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Wicked Wednesday — Trapped!

foggedinncoverWe are celebrating the release of Fogged Inn by Barbara Ross today! Here’s a bit about the book: An autumn chill has settled over Busman’s Harbor, Maine, but Julia Snowden is warming up the town by offering lobster stew at the local diner. When her landlord discovers a dead body in the walk-in refrigerator, Julia must figure out who ordered up a side of murder.

Nothing’s colder than a corpse–especially one stashed inside a sub-zero fridge. The victim spent his last night on earth dining at the restaurant bar, so naturally Julia finds herself at the center of the ensuing investigation. Lost in the November fog, however, is who’d want to kill the unidentified stranger–and why. It might have something to do with a suspicious group of retirees and a decades-old tragedy to which they’re all connected. One thing’s for sure: Julia’s going to make solving this mystery her early bird special…

A group of strangers are trapped together in Julia’s brand new restaurant. So Wickeds have you ever been trapped somewhere alone or with a group of people? What did you do? What about the people you were with?

Julie: I can’t wait to read this book! The only time I’ve been trapped is by storms here in New England. Usually, of late, I’ve been alone in my apartment. In the past, I’ve been with my family. I am overly cautious about being stuck somewhere due to weather and move to shelter as soon as they whisper “storm”. I’ve got to admit, the idea of being trapped freaks me out.

Liz: I’m with you, Julie! I’d much rather be virtually trapped in one of Barb’s books! Anxiously awaiting Julia’s newest adventure – I can’t wait to get back to Busman’s Harbor.

Edith: I’ve been trapped talking with someone who made no sense although I wasn’t really trapped, because I could say, “Oops, gotta get to a meeting!” I’ve certainly been trapped next to someone on an airplane who really, really wanted to talk with me for the whole flight. In that case I just closed my eyes until they shut up. And I felt trapped in my marriage for a few years, but I wasn’t, really. It just felt that way. I also can’t wait to read this installment, Barb! Congratulations.

Barb: My most vivid memory of being trapped was in a glass elevator with both my grandmothers at the 1964 World’s Fair in Flushing Meadow, Queens. I hadn’t known until that moment that one of my grandmothers was claustrophic and the other was acrophobic! (No wonder I’m a mess.) During that same trip, we were trapped in the Disney Small World exhibit for about 45 minutes. You haven’t been trapped until you’ve heard those animatronic youngsters sing that song twenty times. I thought my unsentimental parents, who had to be talked into going on the ride in the first place, were going to lose their minds. Years later, taking my own kids on the same ride at Disney World, I experienced flashbacks.

Sherry: I’ve been trapped in the house a couple of times during tropical storms. But I think my scariest experience was during college when a friend and I were driving down Interstate 80 around 10:00 pm and my car broke down. There were no cell phones back then or hazards lights on my 1965 Rambler. We were far from any exits and could only see the lights of one house far across a field. Oh, and it was winter. Every time a semi went by it shook the whole car so we got out and stood on the side of the road. Finally a van pulled over. We were happy and scared. It was a bunch of obviously high guys who were going to a concert in the next town. I gave them ten bucks and asked them to stop at a gas station and send a tow truck. Happily, they did!

Jessie: Like Sherry, my only trapped situations involved a vehicle. Once, I broke down on the side of the highway. I had a job in a retail store 52 miles from my home and it happened after my 11 pm closing shift on a Black Friday. Yes, the day after Thanksgiving. I was wearing all black, a pair of heels and had no warm coat or cell phone. I sat in my car with my hazard lights on for about 45 minutes hoping a police car would stop before I decided to walk to the tollbooth. I had gone only a few feet when a car pulled over and offered me a ride. The driver said it was seven miles to the toll booth. I sent out a little shout to the universe that a sign the guy was a serial killer would be appreciated. When none appeared I climbed in and pressed myself against the door, ready to throw myself out if things got creepy. As it happened, the driver was a really nice man who ended up driving me all the way home. I’ve never left home without a pair of walking shoes and a coat again.

Readers: Have you ever been trapped? How did you deal with it? Let us know!

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