We wish you a merry Christmas and a happily ever after! This special holiday historical romance anthology featuring three heartwarming novellas proves that no matter the obstacles, ’tis the season for love.
Meet Me Under the Kissing Bough by Josi S. Kilpack
Deborah Winfrey hasn’t had the heart to host a holiday party since her husband’s death. But this Christmas, it’s time to move forward. The festivities bring renewed life to her home, and the attentions of two very different men promise a chance at new love.
Healing Hearts for the Holidays by Anneka R. Walker
Julia Hunt is strictly forbidden from associating with the family in the nearby manor—including the handsome younger son, Esmond, who quickly steals her heart. With Christmas around the corner, an old bundle of hidden love letters may be the key to her own happily ever after.
A Christmas Correspondence by Sarah L. McConkie
In this novella inspired by the timeless tale, A Christmas Carol, John Charleston finds himself on an unexpected journey in the company of the insufferable Lady Caroline Morleigh. But the magic of the season has a way of softening even the hardest of hearts.
This book is a retelling of A Christmas Carol. Most of the characters’ names are some kind of spin-off of the original, or found somewhere in the book. It was fun figuring out a way to make past, present, and future work through letters and not ghosts! One of my favorite subtle hints are the door knockers (that give a nod back to the original) and the opening line of chapter 1: “The fact was that John Charleston felt dead. Dead as a doornail, really, whatever that meant.”
Sarah L. McConkie started her writing career in the second grade with a thirteen-page magnum opus about dinosaurs. Although the plot line and penmanship lacked polish, Sarah learned she loved retiring to bed thinking of what to write the next day. On a good night, she still does the same thing. Sarah took up the pen several years later after tucking her own little dreamer into bed and now combines modern life experiences, a robust knowledge of regency classics and a passion for all things old fashioned and proper to craft her historical romances. She co-stars with her own Mr. Right in the real-life romantic comedy she calls life. Sarah believes creating thought-provoking and moral stories promotes literacy in a world that needs more readers. She has a bachelor’s degree in Music Education and taught junior high choir for several years before becoming a stay-at-home mother to four darling children. She currently teaches piano and voice for BYU independent study.
The life of Poppy, a struggling actress, is turned upside down when she witnesses the burial of an urn in her yard. Poppy gets entangled with the “dead girl,” Dalia, a Latina health guru, whose mourners show up in the yard, and whose criminal antics, ranging from Miami to New York to L.A., sent her into a witness protection program.
Why does Poppy agree to mourner manage Dalia’s burial site?
Dead Dalia’s fan club overwhelm Poppy with their visits, as do the dangerous signs of Dalia’s former life as healer and thief. Still, Poppy finds that wearing Dalia’s clothes bring her good luck in auditions and that Dalia’s luscious, Latin lovers are irresistible. Is Dalia really dead? Once Poppy is accused of complicity with Dalia’s crimes, she wants everything Dalia out of her life.
Just after I moved into the guesthouse, they buried a dead girl in my yard. That’s when my life turned upside down and inside out for the second time. The first time was when the doctors rearranged my colon.
I was thrilled to move into the Topanga Canyon guesthouse, a boho-chic area north of Los Angeles. I knew about Topanga from growing up in the nearby San Fernando Valley. Now, as a struggling, mostly unemployed actress, I was living in a shitty, Hollywood neighborhood. Although it was a cute, little bungalow, the environment was killing me—dirty, filthy, hot, too much traffic, zero fresh air, noisy and people living on the edge. Hollywood was no longer glamorous. And parking was a son of a bitch. Also, at age forty-six, I was done stepping over homeless people. Sorry-not-sorry, and I deserved different and better. Even though many times, I had been close to homeless myself.
The universe spoke when I met Lily Jin at a Hollywood acting workshop. She was an exotic-looking and a mixed something. A twenty-two-year-old gal, and a lite-Buddhist, like me. I usually do just enough chanting to keep the demons and gremlins away for the day.
Lily was wearing torn jeans over her long, model-like legs and a midriff exposing a flat, firm tummy. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere.
Oh, to be twenty again and be able to eat, drink, smoke and snort anything. That was several decades behind me. My five-six, lanky frame was getting flabby. Yes, even skinny people can get flabby. I was now in yucky perimenopause, with the last of my overcooked eggs dropping into withering fallopian tubes and heading down through my dried-up hoo-ha. Luckily, at first glance, you can’t tell this is happening unless you’re airport security staff.
My dirty blonde shoulder length hair only needed a bit of henna to hide the grey and my brown eyes were still bright and youthful. This helped my agent place me in the thirty-five-to-forty-five roles, despite being in my mid-forties.
To date, no surgery, minimal fillers and injectables. However, as I headed towards the half-century mark, I would revisit. In the meantime, I strove to sharpen my acting skills, and let gravity have its way with me.
While in the workshop, Lily and I tried following the acting exercise. As we were pretending to be wounded sheep during an alien invasion, Lily whispered to me, asking if I knew of anyone who wanted to rent her guesthouse. After the workshop, we went to the El Compadre on Sunset to discuss the details. We were served frozen skinny margs, then toasted each other and became besties in an instant. When Lily told me that the guesthouse was in Topanga Canyon, I shouted over the mariachi band, “I’ll take it, I’ll take it, I’ll take it!” Even sight unseen and not knowing the price, she had me at “Topanga Canyon.”
I had heard about Topanga. It was crawling with the famous and the has-beens who never were. The town was known for its eclectic artists and colorful history, including one of the Manson family murders. During the Hollywood golden age, it was the weekend getaway hotspot for the now-dead stars you can see on the Turner Classic Movie channel. It had changed, but still had some leftover glamour and pricey homes. I was already fantasizing about living among the stars, wearing designer sunglasses and sipping champagne.
Before Lily would show me the property, we had to chant together while we were still drinking at El Compadre. The place was crowded, and the mariachi band was still in high gear. I knew I looked skeptical about chanting.
“Come on, we can do it. Tune the Mexicans out,” Lily said as she closed her eyes and chanted. The waiter came by and made a comment. But I only caught, “Locas.” I kept one eye open and one closed while I chanted with Lily. It felt like a minute, and then she paused. We both instinctually did a pinkie swear. As we exhaled, we vowed to make this living situation work. I was cleared to visit the digs. But the rent Lily was going to charge was under market. So, was there a catch: leaking roof, Peeping Toms, bad plumbing, crawling with critters?
Angela Page is a writer, film producer, and graduate of The London School of Economics and New York University.
“THERE’S A DEAD GIRL IN MY YARD” is her latest co-authored released inspired by real events!
“SUDDENLY SINGLE SYLVIA,” a novella and dating guide and the basis for the award-winning short film “SYLVIA.”
“MATCHED IN HEAVEN,” a comic fantasy romance, was the winner of the 2015 New Apple humor category and 2015/16 Readers’ Views award winner in romance.
Her short stories have been published in a variety of magazines and anthologies. She wrote and produced the multi award-winning comedy short, “Unplugging Aunt Vera” which is featured on the SHORTS TV channel. Her other short works can be seen on IndiPix Unlimited and FunnyorDie
— Magic may take many forms, but love shall rule supreme —
Though wholly shorn of memories like all who dwell in the village of Fogland, Fleex knows this: his heart will always beat for Fin and Fin alone. However, when his dearest friend is hoodwinked by the Gossiper, he’ll need to venture beyond the safety of “home” to somehow save her.
Armed with but the oddities his guardians had found him with—a cryptic book and broken necklace—Fleex must find his way through countless worlds, collecting scattered clues. Accompanied by Flip and Flop, two Greenies sent by Fog Almighty, Fleex soon finds his quest means rather more than simply saving Fin. In fact, the very universe is hanging in the balance now, for music, knowledge, and all things good are slowly being swallowed by a monster made of light. Awaiting Fleex are riddles from the Reader in the World of Word, demands from the Collector, and a slew of wicked on the path to where the High Priest lives.
Only time will tell if Fleex can mend the fractures greed has caused, but either way, he’ll reclaim Fin or meet his fate en route.
They hung in the grey void, water dripping from their clothes and falling into the abyss below them. Fleex remembered. Maybe he had to use the word bridge the Collector had told him about. But were they in Word yet and would that bridge help? One thing was sure, he would never know if he did not try. He strained his memory and began:
‘Lead us to Light of knowledge,
so With letters build step one!’
A step appeared before him. It was made of letters, interwoven so closely that it was impossible to read what was written. The step was hanging in the air, very close to them, emitting a weak light.
To reach the hidden treasure though A second step be done.
Up the ladder I shall climb Until I reach the sun.
To find the wisdom of all time
From which the truth be spun.
The second step consisted of texts in languages unknown to Fleex. The Greenies had explained to him that Herba Linguista helped only with understanding and speaking, but not with reading of foreign texts. That was obviously a not-very-advanced herb. Further up the ladder, there were steps with densely-written formulae and numbers, maps and charts. All was well for the moment, he just needed to climb them. The steps were stable and broad enough for him. Fleex climbed them without stopping to take a breath until he reached the top, where he saw something that seemed to resemble a book. In fact, it was not possible to tell whether it was a book or not. It was enormous in size, its cover was dark and cracked, and its pages, as big as bed sheets, were sticking out untidily. When they went very close to it, they could hear panting and mumbling in a foreign tongue. A dull crackle seemed to come from inside, and small clouds of white dust spread along its edges. Fleex gulped, wondering what to do.
There was a loud ‘BOOM!’ and a scruffy-looking creature with large, lens-like eyes suddenly rolled out from the book. It came to a halt with a loud screech, just before it could bump into Fleex and push him back down the ladder. It peered up through thick lenses and said:
‘Hmmm, a group of foreigners appear?
But I did not invite them here.’
‘We do not wish to take up your valuable time,’ said Flip to the grumpy-looking, little man who was studying them from the ground.
The little man replied angrily:
‘The last ones came and said the same, I trusted them for sure.
Then off they went with all my things
So now I trust no more.’ He rose slowly. ‘What do you want?’
Born and raised in Stara Zagora, Bulgaria, Toni Behm graduated MA in Bulgarian Language and Literature from the University of Plovdiv and later certified as a TEFL teacher. She worked for a time at a local radio station, newspaper, then she taught English at school and university. In 2008 she moved to the USA and started writing this story. The initial idea was that it would be a short humorous fantasy story, but later it turned into a longer fairy-tale.
Published under the pen name A.V. Osten as an e-book is her dystopian novelette The Head Employee Precedent, part of the Hemisphere series.
Toni lives in Michigan with her husband, daughter, and their two cats.
