Flinging Trees and Flying Cars, oh my!

Hi Readers,

Thank you for joining us for our continuing Nor’easter Adventure and thank you for the birthday wishes. You made our scribe’s day. Melinda’s grateful for all the birthday wishes. So thank you for making her smile. 🙂

By now you must have guessed this is Ran, son of Sarn, your host this week.

Before we find out who prevailed–a storm or your favorite father and son team–we’d like to announce our first ever boxed set is coming soon. We’ll talk more about that next week because we have a bit of a dilemma. We might need your help to sort it out. Stay tuned.

Now back to our continuing adventure. Papa’s about to do something magically awesome. (If you need a refresher, check out part one and part two. I’ll wait.)

Who will prevail–a bunch of lovable fictional characters or the storm? 🙂

Fictional Characters vs the Nor’easter, Round 3

“I don’t know this area of town well,” Melinda, our scribe said, as she stared at the sea of taillights in dejection. “I just know where the highway is.”

A frowned creased Papa’s face. I nudged him. We sat in the back seat because that’s where children under a certain age and height belong. Since Papa likes to keep me within arm’s reach, he crammed himself in beside me.

“What does your map say?”

“We need to get out of here.”

Papa had the magical equivalent of GPS only better because it wasn’t dependent on a satellite thingy. Papa could plug into Mother Earth herself for directions and she’s never wrong. Unfortunately, his map lives inside his head where only he can see it. So Melinda and I were stuck waiting for a response.

I elbowed Papa again. The building next to us did a drunken wiggle and things flew off its roof. Those projectiles might be harmless, but I didn’t want to find out.

Before I could ask again, Papa pulled off his boot and sock, shoved open the car door and stomped on the asphalt. Magic surged out of his barefoot in a sparkling green wedge, parting the cars in front of us.

“Go now. Floor it!”

Papa shut the door right before we shot through two red lights.

“Turn here.” Papa pointed at the approaching intersection.

Melinda nodded and spun the wheel. “I guess we’re taking the interstate?”

“If that’s the next left then yes.”

“It is. Hold on. The entrance ramp has a sharp curve. You’re both wearing seatbelts, right?”

I gave Melinda a thumbs-up and saw her nod in the rearview mirror. Then I was thrown against Papa, who was so tall, he didn’t budge because he was too tightly wedged into the back seat.

We careened onto a three-lane road with even lighter traffic. While the world slid by in a gray blur, I yawned and leaned my head against Papa’s side, figuring the adventure portion was over for a little while. He put an arm around me and I drifted off until I heard the one thing I’d been dreading.

“That warning light’s on again. The tire must be low.” Melinda slapped the steering wheel in frustration.

“I can fill it.” I lifted the compressor from the footwell. I knew it would come in handy.

“Not here. There’s nowhere to pull over and there won’t be until we reach the Sprain.”

“How far is that?”

Papa’s map didn’t include place names. Melinda shook her head.

“I’m not sure. Maybe ten or twelve miles? It might be more.”

“What if the tire goes flat?” I asked around a yawn. Papa made a warm pillow and his arm holding me tight made me feel safe–until the wind shook the car.

Melinda took evasive maneuvers, but we went into a skid.

“Hold on! We’re hydroplaning. That puddle must be deeper than I thought.”

I hugged Papa and he clamped me against his side. Magic pushed through his clothes and rolled over me. I patted it, but it wouldn’t go away.

“You have to go back in. Magic and cars don’t mix well,” I whispered.

But Papa’s magic refused to recede no matter what assurances I gave until the car screeched to a halt.

“Oh, that’s not good. Why can’t we catch a break?”

I leaned over Papa’s leg, but I was too short to see over the dashboard while seated. When I reached for the buckle, magic shoved my hands away. Blue and white lights flashed behind us and a siren sounded in the distance.

“What is it?”

“A tree fell and it’s blocking the road. Can you–?”

Before Melinda finished the question, Papa flung open the door and set his barefoot on the asphalt. I leaned across him and goggled at the huge tree. Our scribe’s car had ended its skid with its nose at a forty-five-degree angle to it. We were also blocking traffic but that was okay since no cars could get by anyway.

Green light rushed out of Papa’s foot and slammed into the tree, lifting it off the road and onto the narrow shoulder. Papa shut the door.


“What about the tire?”

I held up the compressor again then had to set it down when the car veered right, throwing me against Papa. Rain drummed on the roof. The storm wasn’t finished with us yet.

“We’ll fix that later. I have an idea.”

“Is that a barrier ahead? I can’t tell through the rain.”

“Just keep driving. Let me worry about the barrier.”

Except Papa didn’t look worried at all. He leaned between the seats, blocking my view. Yellow caution lights strobed through the car then green light sparred with it as the car rose.

I stared at Papa. Sweat beaded his brow and a vein pulsed.  In his lap, his hands opened and closed convulsively, and he blinked like his eyes wouldn’t focus.

“Are we flying?”

“I think we are.” I met Melinda’s shocked eyes in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Papa shook his head. He hadn’t known either. When the car landed, Papa slumped in his seat, pale, shaking and breathing in ragged gasps.

I shook his arm and his head lolled. “No more magic.”

Papa gave me a faint nod then his eyes rolled up in his head and he seized.

“Papa!” I clung to his thrashing arm. The car slowed. “No, keep going. Please just get us home.”

“Okay. You stay with him and hold on. There’s some water in my bag. When he comes around, you should both have some. It should be behind my seat in the footwell.”

I met her gaze in the mirror. We exchanged nods and Melinda ignored the blinking yellow light on her dashboard and floored it.

As we peeled out, I hoped the tire would hold up to the added stress. It must hold. Papa had worked so much magic, each violent spasm knocked his aura down a notch until it barely glowed at all. When he finally lapsed into unconsciousness, I burrowed into his side and listened for that all-important heartbeat.

I gripped the air compressor. Did it work on people?

I wiped tears from my eyes. I didn’t want to find out.

“Come back to me, Papa. I need you.”

Looking for more action and adventure?

Check out our book-length adventures in a higher fantasy, more magical and mayhem-packed world than yours.

Our harrowing escape must continue next week because our scribe has a hard word limit and I exceeded it again. You forgive me, right?

Deals, Giveaways & Other Cool Stuff

Coming soon!6x9 Full Cover 5 (1)

We’re looking good, right? 😉

Until next time, dear reader

This is Ran, son of Sarn, “Back seat driver” wishing you a great week!


Here’s your rundown:

  • Our scribe was trapped in a tower in New Rochelle. We got her out, faced down a flat tire, celebrated our scribe’s birthday and redecorated her apartment in cocoa powder. True story.
  • This week, Papa threw his magic around, rearranging the world to enhance our escape.
  • We’re releasing a boxed set! It has an epic cover. And we might need you help us decide something regarding our boxed set.
  • Missed an episode? Check out our past shenanigans here.
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