Tumble through time…
EXCERPTS: A St. Patrick's Day Tale
Star Crossed
Christine Young
Ireland
1816
The ring of knuckles hitting flesh thundered
through the brilliant spring morning. Casey O'Connell lifted her skirts and
raced up the little knoll behind the old white church. She knew her big bro was
fighting. They always fought after church on Sunday. For the life of her, she
couldn't figure out why.
"No! Stop it, I say. Patrick O'Connell,
you--" Breathing hard Casey barreled through the ring of brawling men.
"Of course, Casey, anything you say,"
her brother and his friends laughed as he stepped aside.
"Get him, Casey! Land a punch for your big
brother and St. Patrick," one of the young men called out.
"The O'Connell's are getting their women
folk to fight their battles now?"
"I'll have your head for that,
Shaunasey," another joined in.
"Watch your mouth and where you're a
starin' or you'll have a black eye so swollen you won't be able to see."
"Woo--eee!" The brawl escalated then
seemed to settle around Casey and her off-balance charge through her brother's
foes.
Surrounding her she heard raucous cheers, cat
calls, and whistles as well as her name. Her arms flailing, she ignored them
all and tried desperately to keep her balance.
"Hmph!" She hit hard--a solid rock of
muscle--heard the slightest grunt from the object in front of her. Air rushed
from her lungs and stars seemed to circle inside her head.
"Oh…" she wailed as the object she hit
cradled her with his arms on their way to the dampness of the ground below.
Dizziness overwhelmed her. She let her head rest on a muscled chest. She heard
a slow even heartbeat then a low rumble of laugher.
Meadows
of Gold
C.L.
Kraemer
A gentle breeze sighed, undulating the
meadow grass lazily and whispering past the forlorn figure slumped on the tree
trunk, hands clasped tightly in his lap. Thomas, a forest leprechaun, released
a long melancholy breath between his cracked, dry lips. A single plump tear
meandered down his stubbled cheek.
The sun sent bright shafts of light through
the pine boughs and around the wooden pedestal upon which the morose figure
resided. Ignoring the dancing beams, the leprechaun pulled a shuddered breath
into his lungs and stared at a spot in front of the stump where a crumpled
daisy chain necklace lay withering in the warmth of the afternoon. Another
plump tear snaked down his unshaven face.
In the distance, a lone figure scuffed up
the lane, which crossed in front of the tree stump. Thomas paid no heed to the
approaching form, pulling a thin silver flask from inside his rumpled vest. He
blindly opened the lid, placed the opened top to his lips and pulled a deep
draught from the container. Refitting the cap to the top, he slipped the silver
spirit holder back into his vest. His next shuddered breath was interrupted
with a hiccup.
The figure on the road drew closer. Thomas
raised his head and squinted his eyes. Was
she coming back? He hiccupped and straightened up. Maybe she had been
teasing him when she ran away and now she realized how much he cared for her.
His eyes brightened and a smile began to touch his lips.
The figure came around the bend and toward
him. The last he'd seen her, she was wearing a diaphanous, thin dress. Had she
changed? The form nearing him was clad in leather breeches, a braided leather
tunic, and knee-high, soft leather boots. A sword blade strapped to the
figure's back flashed in the sunlight. Was Cary so angry she meant to cut him
in little pieces? His heart began to pound in his chest and inside his mouth
his tongue stuck to the roof.
The figure stopped two lengths from him
and raised a hand to shade its eyes from the brightness of the day.
Thomas realized he was shaking. This was
it…his life was over. He hung his head.
"Thomas?"
The voice was familiar but it didn't sound
like Cary. If it wasn't her…
St. Batzy and the Time Machine
Genene Valleau
Horace Ainsworth patted the side of the giant red fire hydrant towering
two stories above him then addressed the terrier mix dog staring at him
curiously. "It's finished. Now don't you dig in my Maddie's roses any more
or potty on the pansies."
Batzy stared at Horace's retreating back for a moment before he hiked
his leg on the nearest flowering plant.
Then he turned his attention to the odd-looking structure the Big Human
had erected. Not like any fire hydrant he'd ever sniffed. A canine would have
to be the size of King Kong to give this thing a proper marking.
Though it did smell like the water that sprayed out of the hose when the
human across the street yelled at him. Batzy grinned and lifted his leg,
imagining he was returning the spray of the yelling human.
As he circled this mysterious structure, the smell of fresh paint and
overturned earth drifted into his nostrils. It was bigger than the
merry-go-round at the park where his human, Chloe, sometimes took him.
Wonder what's inside?
Batzy scratched at the side of the structure then trotted another few
steps and scratched again. About halfway around he found an opening. Not tall
enough for the Big Human, but just about perfect for his
little girl, Chloe. Batzy darted inside and lifted his face to sample
the aromas.
No scents of danger but much to explore. Like this box of dirt. Odd. Big
humans usually didn't appreciate the joys of digging. Hadn't he just been told
not to dig in the rose bushes? A sniff and a poke with his paw uncovered a bone.
Fresh out of the package. Batzy looked around. What game was the Big Human
playing?
"Batzy!" his little girl was calling him.
Batzy stepped out of the digging pit. Hmm. I smell peanut butter.
He put a front paw on a cabinet for balance and
nosed a button. A bone-shaped treat fell into a bowl below. Also fresh out of a
package. The Big Human was definitely up to something. Batzy gobbled it down
quickly before looking around again.
"Batzy!"
Drat! He had to go. On his way out, Batzy stepped back into the digging box
and snatched up the bone. Outside once again, he pushed the bone through the
gap under the fence, and squeezed through after it.
He popped up on the other side with
only a few more streaks of mud on the white of his belly and wagged his tail at
Chloe. He'd go back to explore the Big Human's structure later.
OTHER ANTHOLOGIES:
Buy at:
May Day has been celebrated
since Roman times with dancing, baskets of flowers, and bonfires. In this
collection of May Day stories, Rogue's Angels--Christine Young, C.L. Kraemer,
Rosemary Indra and Genie Gabriel--continue the celebration with humor, faeries
and falling in love.
Highland Miracle --
Christine Young
HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean
Michael Sterling, landed in the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t
understand, assuming the role of Laird Sterling.
ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF
NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches for a way out of her half brother’s house.
Defying the Odds -- C.L.
Kraemer
The night elves on the hill
aren't happy without their magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were
involved in the act that rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the
rogue night elf, has returned to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.
Love in Bloom -- Rosemary
Indra
When childhood friends
reunite it takes two fairies and a matchmaking daughter to help them admit
their true love for each other.
No More Poodle Skirts --
Genie Gabriel
After drifting for years in
the innocent age of the 1950s, a woman struggles to join today's world by
finding a career and a new love, with some help from her zany family.
BLURB
The Lending Library-a fantasy. By C. L. Kraemer
Faeries try to fit into the human world when the forest
where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.
Chasing Rainbows-a contemporary romance. By Genene
Valleau
An eccentric aunt, an inventive uncle, a mother who wears
poodle skirts, and a brother who wears pearls provide a hilarious backdrop for
the courtship of a young woman who yearns for a "normal" family.
The Gift-an historical romance. By Christine Young
A man and a woman on opposite sides of the Civil War get
a second chance at love after one final battle returns soldiers to their
war-torn homes to rebuild their lives.
