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Christmas in Love: A Flash Fiction Anthology
Christmas in Love: A Flash Fiction Anthology
Christmas in Love: A Flash Fiction Anthology
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Christmas in Love: A Flash Fiction Anthology

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From an unexpected twist on a classic Christmas tale and a soldier returning home from war to a pair of girls waiting for an unlikely Christmas wish to come true and a creepy evening in a museum, fill your briefest moments with this collection of 18 flash fiction stories.

Commuting to work? Grabbing a quick coffee? Each story tells a complete tale in but a few short minutes with the added promise of a lifelong introduction to new indie writers.

You never know, you might just find your next favorite author.

Christmas in Love, the third anthology in the Flash Flood series, is a hand-picked selection of master works in romance, science fiction and fantasy themed for Christmas and guaranteed to keep you engaged.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 14, 2016
ISBN9781941939130
Christmas in Love: A Flash Fiction Anthology
Author

George Donnelly

Growing up in Pennsylvania in the 1980s, I was given the apple-pie routine. America is great. America is free. The land of opportunity. All is well or soon will be. But then I went to high school in inner-city Philadelphia and college on the south side of Chicago. Everything wasn’t alright. America is not free. I’ve been a rebel my whole life. I became a troublemaker when Catholic grade school bored me. I published a broadsheet attack on administrative oppression at my Philadelphia public high school. I left a Chicago loop 67th floor bank job to drive a cab. I left the United States, too. When I came back, I was arrested, beaten and thrown into federal prison by US Marshals for exposing their abuse. Then I fomented an international uproar over airport grope-downs. I was even accused of being a terrorist on network TV.

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    Book preview

    Christmas in Love - George Donnelly

    Part I

    Romance

    A Tale of Two Magis

    Carmilla Cross - Romantic Comedy

    Tayler had finally reached her breaking point – on December the 24 th, no less.

    Brant was not going to be able to make it home for Christmas.

    She was in New York – cold, gray and decidedly not snowy – while Brant was in chilly yet sunny California. Of course, Brant was supposed to be living in the Big Apple with her, but due to the demands of his job, he had to go all the way across the country for six months – and it hadn’t even been two yet.

    Tayler's longing for him reached manic levels, especially during their video chats. It became worse after she got back from the early Christmas dinner at her parents barely five days ago.

    Mom, how did you know dad was the one? Tayler blurted out as she sliced the pumpkin cheesecake pie her mom always baked during the holidays.

    Her mom gazed at her tenderly and smiled. When I realized I just couldn't make it through the day without him.

    And that's how I got her to marry me! Her dad sauntered into the kitchen and eyed the slices. Honey, did you put a little bourbon into that sinful looking pie?

    Yes, and only because I know you'd gobble it up. Her mom giggled as her dad swooped in for a kiss.

    Oh you guys, Tayler said, mock-averting her eyes from the sight. Get a room!

    Oh shush, darling, her mom replied. You'll be the same way once you and Brant are married!

    Yeah, and when's that wedding, honeybug? Her dad said. And just when exactly is he moving back to New York?

    Tayler decided to skip more ugly crying over missing Brant and do something incredibly stupid.

    She got on a plane to California.

    It had taken all of her current paycheck to score a seat in third class, which was a miracle in itself. It was hot, and there was a rancid smell from whoever had taken their shoes off, but all of it was nothing compared to how surprised Brant would be!

    When she finally reached his apartment address and knocked, she allowed herself one small, nervous smile and hoped he wouldn’t be too upset.

    Eric, Brant’s roommate, opened the door and froze in place when he saw her.

    Tayler's heart sank. Hey. Sorry, I think we’ve only seen each other over the webcam. This is kind of weird, huh?

    Eric didn’t say anything. Tayler lifted her arm that wasn’t carrying her duffel bag in a pathetic little wave. Um, if it isn’t good for you guys right now, I’ll, um, stay at a hotel and come back later...

    No! Eric blurted out. "Uh, Tayler. Does Brant know you’re here?"

    No, Tayler replied in a small voice. Behind him, she saw a gorgeous raven-haired girl peer curiously at her.

    Eric swore and ran his hand roughly over his face. Ah, come in for now, and we'll fire up the laptop.

    She followed Eric inside, waving weakly to the girl on the couch, who similarly froze as Eric murmured that Tayler was there to see Brant. She gasped, and gave Tayler a sympathetic look.

    What if he’s cheating on me? Tayler wondered, her heart pretty much broken at that point.

    Brant’s room smelled just like him, faintly of coffee, his favorite cologne and holiday cookies. She saw a picture of the two of them on the dresser. It was also the first one that was taken of her wearing the 18th century antique style diamond engagement ring he slipped on her finger when he proposed. So he wasn't cheating then, but what was she missing?

    Eric managed to connect, and a slightly distorted but familiar voice came through.

    "Hello? Eric?" Brant sounded incredibly bewildered. What’s wrong? Why did you call?

    Tayler drifted into the frame behind Eric, waving at the screen. Brant was there, his brown hair tousled, huge bags under his eyes, which widened to the size of dinner plates. By the jostling of the camera, it seemed like he had been walking, but now he stopped, staring at her through the screen.

    "Tay?"

    Surprise! Tayler said, feeling like crying again. Um, I thought – since we've always spent Christmas together–

    Oh no, honey, don’t cry, Brant replied quickly. He looked like he was on the verge of tears himself as he moved aside on the screen, gulping hard. Um, I’m in JFK.

    What?

    I’m in New York, he said. Just arrived at the airport. I was planning to catch a cab to your place, but, uh... He forced a grin. Merry Christmas!

    Merry Christmas, Tayler sobbed in spite of herself. After a moment, she burst into hysterical laughter. Wow, ugh, yeah... Merry Christmas, darling! So, what now? She giggled. We’re idiots!

    Brant chuckled, pressing his forehead against his phone. Well, uh, for right now, you can continue interrupting my cousin and his girlfriend...I’ll try to be there with you as soon as I can.

    Don’t worry, Tayler said, smiling. Even if we’re not together, there’s always the Internet! It’ll work out.

    He pressed his finger on the screen, and Tayler pressed hers against it.

    Sighing at their predicament, Eric closed the door to give them some privacy, but not before he managed to get in one last, snide remark.

    Gosh, you guys. Ever heard of Google calendars?


    Carmilla knew she would write a lot about love and the paranormal once she discovered young adult paranormal romances. She dreams of the day when she will have any or all of her works striking a massive chord with readers and fans everywhere. Then just maybe, they will also get to have successful movie and TV shows of their own. Find her books and get on her mailing list at moonrise-by-carmilla-cross.tumblr.com.

    I'll Be Home for Christmas

    Alexa Kang - Historical Romance

    In the staff's dorm car, Evelyn jerked awake to the chugging sounds of the train, surprised to find that she had fallen asleep. The day-old December 23, 1944 copy of the New York Times she had been reading slipped from her lap, its headline reporting the Germans' sweeping retreat through Luxembourg.

    Quickly, she checked her watch. Quarter to five in the morning. Thank goodness. She had only dozed off for a moment but her break was over. She picked the newspaper off the floor and hurried back to the grill car. The Broadway Limited was the Pennsylvania Railroad's premier sleeper train from New York to Chicago. The dining car steward would have a fit if she was tardy.

    In the empty grill car, Agnes, her co-worker, was refilling the salt and pepper shakers. Oh good, you're back. My turn to take a break. We should arrive at Fort Wayne in half an hour. She wiped her hands and

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