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Holiday Hostage
Kelly Fitzpatrick  What It's AboutHoliday Hostage Kelly Fitzpatrick Holly has just finished up a grueling day as Mrs. Santa at the mall. She’s in no mood to spend the Christmas Eve holiday with her kooky sister, her sister’s new boyfriend, his zany family or her sister’s boyfriend’s single brother. Being kidnapped to do just that wouldn’t be her second choice. Ryan has cut ties with his criminally inclined family after they robbed the bank he worked at, causing him to lose his job. He especially doesn’t care to be fixed up against his will with his brother’s ditsy new girlfriend’s sister. Until he comes face to face with her. Share:
               The ExcerptAn Excerpt From: HOLIDAY HOSTAGE Copyright © KELLY FITZPATRICK, 2011 All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. Chapter One Ho, ho, ho down
Holly Nash flipped open her buzzing cell phone. My sister. She groaned. “Merry Christmas,” Holly said cheerfully, even including a fake smile. Bogus holiday spirit equals get off phone, hop in car and crawl in bed until New Year’s all that much sooner. “I’m a ho, you’re a ho, everyone’s a ho, ho, ho.” Her curly toed shoes jingled along with the jingle she sang into the phone as she left the main entrance of the mall. Looking both ways, she headed for her car in the outfield of the parking lot. “Happy holiday, sis.” For you maybe. Her sisterLydia wasn’t unemployed. Well, she was, but she hadn’t been forced by the Nazi at the unemployment office to take a seasonal job dressing up like Mrs. Claus, wearing a costume one size too small and smiling at mall brats while feigning total devotion to an old fat guy who had crumbs in his beard and smelled of cough medicine. She also hadn’t been saddled with a first name synonymous not only with Christmas, but also prickliness. “The answer is no,” Holly said. “No what?”Lydiasaid. “I haven’t even asked you anything. I’m simply calling to wish you a very merry Christmas and a happy New—” “The answer is still no.” Holly spotted her car across the lot as dusk descended. A chill seeped into the fabric of her surprisingly thin work costume, settling on her skin. She smelled snow in the air. Should have worn a coat. “Stop it,” her sister said, complete with a hand wave Holly could see in her mind’s eye. “You can’t borrow my car, my clothes, or any money,” Holly listed. What am I forgetting? “My couch is off limits. I do not want to pose naked in Playboy with you in their sisters pictorial. I cut up my credit card, closed my bank account and haven’t gotten my paycheck yet, so don’t ask.” “I don’t want anything…except…” Here it comes. “…to see you for Christmas,”Lydiafinished. And pick my pockets, borrow my jewelry, pawn my electronics or all of the above. “No.” Lydiagiggled. “I’d love for you to meet my new boyfriend, Joe.” “No.” “Joe’s family,” she added. “No.” “Joe’s brother in particular.” “No.” Holly reached her car, jamming the key in the lock. Once it was unlocked, she leaned against the car to finish telling her sister not only no, but hell no. The last time her sister set her up with a blind date, the guy only wanted to add her to his stable of Amway representatives. “You two are perfect for each other,”Lydiasang. Says you. “No.” “Joe’s mom is heating up a HoneyBaked Ham for Christmas Eve dinner,” she said, playing on Holly’s weakness for sugarcoated meat. “Yams with marshmallows.” And sugarcoated spuds. “Ambrosia.” Joe’s mother sounded like a woman after Holly’s own heart. Throw a marshmallow on it or in it and call it a dinner and dessert combo. Holly hesitated only for a second. “No.” Joe was undoubtedly a football-watching, beer-belching crotch scratcher. Chances were good the brother was too. No thanks. And somehow, some way, the entire ordeal would end up costing Holly in either money, which she had little of, or sanity, which she was running short of as well. “Are you sure?”Lydiagiggled. “Last chance to come along peacefully.” “I’m sure.” So sure that Holly hung up on her sister. Since learning to speak at the age of two,Lydiawould not, could not take no for an answer. Turning one’s phone off was the only solution. So Holly did, tossing it onto the passenger seat of her car. A van came from nowhere, screeching to a stop in the parking space next to hers. Holly stepped forward and opened her mouth to give the driver a piece of her mind. Last-minute Christmas shopping was no excuse for poor parking etiquette. Before she could voice her protest, the side door of the van slid open. A midget jumped out and zip tied her hands in front of her. Holly squeaked a protest, struggling against the ties. The little person stepped aside and someone shoved Holly from behind into the van. Holly landed on a soft-but-solid lump. She struggled against the restraints and the bile rising in her throat. The midget said, “Bye-bye”, including a little finger wave, before slamming the door shut. She rocked against the lump, which breathed warmth against her neck in the otherwise cold van. “Hey! What’s the deal?” She kicked her foot against the hard barrier between her and the cab of the van as they motored off. The joyful jingle of her shoes negated the fury of her actions. “Don’t waste your breath,” the lump said. “I’ve been protesting for twenty minutes.” Holly squirmed away from the baritone voice and his warmth. Why, she wasn’t sure. Seemed they were in the same boat, so to speak. “Careful,” he said when she butted up against a stack of boxes. “Who are you?” She rolled into him as the van made a sharp turn. His breath smelled of peppermint. His voice dripped of syrupy calm despite the dire circumstances. “What is going on?” “I’m Ryan.” He hooked his finger around hers in a how-do-you-do-nice-to-meet-you finger shake. “I think we’re being held against our will.” “The hell we are.” Holly began gnawing at her restraints. Share:
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The Ruby Slippered Sisterhood
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