoned cabin by Haddon pond. We stash booze there.”

“Come on, I’ll drive.” Neil headed out the door, not bothering to grab a coat. Lorelei would have offered to drive, but Neil was familiar with the area, and for all she knew, she’d drive them right into 2018.

The roads were treacherous, but Neil handled the car skillfully, driving quickly but cautiously.

On the way, Lorelei explained everything to Dot, who sat in the back seat, trembling and crying.

“You were never happy without him. He loves you and doesn’t care about what you’ve done, about your past. All that matters is your future.”

“This is…” she sniffed. “…unbelievable.”

“I know.” Lorelei reached back and patted her knee. “I’m still not sure I believe it myself.”

They slowed at a turn-in. The ’54 Chevy bumped over a snow-packed drive until the car’s beams shone on a vehicle parked outside a shack.

“Thank God,” Neil breathed. “That’s John’s car.”

The three of them jumped out. Neil tried the cabin door, but it was locked. He banged on it. “John! I know you’re in there, let me in.”

Silence.

Neil continued to knock and shout. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll kick it down. Then, I’ll kick your ass.”

A few seconds went by before the door opened. John looked over Neil’s shoulder where Dot and Lorelei stood shivering.

“What are you doing here?”  He tipped a whisky bottle up to his mouth.

“I need to talk to you,” Dot said, stepping around Neil.

He glared at her. “I think you’ve done enough talking. Now go away. I just want to be alone and get schnockered.”

Neil pushed his way past him into the room. Dot and Lorelei followed behind. Lorelei sighed gratefully when the door closed behind them and blocked out the biting wind.

“You can drink all you want,” Neil said. “But you can’t drive.”

“Screw you. You can’t boss me around.” He staggered and gestured toward Dot with the bottle. “And screw you too. I don’t need you nohow.”

Dot stepped forward, her expression beseeching. “I was wrong. Can you give me another chance?”

He narrowed his eyes as if suspicious. “You… want another chance? You’re the one who dumped me.”

“I know. And I am so, so sorry. I love you and I want to be with you. I just...I didn’t think you’d want me after what I’ve done.”

“You mean sleeping around?” John shook his head. “I don’t care about that. All I want is you. I love you, exactly the way you are.”

“You do?” Her trembling voice held hope.

He seemed slightly more sober. “Yes, I absolutely do.”

She flew into his arms, and they kissed…and kept kissing…

Neil said, “Uh, I hate to interrupt, but maybe we should head back to the motel before I freeze my…” He shot a glance at Lorelei “…toes off.”

She grinned. Such a gentleman.

John and Dot broke apart. “You can go on,” John said. “We’re right behind you.”

Neil grimaced. “No way, bud. You’re not driving anywhere tonight. We’ll come get your car later.”

John frowned. “What’s going on, what’s all this about?”

“We’ll tell you on the way, but you’ll never believe it.”

~*~

Neil was right, John hadn’t believed it, but he didn’t care. He and Dot were together and, to him, that was all that mattered. They had gone upstairs, and Lorelei sat with Neil on the cushy sofa in front of the fire.

Neil shook his head. “Everything happened so fast earlier, I guess I more or less took the time travel thing as the truth. But, I gotta say, I’m dumbfounded. Can it really be?” He took her hand in his. “Are you really from the future? How does that even work?”

She let the moment wash over her…the rightness of it all...being with Neil, his thumb stroking the back of her hand… She nearly sighed with pleasure. “I think I’m still processing it myself. I just couldn’t deny the proof that I’d landed in 1956. And, I promise, I’m from 2018.”

He grunted. “That figures. The first woman I've ever thought I might see a future with, and you're not even of my world.”

His words brought tears to her throat. “I know. I've had a lot of relationships. I thought I was in love once, but he never made me feel the way you do.”

He lifted his brows. “So, this portal of yours. What would happen if I was with you?”

She gaped at him. “You mean, if you were in the car with me, when I drove back to 2018?” She mulled it over. “I don’t know how that would work… Would you really come?”

He took her face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being five feet away from you, I certainly don’t want to be decades apart.”

She blinked back tears. “But, we don’t even know each other.”

He grinned. “That didn’t stop you from jumping in the middle of our business.”

She laughed. “In all fairness, I was saving your brother’s life.”

His expression sobered. “I know. And I can never thank you enough.” He brushed a lock of hair back from her face and trailed his finger down her cheek. “I’d like to get to know you. I can’t lose you. Not before we’ve even had a chance.”

She thought for a moment. “Or, I could stay here with you? Maybe for a little while until we see how it works out between us?” A thrill of excitement shot through her. Not only would she be with Neil, she’d get to experience all sorts of amazing things. The moon landing, Elvis’ rise to stardom, tons of inventions. She made a vow that she wouldn’t tell Neil about any of the events ahead of time…spoilers wouldn’t be fair. And, she would try really hard to be ethical and not bet on any Super Bowls, boxing matches, or World Series.

“You’d do that?” His eyes glittered like liquid steel in the light from the flickering fire.

She held her right hand up to gaze at the ring. Dorothy had wanted her to find her brave self. Starting a new life in the rockin’ fifties surely qualified. “Yes, I think I would.”

“Well, that’s definitely an option. We can spend our first Christmas together and make a decision about the future after that, right?”

She smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

He stood and reached out his hand. “Come with me.”

She let him pull her to her feet. He led her to the fireplace and pointed toward the ceiling. She looked up to find mistletoe hanging above them.

“Do you have mistletoe in the future?” He tugged her closer.

Stepping into his arms, she wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes, we most definitely do. You know, some traditions are timeless.”

He flashed a sexy smile. “Then that means you know what it’s for?”

Giddy anticipation tingled through her. “I know exactly what it’s for,” she whispered. With a contented sigh, she rose to her tiptoes and showed him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

 Thank you for reading my contribution to our Christmas stories. 

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Be sure to stay tuned for tomorrow's Christmas Free Read by the wonderful Barbara Edwards...

Merry Christmas!

Once Upon a Brave Christmas by Alicia Dean ~ Part 2

My sweet Lorelei,

In case you haven’t figured it out, you’re much farther away than you anticipated when you agreed to my favor. Not in miles, but in decades. That’s right, you’ve landed in 1956.

I'm sorry I tricked you. I know you'll find what I’m about to tell you hard to believe, but if you've already seen the town, the people, the inn, then you’re aware something is…off. You know Mr. Daws, my neighbor? He's a scientist. He has babbled on about time travel, though I never believed him. Then one day, imagine my shock when he proved it by making Thomas Edison appear for a visit. He sent him back quickly, said it wasn't something he liked to mess with anymore, because he was getting on, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to correct it. But I begged him. And he agreed. He created a time portal. And I gave it to you. It’s the ring.

You'll meet me—young me. Young me will not know who you are or that you are a time traveler. I need you to correct an awful wrong that I caused. On Christmas Eve, I broke up with John. He was devastated. He drank himself into oblivion and later that night had an awful car wreck that killed him. This article tells the story. The man sobbing in the photo is John’s brother, Neil.

Lorelei studied the images. Even though his face didn’t show, she could see now that it was Neil in the photo. Dear God, was this true? Impossible… A realization hit her…she’d already met young Dorothy—Dot. She could see the likeness now. Dot was a younger version of Dorothy. Stunned, she continued reading.

I've carried guilt with me for decades. Neil became a recluse and lived in misery. I've had a wretched existence. And John’s life ended way too soon. My one act ruined so many lives. I can't leave this world without righting my wrong. It's not entirely selfish. I hope this experience opens up an adventurous side of you. You're too young and pretty to live like an old lady. You never go out with friends, you don't have a young man in your life. I hope this helps you find your brave self, and I hope you take a chance and actually live life instead of just sleepwalking through it. You can return to our time the day after Christmas, even if you have not succeeded at the task. You must simply drive back the way you came, as long as you are wearing the ring.

Lorelei stared at the ring, then the letter, then the article, trying to decide if she really believed this nonsense. But, in truth, how could she not believe it? The cars, the outfits, the lingo, the cheap meal, Neil’s confusion, the odd reaction to the way she was dressed. This was no vintage car show, this was truly, literally, the 1950s. She was astounded…but she had to accept it. How had Dorothy even known she’d find the letter? That she’d keep the ring on? She’d left an awful lot to chance.

A sudden burst of fury overrode her confusion. How dare Dorothy make that kind of decision for her? Lorelei was quite happy with her life. She’d decided romance wasn’t in the cards for her, but she loved her job as an admin for a charity that helped the poor. And, she loved her quiet life. She didn’t need anyone dictating her future.

But Dorothy hadn’t actually done it for her, had she? She’d done it for herself, because she hadn’t liked the way her life turned out. How selfish…  

Although…she was attempting to save a life. And even though it was bizarre, the least Lorelei could do was try to correct her mistake…which would mean changing the past. A shiver ran over her skin that had nothing to do with the snow and ice lashing the window. How was she to prevent the tragedy? She couldn’t manhandle John and stop him from driving.

She sighed. She would do her best. And if it didn't work, her conscience would be clear. But as soon as she returned to her time, Dorothy was going to get an earful.  

~*~

Neil introduced Lorelei to his brother that afternoon. John was better looking than in the newspaper photo. He resembled Neil, although his hair was lighter and his eyes bluer. A chill washed through her at the thought that he could be dead in less than twelve hours.

After they shook hands, he said, “I understand you have a message for me. Do I know you?”

“No, I uh…” What could she say? She couldn’t share Dorothy’s message now. “I met someone who knew you and they asked me to say hi. Uh…” A name popped into her head. “Justin Timberlake.”

He frowned. “I don’t know a Justin Timberlake. How did he say we knew one another?”

“He didn’t. Sorry, maybe it’s a mix up. I told him I was traveling through, and he asked me to tell you he said hello.” Lorelei cringed at the lies she was piling up. It all sounded so ridiculous.

“Okay, well, thanks for delivering the message. I guess since you’re here, and the weather is a real doozy, you’re sticking around for the bash?”

“I am. I appreciate you guys inviting me.”

Neil said, “Speaking of the party, I’m way behind on the food. I’d better get back to the kitchen.”

“Can I help?” Lorelei wasn’t sure why she offered, other than because she had nothing else to occupy her time until tonight, when she could hopefully derail a tragedy.

He lifted his brows. “Really? I need to prepare a hundred canapes.”

She had no idea what a canape was, but she was certain she could handle it. “Sure, I’m in.”

As it turned out, canapes were small appetizers—in this case, white bread cut out in various shapes and grilled on one side, some topped with deviled ham and horseradish, others with bacon and peanut butter, which both sounded disgusting, but she didn’t have to eat it, she just had to make it.

It was a time-consuming task, but she didn’t mind…it gave her an opportunity to be with Neil, something she was enjoying more than was wise.

Neil told her about how he and John had lost their parents in a boating accident when Neil was in high school and John was twelve. The state wanted to take John, but Neil convinced them he could take care of him, and he’d raised him and seen him through high school graduation two years ago.

Lorelei’s heart warmed toward him. “That’s admirable, that you would put your life on hold to raise your brother.”

He shoveled another batch of the toasted bread onto a platter. “What else was I going to do? Family is everything.”

Was this guy for real? Sexy, kind, selfless… She almost sighed aloud.

As he spread the toppings on the bread, his taut muscles strained against the white t-shirt he wore, and she could barely focus on his words. He glanced up and caught her staring. She started to turn away, but he raised a hand toward her face, and she stilled.

His eyes dropped to her lips, and her mouth went as dry as chalk. Was he going to kiss her? She waited breathlessly, not sure how she’d react, but she didn’t have to worry about it for long. He brushed his fingertips along her jaw, then pulled back, showing her his hand. “You had a smudge of peanut butter on your face.”

She laughed self-consciously, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. So much for her sexy fantasy. “Oh…er…thank you.”

He nodded, studying her intently for a moment. A silent, charged current passed between them, and she knew he was attracted to her as well. “Lorelei, I—”

“Sorry.” She cut him off and busied herself with the canapes. “I’ve fallen behind, I’m afraid. Better get back to it.” He didn’t respond, and they finished in silence. She tamped down her irritation with herself. She’d made the right decision. Nothing could come of it, so what was the point?

~*~

That night at the party, Lorelei wore a dress she’d borrowed from Dot—a burgundy floral lace swing dress that was a little snug for her liking. Dot was petite and Lorelei, not so much. She was grateful, though, she’d have stuck out like an alien from another planet in her own clothes.

The room was dim, other than the twinkling lights from the tree and strung along the walls, giving the room a romantic, festive feel. Music played, alternating between non-Christmas and Christmas songs—a few she recognized and many she didn’t.

“I Was the One,” by Elvis began, and Neil appeared at the table where she and Dot sat. He looked incredibly handsome in black baggie slacks and an iridescent bronze dinner jacket with black collar. He held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Wordlessly, she placed her hand in his, and he led her to the dance floor, where he took her into his arms. His body was strong and warm against hers—very real, yet this night felt completely unreal.

They danced in silence for a few moments, then Neil whispered against her hair, “I’m not sure what’s happening, and I know it’s soon, but I just gotta tell you.” He leaned back and looked into her eyes. “I’m starting to feel something for you.”

She nodded, her voice shaky when she spoke. “I know. Me too.”

He smiled. “I guess we don’t have to figure out anything yet, we’ll just live in the moment.” He placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her back against him.

She wasn’t a ‘live in the moment’ kind of person, and she and Neil most definitely didn’t have many moments left together. The thought brought on unexpected sadness and she incongruously felt like crying.

The song ended, and he led her back to her table. Her legs weak, she lowered into the chair. Was she actually falling for a man she just met? Someone with whom there was no future?

“Hey, is everything okay?”

She looked up to find Dot peering at her. 

“Yes, fine. I was just—”

“You were just staring at Neil like he was a giant milkshake covered in whipped cream.” Dot smiled teasingly.

Lorelei’s face heated. “No, I wasn’t, I—”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. Neil’s dreamy. And, he’s a wonderful fella.” Dot bit into a piece of stuffed celery and chewed as she spoke. “Did you know that all the profit from this party goes to help the less fortunate? It’s a thing he started himself called Lend a Helping Hand.”

Lorelei’s eyes widened in shock. Lend a Helping Hand was the organization she worked for. And this man had started it? She groaned inwardly. Really? Could he get any more perfect? “He does seem great.”

“Yeah.” Dot’s voice held resignation. “And after tonight, he’ll probably hate me.”

“Why?”

She drew in a deep breath and placed the remainder of the celery back on her plate. “I’m ending things with John.”

Here we go… Foreboding gripped her. “You are? Why?”

She shrugged. “Honestly? I’m not good enough for him.” She lowered her voice. “I have a…reputation around town. I admit, I’ve made mistakes. I cheated on him. He knows it and forgave me, but I just feel so guilty, so unworthy.”

“You can’t break up with him!” Lorelei cringed as she almost shouted the words.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“Because, you just…can’t.”

Dot’s expression set in a mutinous glare. “It’s honestly none of your business. This is hard enough already.” She shot to her feet. “Just stay out of it, would ya?”

Dorothy stormed off…and right up to John Whitten. Lorelei’s heart sank into her stomach. She rose and approached the couple, her mind running through ways to stop John from leaving. His accident happened at two a.m. That was hours from now. There was still time.

“How could you do this to me?” John’s voice was an anguished cry. “I forgave you for cheating. I love you. You can’t leave me!”

Dot squared her shoulders. “It’s over. I’m moving away after Christmas.”

“You can’t, please don’t.” He reached out for her, but she stepped away from his touch. He shook his head. “I’ll never get over you. I’ll love you til the day I die.”

His words sent a chill skittering over Lorelei’s flesh.

“I’m sorry.” Tears choked Dot’s voice. She turned and hurried away, bursting through the door leading to the kitchen.

His features etched with pain and anger, John whirled and headed to the front door.

Lorelei rushed up to him. “John, wait!”

He ignored her until she gripped his arm and stopped him, then he glared at her. “What do you want?”

“You…you can’t go. Please, don’t leave.”

He scowled, but she could tell he was fighting back tears. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“Maybe there is. You can stay, we can talk to Dot together.”

He gave a humorless laugh and swiped at his wet eyes. “I think I’ve suffered enough humiliation for one night.”

“Let him go.”

Lorelei released John and looked back to find Neil standing behind her. She shook her head. “I can’t let him leave.”

“He needs to be alone, not around a crowd of busybodies.”

She glanced around. The dancing and conversation had stopped, and the partygoers were gawking at them. “But, if he leaves, he’ll—”

Neil huffed out a frustrated breath and jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “Oh for God’s sake. It’s none of your business. She’s hurt him over and over. He needs to let go.”

“No, you don’t unders—” She shook her head, turning back to find John gone. “Where did he go?” How had she not seen him leave? She’d been too focused on Neil.

She hurried across the room and to the door. Neil called out to her, but she didn’t stop. She jerked open the motel door and ran outside. She shouted for John, but the freezing wind snatched her words away.

Behind her, she heard Neil say, “What the hell are you doing? You’ll die of exposure.”

She shot him a quick glance then frantically searched the parking lot. “Is his car gone?” Her teeth chattered, but she barely felt the cold. “Did I miss him?”

Neil shrugged his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. “Why are you so worried?”

“Because,” the words choked out of her. “If we don’t find him and stop him, he’s going to die. Tonight.”

He glared at her. “You’re out of your mind.”

“No,” she cried, desperate to make him believe her. “I’m telling the truth. I know he’s going to die.”

“How do you know?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Because, where I’m from, it’s already happened.”

“What do you mean, where you’re from it’s already happened? That’s crazy talk.”

“It is, but I’m telling the truth.” She sucked in a deep mouthful of the icy wind. “I know, because I’m from the future.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

I hope you enjoyed Part 2. Please join me tomorrow for Part 3, the conclusion of Once Upon a Brave Christmas

Once Upon a Brave Christmas by Alicia Dean ~ Part 1

Lorelei peered through the snow-spattered windshield at the neon sign and hoped like hell there was room at the inn. She also hoped like hell she was in Haddon. If she hadn’t made it to her destination yet, she’d stay anyway. No way was she driving any farther tonight. 

How had she let herself be talked into this madness? A road trip during a blizzard, two days before Christmas? Insanity. But Dorothy had been so insistent, so desperate. Lorelei couldn’t deny the request of a dying woman, especially one who’d been like a grandmother to her. Lorelei’s parents had moved to Australia from their home in Moore, Oklahoma while Lorelei was in college. She only saw them every few years. With no siblings, she had no family nearby and hadn’t celebrated Christmas in years. So, she would embark on an adventure.

It hadn’t been snowing hard when Lorelei left three hours earlier. If it had been, she was certain Dorothy would not have sent her on this task.

She released her grip on the steering wheel and rubbed her right hand with her left. She’d held on so tightly for so long, the ring Dorothy had given her had made deep, painful grooves in her fingers. The ring was 10 karat gold with a red, oval stone surrounded by small green crystals. Cheap, gaudy, but Dorothy had been so excited to gift it to her that Lorelei hadn’t had the heart to tell her it was hideous. She could take it off now, but even without Dorothy knowing, it still felt like a betrayal.

Resigned to the fact that the pelting snow wouldn’t ease up any time soon, she pushed the door open and was immediately buffeted by a blast of icy air. She shivered as she stepped out, burrowing into her scarf. A glance at the parking lot showed several older model cars, like, maybe from the fifties or sixties. Had she arrived during a vintage car show or something? If so, there was a good chance the motel would be full. And she’d need at least one night accommodations—maybe two.

She trudged toward the door, head down. There was no moon out, and the darkness was broken only by the pink, green and purple neon sign painting the words ‘Drop Inn’ on the white snow. The name gave her hope. Apparently, reservations were not required.

The heavy wooden door creaked as she pulled it open. She stepped inside to the warmth of a cozy lobby with a fire burning in the fireplace and a Christmas tree in one corner. Plaid furniture and hard wood floors gave it a rustic, comfy feel. The sound of conversation, laughter, and music coming from the other side of a closed door off the lobby drew her attention.

Hoping she wasn’t interrupting something, she pushed open the door. A group of unoccupied tables were scrunched together at one end of the room while the other end was empty except for a larger Christmas tree than the one in the lobby. A young woman dressed in retro fifties garb was placing centerpieces on the tables. To the right was a bar and next to that, an old-fashioned juke box from which an oldies song—one that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t name—played. The guy behind the bar and the customers sitting on the stools were dressed in throwback clothing, with throwback hairstyles. Part of the vintage car show, she presumed. These people went all out.

The bartender spotted her and stepped from behind the bar, approaching her with a charming, friendly smile. His dark hair was slicked back with a wayward lock hanging over his forehead. He wore a button up blue cardigan with a black shirt underneath. Gray-blue eyes raked her from head to toe. His interest didn’t seem sexual, more…curious, puzzled. He frowned briefly, then his countenance morphed back to friendly. "Hi, sorry. I didn’t know anyone had come in. It’s kinda loud in here.” He gestured toward the jukebox which had begun playing another unidentifiable oldies song. “You need a room?"

"Yes, please."

"Sure, let's go out here."

He held the door open, and she preceded him into the lobby. Going behind the desk, he opened a registration book and slid it to her. “Your name and address, please.” On the wall behind him hung a cork board with several hooks that held keys with paper tags numbered from one through fifty. Some of the hooks held two keys while others held just one. Those surely couldn’t be the room keys…

She brought her gaze back to him. “So, do you always check guests in the old-school way, or are you keeping it real for the vintage car show?”

His brows drew together. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, motels usually have computers, and you’re using a…”

His expression grew more bewildered. “Why would we have a computer and how could we possibly afford one?”

She chuckled in disbelief. “Why, you’d need one because…” She paused. She was too tired, too frazzled to deal with this. She just wanted to get a bite to eat and relax. “Never mind. What town am I in?”

“Haddon.”

She sighed in relief. “Good. That’s where I need to be.”

He gave a disarming grin. “No one needs to be in Haddon.”

She laughed. “Well, you might say I’m on a mission.”

“Ah, a beautiful woman on a secret mission? Intriguing.” He winked. With that one gesture, her irritation melted, her insides warmed, and a feeling bordering on giddiness rose inside her. Were those actually butterflies in her stomach? That hadn’t happened in a very long time. This guy might be odd, but he was most definitely hot…and charismatic. Nothing wrong with a little flirtation. 

“You need my card and ID, right?”

“No ID necessary...” He peered at where she’d written her information. “Lorelei. I’m Neil, by the way. Let me know if you need anything at all while you’re here.”

“You don’t need a card for the room?”

He took a key from the board behind him. “A card for the room…?”

“Yes, you know, for payment.”

“Oh, you mean a Diner’s Club card? No, we aren’t set up for that. You can pay with check or cash when you leave.”

Her head spun with confusion. Diner’s Club? Was that still around? They took checks? “You don’t need a card for incidentals?”

He handed her the key. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I can safely say no.”

What was with this guy? He had intelligent eyes, a confident air, but he was really, really dumb. How was he able to tie his shoes, let alone run a motel?

“Is there somewhere I can get some food?” She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, not wanting to stop in the blizzard, and her stomach was vehemently reminding her she’d been ignoring it.

“Sure. I can lug your bags to your room, and if you’ll go back to the bar, Dot will take your order. I’ll be down soon to make it.”

“Thank you.” She assumed Dot was the young woman decorating the tables. So, he was the cook…maybe he wasn’t supposed to be checking guests in. Whatever, she was hungry and tired, and if he’d feed her and get her a bed for the night, she didn’t care if he was a ninja assassin.

~*~

Half an hour later, Neil was placing a cheeseburger and side salad in front of her on the bar. She’d wanted to go all in and have the fries, but she decided to semi-concede to a healthy diet. They didn’t have a wide variety to choose from—burgers, salads, fries, onion rings, and chicken fried steak.

She took a bite of the burger. Tasty. Maybe she’d survive this place after all.

The jukebox had been going steadily the entire time she’d been eating and finally played a song she recognized—“Heartbreak Hotel.”

Neil was refilling her iced tea, and he nodded toward the jukebox. “You know, that guy is going to be a big deal some day.”

Lorelei laughed. "Oh, you think so?"

His expression remained serious. "Yeah, he's boss.”

"Wow, you're really committed to this…vintage car show thing or whatever is going on here."

He chuckled and shook his head. “You know, I don’t have any idea what you’re saying half the time, but you seem like a sweet girl, and you’re easy on the eyes, so that’s cool.”

He didn’t understand her? Unbelievable. Had she ended up in some Twilight Zone, or was he touched in the head? Of course, the first hot, charming guy she’d met in years would be an addle-brained Norman Bates clone. She needed to get the message delivered to John Whitten and get back home, ASAP.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a John Whitten, would you?”

Surprise lit his silvery eyes. "He's my brother. How do you know him?"

"I don't. I just...want to meet him."

"He has a girlfriend." He gestured to Dot, who was sitting at the other end of the bar, chatting with a middle-aged woman. “He and Dot have been going steady for over a year.”

Going steady… She loved the authenticity of the fifties lingo. Nice touch. “Oh, I'm not interested in him romantically. I have a message for him."

"He's at work, but he’ll be around tomorrow. We both live here at the motel. We’re having a Christmas bash tomorrow evening, you’re welcome to come."

"That’s very kind of you, thank you.” She had no desire to attend and hadn’t packed any party wear, but she might need that opportunity to connect with John. “Can I get the check?”

“Sure, I’ll get Dot.” He moved away to tend to another customer, signaling to Dot with his hand

Dot came over with the check. She was about Lorelei’s age, pretty, with auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I love your outfit,” Dot whispered. “Though I’m not brave enough to wear something like that. I’ve never seen such tight slacks before.” She wore a floral, full-skirted dress with three quarter length sleeves and a Peter Pan collar.

Lorelei grinned uncertainly. “Thank you…” I think. What a strange compliment-slash-insult. Lorelei wore black leggings and a red sweater with short boots. Nothing shocking in the least.

The check, however, was shocking. Seventy-five cents? That was impossible. “Excuse me,” she said to Dot. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

Dot had been walking away, and she turned back, her manner distracted and harried. “What’s the problem?”

“You charged me seventy-five cents, did you mean seven-fifty, or…?” Even seven-fifty would be cheap, but seventy-five cents? Preposterous.

“No, that’s right.”

Two of the tables were now occupied, and a thin man wearing a suit was waving at Dot. “I gotta go. If you have a problem with the bill, you’ll need to see Neil.” She rushed off.

Something wasn't right. Lorelei twisted the large ring around her finger. An unsettled feeling had been forming in her stomach and now it grew to mass proportions. If the storm of the century wasn't raging outside, she'd scrap this nutty plan and head back home…tell Dorothy she couldn't find John, and she’d have to die without her one wish fulfilled… Yeah, right. Like she could do that. She was already here. Might as well see it through.

All she had to do was give Dorothy’s message to John…and it had to be before Christmas Day. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, so it was her only chance. Dorothy wanted Lorelei to tell John that she was sorry, and if she'd known how things would turn out, she never would have hurt him like that. That he was the best man she’d ever known and life without him had no meaning.  

It was weird, it sounded like a declaration of love, but surely Neil’s brother hadn't had a romance with the much older woman. Perhaps he was a grandson? Lorelei had asked Dorothy why she couldn't call him and tell him, or send him a letter. Dorothy had explained that he was out of her reach, and this had to be done face to face. Even though Lorelei didn’t understand it, she’d acquiesced.

She left two dollars on the bar with the check, feeling like she was stealing, and went upstairs. Her room was larger than she’d expected. There were no amenities, not even a telephone, let alone a TV. No matter, she didn’t plan to watch television, and she had her cell—although so far, she hadn’t been able to get a signal when she’d tried to call Dorothy to tell her she’d made it. She’d get this odd task completed and get the hell out of Crazy Town. Too tired to unpack, she dug out her toothbrush and pajamas, took a quick shower, and dropped into the comfortable bed, falling asleep immediately.

~*~

The next morning, she awoke, feeling rested…but still uneasy. Hopefully, she’d be able to deliver her message before the party and head home. She pulled jeans and a shirt from her bag. When she unfolded the jeans, an unfamiliar envelope tumbled out. She frowned in confusion and picked it up.

Inside, she found a single sheet of paper with a note in Dorothy’s handwriting, and a tattered newspaper article from the Haddon Herald. The article’s headline read, “TRAGIC SINGLE-CAR ACCIDENT KILLS ONE” with the sub heading, Haddon Resident Dies in Fiery Wreck. The picture accompanying it showed a man standing on a darkened roadside near a mangled car, his head buried in his hands as though he were weeping. A smaller photo was inset into that one, showing a good-looking, smiling guy, who she assumed was the victim. The date was December 26, 1956.

Her hands shook, and cold wind swept through her soul. She sensed the letter would confirm an awful truth her brain hadn’t been wanting to accept. She began to read. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

I hope you enjoyed Part 1. Please join me tomorrow for Part 2 of Once Upon a Brave Christmas

What to Give, Elvis, and Writing Tips by Alicia Dean

As usual, I didn't prepare a blog post ahead of time, procrastinator that I am. So, I thought I'd share a few things that are on my mind. 

1) Giveaways - I believe it was on our loop where there was a discussion about what to give away to readers? Someone mentioned that they'd given away a gift card and the recipient thanked them and told them they were buying Nora's books. Yes, that's a risk when you give a gift card. But then, if you give away your book, then those who are 'entering to win' have no reason to buy it. Sure, we have other books, but still, the act of giving away a book doesn't seem to be a great promo tool. I like to give away items that are representative of my book, such as, in Haunting at Spook Light Inn, a spinel pendant was part of the story. I found a reasonably priced pendant on Amazon that was similar to the one in the story and I did a few giveaways with small goodie bags that included the pendant. Did it help my sales? Who knows? But, it was a fun attention-getter. The thing is, if your book doesn't appeal to people, they aren't going to read it, buy it, and like it, regardless of what you give away. As most of you know, I have a Kindle Rafflecopter giveaway I do each month, where authors pitch in $6 each and they can submit a task they want entrants to do. It helps increase your followers, likes, etc, although, of course, that still doesn't mean entrants will buy your book. However, it does give you a bit of exposure and, if they like what they see, they'll stick around and maybe buy your books. No guarantees, but there are no guarantees in life anyway, right?

2) Anyone who knows me or is a FB friend, etc, knows how much I love Elvis Presley. Thursday was the 41st anniversary of his death. Also, December 3, 1968 is the 50th anniversary of his '68 Comeback Special, which was an iconic, critically acclaimed show and was touted as being his best performance ever. At the time the show was produced, Elvis hadn't been in front of a live audience since he left for the army in 1958. When he returned in 1960, he began making movies and was not touring. He was so nervous about being in front of an audience again, but you certainly couldn’t tell it.  The show is/was shown in movie theaters all over the country on August 16 and August 20th. My sister and I went to see it Thursday, and wow...I never get tired of it, even though I saw it IN 1968 when it was released and I was seven years old, and I've watched it countless times since. The theater, one of three in the OKC area showing it, was packed with people of all ages. I ran into one of my writer friends there. We both want to go again Monday. :) It's phenomenal that, 41 years after his death, he still has such a following. Like him or not, it can't be denied that he was one of a kind. Here's a clip from the show:

A pic I took of the screen, just because. :)

3) I ran across this blog post again, having read it a while back, and I thought I'd share. There are some fantastic tips, especially for someone like me who constantly lets other things come before my writing. 

http://positivewriter.com/36-writing-tips/

Lastly, I'd like to once again thank the Roses for your kind thoughts and the beautiful card when my mother passed. She was a special person and I was so blessed to have her for a mother. Friday evening, I saw one of my friends for the first time since Mom passed and she told me she was sorry, and that, from what everyone was saying about Mom, I'm a lot like her, I have her caring spirit and desire to help others, so I will always carry her with me. I cried, of course, but her words also gave me a warm, peaceful feeling. It’s not exactly accurate, I can’t begin to compare to the person my mother was, but it was a lovely sentiment.

Mom and I at her 79th birthday celebration

#Mentors by Diane Burton

credit: sustainablenonprofits.org

In almost every occupation, someone teaches a newbie. In some cases, the “someone” is ordered to do so by their boss. Many times, someone is willing to help. I’ve found both types. In one job I had, the person who was supposed to teach me the ropes resented it and taught me the bare minimum. In other job, a fellow employee delighted in teaching me what I needed to know to do my job.

My writing career has been an eye-opener. I cannot tell you the number of mentors I’ve had. (And if I named them, I would surely leave out someone, and I don’t want to do that.) More experienced writers shared their wisdom and knowledge when I was the newbie. People online—like the Roses here and other groups, yahoogroups like Marketing For Romance Writers, Authors Network, and more. Authors Helping Authors, an online support group started by our own Alicia Dean, strives to promote other authors. We know how hard it is to promote ourselves, and it’s so much easier to promote others. So we share tweets and Facebook posts. We invite each other to guest on our blogs. We write reviews.

Another online group I belong to is called Insecure Writer's Support Group. Since most writers are insecure, this group sums up our goal—to support each other. We “meet” once a month (like a blog hop), posting on our blogs then visiting and offering advice, commiseration, sympathy, and congratulations. This great group was started by Alex J. Cavanaugh.

Mid-Michigan RWA's Angel Award

 I’ve been fortunate to belong to the terrific Mid-Michigan chapter of Romance Writers of America, fellow writers who help each other. We offer workshops, along with “table” advice during our lunches. The best are the people who bolster the newbies. They’re never too busy to lend a hand. Our chapter recognizes those members who give exception service to the members as well as the chapter. Our own Margo Hoornstra is one of Mid-Michigan RWA’s Angels.

 

credit: fitandawesome.com

Sometimes, commiseration and sympathy aren’t enough. Sometimes, we need a kick in the rear. I’ve had that kinds of support, too. Getting down on oneself isn’t hard to do. Getting back up and starting again often takes that swift kick. A good friend, mentor, and fellow writer can do that. We know the trials and troubles another writer goes through.

  

They say what goes around comes around. When we offer support and encouragement to others, they are there to support and encourage us. Non-writers (especially those in the business world) have often wondered (in amazement) why we help our competition. Is it because we’re nice people? Well, yes. LOL But we also remember those who helped us and we’re paying it forward.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month.