HOLIDAY FLASH FICTION 1!

We’re having a bit of fun here by the lake this holiday season, and, as you’ll see from the next few blog posts, our authors and staff have been putting together some fantastic flash fiction pieces. Well, we say fantastic, yet it’s probably worth you knowing that when we mentioned the words “flash fiction” they all paused open-mouthed, thrown totally out of their comfort zones! MWAHAHAHAHA!

But still, we think they’ve done awesome jobs and are delighted to share their pieces for your enjoyment.

So, today, we have James L. Weaver and Barbara Quinn bringing you both grit and nostalgia. ENJOY!


Christmas Bear by James L. Weaver

Jake Caldwell jerked upright in bed, the thud from the living room chasing away the tattered remnants of a nightmare. He glanced to Maggie snoring softly beside him, the Ozark moonlight through the snow crusted windows casting her in a beautiful blue light. Something scraped in the hall, like furniture dragged across the hardwood. Snatching his pistol from behind the nightstand, he racked a round in the chamber and set his bare feet on the cold floor.

Swinging the pistol sights into the living room, he spotted a big man in a Santa suit scarfing cookies by the fire place. The floorboard creaked under Jake’s weight.

Santa jerked his head, throwing his arms up and eyes wide at the gun. “Jesus, don’t shoot.”

Jake lowered the gun. “Bear? What the hell are you doing?”

His best friend raised a red bag laced with white fur, cookie crumbs hanging on his beard. “Dropping off your Christmas present.”

“In the middle of the night? I almost shot your fat ass.”

Bear grinned. “Merry Fucking Christmas, Caldwell.”

 

James L. Weaver writes the multi award-winning gritty JAKE CALDWELL crime thriller series set in the Ozarks. Check them out: POOR BOY ROAD, ARES ROAD, AND BLACKBIRD ROAD!


Christmas Morning by Barbara Quinn 

On Christmas morning I sit with my tea and a dish of Struffoli. I remember how these golden gems arrived on my plate. I see my grandson helping his parents roll out the dough into long snakes. There I am, cutting them up, arranging them on trays, and passing them to my husband who drops them into sizzling oil. I add the final coating of honey and dusting of rainbow sprinkles. Everyone tastes and moans. More than the heat of the stove warms my kitchen. 
On Christmas morning, I sip my tea and take another bite of love.

 

Barbara Quinn writes women’s fiction that gives you all the feels, wrapped up in the incredible music of Bruce Springsteen. Check out THE SUMMER SPRINGSTEEN’S SONGS SAVED ME!

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