Hello readers! Thank you for joining me here today. I’m Rissa Blakeley, master of sarcasm, author of the post apocalypse saga, Shattered Lives, featuring a paranormal twist. My current published works include Broken Dreams, Awakened Desires, Fractured Hearts and coming on December 15th, Blind Faith and A Little Taste of Naughty, a short story that was originally published in the best-selling anthology, Just Desserts.
I’m a coffee addict, La Croix addict… I obsessively play songs on repeat. When I’m not writing, I live a full life of naps with my lazy dogs, watch my cats live up to their Harry Potter namesakes, speak in movie quotes and song lyrics with my 13 year old Emo-Girl and make some really terrible jokes trying to make my husband laugh.
Currently, my family and I reside just outside of Atlanta, Georgia, but we were born and raised in central New York! While I am glad to be rid of the snow (for the most part), I do miss it during the holidays. It always was nice to have snow around Christmas. You don’t really get that same Christmasy feel here in the south without rosy cheeks, ice boogers, frozen pant legs, boots full of a salt/slush mix, and having to wear so much winter gear, you feel like the little brother, Randy, from The Christmas Story.
“I can’t put my arms down!” -Randy
One thing I miss…snowball fights. I always lost. Always. Mostly, we would get that heavy wet ‘heart attack’ snow. You know the kind. When shoveling the driveway, you can barely lift it. My brother would pack these heavy, icy snowballs and would never miss hitting me with them. While it was torturous, it was fun. When we would finally go inside, the skin on our legs was bright red and burning. Let’s not forget the hot cocoa and frosted sugar cookies!
When my husband and I were dating and started living together, we turned the tables of the traditional snowball fight. We would try to outsmart each other and hit the other with the first snowball of the year. It started outdoors then we upped the ante and starting getting each other in the house. I rose the bar even more and started getting him while he was in the shower.
In my first book, Broken Dreams, I wrote a snowball fight scene. While I felt it was a bit cheesy, it was a fun scene to write.
It had only been a couple months into since the apocalypse and they are planning to move south to avoid the snow and wintery weather New York brings. Well… The snow beat them.
It was a heavy, wet snow. I had a moment of pause, then I grinned. I thought about all the snowball fights and sledding trips Nick and I had taken. Mom and Dad would take us skiing in the Catskills. We would stay in lodges, roast marshmallows, and drink hot cocoa into the night. I felt a sudden playfulness rush through me.
I bent down and made a nice heavy snowball, squeezing it tight, and smoothing any bumps. Then I threw it, hitting Nick right in the back of his leg while he was helping Henry load the truck.
“Hey! What the…?” They turned around and saw me grinning from ear to ear. “You little bitch!” Nick yelled. He and Henry started making and throwing snowballs at me while I dodged them. I ran behind the big maple tree in the front yard. Every time I peeked out, one of them would just miss me.
“And you call yourself a sharpshooter, Henry?!” I shouted playfully from behind the safety of the tree.
“Quit being a chicken and come on out!” Henry yelled. I saw Claire and Thomas come out of the house. I waved Claire over, and she ran to join me. Naturally, Thomas joined Henry and Nick. Both Claire and I were getting pelted left and right. We didn’t care. We were laughing so hard.
Sophie finally decided to grace us with her presence. She walked across the yard in my mother’s best fur, not a single snowball hitting her. It was like she parted the seas. She joined us in our pursuit of defeating the men.
I saw Henry stop, listening. He held his arm up for the rest of us to be quiet. Then I heard it. “Is that a plane?” I asked.
We were all looking at the sky. It was hard to see with all the snow coming down, but the sound was getting increasingly closer. All of us were motionless. I felt a moment of excitement.
“Henry! Maybe there’s help coming! Maybe there are other places in the States that aren’t infected! Maybe we should drive to the airport!”
“No. That can’t be it or they would have flown over ages ago.” Henry listened closely. “That’s a military jet.”
“That’s good news then, right? Maybe they’re looking for survivors.” Claire was trying to sound positive, but she felt the same unsure feelings that Henry had. Then we heard an explosion and felt the ground rumble. Another plane flew overhead.
“Come on! Let’s roll! We need to get the hell out of here!” Henry and Nick ran around, getting the trucks packed.
I ran to him. “What’s going on?” I said, panicking.
“Whoever is flying those planes…they are bombing!”
“But what about survivors?”
Henry grabbed my arms, shaking me. “They don’t care, Elaina!”
Broken Dreams (Shattered Lives, Book One) by Rissa Blakeley © 2014
The Shattered Lives Series:
A Little Taste of Naughty (Releases 12/15)
Blind Faith (Releases 12/15)
Available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.