Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Twisted Fayrie Tales Anthology

December 2007 Eternal Press (eBook)
Story Contributions: The Christmas Present/Sindarella

Buy-Fictionwise | Buy-Eternal Press

Twists on old favorites that are red hot, sweet, and scary...and not necessarily in that order. Not your grandmother's fairy tales!

SINDARELLA: Sinda Ella has a bone to pick with the folks who screwed up her story with silly glass slippers and sweet fairy godmothers--and she might just use her fangs to do it.

THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT, Lisa's award-winning time travel fantasy. Ted's Christmas gift offers him something shocking--one chance to turn back time and reclaim lost love.


"You are truly trapped here forever?"

A lump formed in my stomach. "As long as I live."

"Not the same as forever."

"'Tis in all the ways that matter."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Mikkhail pulled a vial from his pocket, drinking a few drops. Then he murmured undecipherable words.

"You asked of my power. I will tell you." He was within inches, tall enough to raise my head to his gaze. "Then, I will help you."

"Help? How?"

He pressed an icy finger to my lips. "I am not... of this world. No longer mortal. This is my power," he bent as if to press his lips to my neck. "The power to set you free."

I swayed, eyes fluttering at the sensual breeze stirring. I wanted his kiss, and more. I meant to give him everything. The damp, leafy underbed would be where I divorced my maidenhood.

Then, something in his words struck. I pushed away. "How will I win my freedom, exactly?"

The smile returned. "By making you like me."

The smile widened and I saw them--two pointed teeth, one on either side.


Setting his hands on the mantle on either side of the piece, he bent down to get a closer look. The star did seem to be glowing, and getting brighter at that. The longer he stared, the brighter the light grew until his eyes watered from the brilliance. A sudden flash exploded the light into a kaleidoscope of color and whirling patterns, and Ted felt himself being swept away.

Swirling into the kaleidoscope, the darkness took him.

* * * *

A loud pop startled Ted awake. Logs in the fireplace sizzled and crackled in protest over the roaring flames.

Flames? The thought sat him straight up. He hadn't started a fire. He'd barely gotten home to wrap the globe. . .

The globe that was now missing, along with the rest of his living room. In its place was a cozy, wood-paneled cabin he had never seen before. Bedsprings groaned beneath him as he pushed aside a colorful quilt and got to his feet. Where am I? he wondered silently. Am I dreaming?

"No, you're not dreaming," boomed a friendly voice. A short slip of a man with laughing eyes and ebony hair regarded him from an armchair across the room.

"H-how did you know what I was thinking?"

The other man shrugged. "Didn't. But they all say it."

Ted strode to the center of the room. "Who are you?"

The stranger set down a newspaper on the table beside him and rose. From the bottom of his sole to the tip of his knit cap he stood not an inch taller than five-foot-two. "Phineas C. Cottle, Ted. Folks just call me Finn."

"You know my name?"

Finn chuckled. "Oh yes, and a great deal more, friend. It's all here, plain as plaid."

He handed Ted the newspaper he'd been reading. His eyes widened. "Hey, that's me!"

His picture was on the front page. And the next. And the one after that. In fact, the entire paper appeared to be a detailed history of his life: parents, school, jobs, everything.

"This is nuts. This," he waved the paper at Finn, "is not real. And neither are you."