Friday, May 16, 2014

"Carnival Nights" by Kathryn O'Halloran (Short Stories)



Genre:  Literary Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Short Story Collection

Summary:  Carnival Nights is a collection of short stories about the dreams and hopes we bury inside us and the consquences of acknowledging those dreams. 

A country boy finally makes the move to the city but discovers things aren't the way he remembers them. A woman finds what she needs most after her death. A young girl learns that the idea of sex is better than the act.

Excerpt:

She stands in the doorway holding a cantaloupe. Gift-wrapped. The hands offering the fruit are hidden by stretched and ragged sleeves; cardigan sleeves which I suspect have been sucked on and chewed. Multicoloured pigtails sprout from her head like apostrophes in an overpunctuated poem, the freckles on her nose are full stops. Under the cardigan is a mangle of lace, a jettisoned remnant from a child’s dress up box. She looks fey, but knowing, an urban pixie.

"I saw you moving in. I live downstairs and wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood.” She hands me the cantaloupe and says she is on her way to a party, she can’t hang around bugging me. As if she would. I am not exactly overwhelmed with people offering me their company at the moment. I am about to invite her in for a drink but, before the thought gets from my brain to my mouth, she vanishes.

I moved into this flat a week ago, after dreaming for years of moving to the city. We had visited St Kilda on the Under-19’s footy trip, a bunch of country kids, wide-eyed and naïve. The other guys only wanted to gawk at the prostitutes and snicker at the homeless, as though the street life was an exotic zoo for their amusement.

Meanwhile I'd fallen in love with the place with its decadence and decay. I remember going to Luna Park, the giant mouth of its clown-faced façade swallowing me whole, wandering through the Art Deco ruins within, imagining former grandeur. I screamed like a child on the Scenic Railway. It wasn't the dips that scared me; it was the thought of that rotting wooden scaffolding holding the structure up.

That night, while the guys got drunk and made a nuisance of themselves with the girls on the street, I explored relics of lost opulence on palm-tree beaches. I drank beer in pubs with walls held up by decade-old collage of band-posters. I sipped bitter coffee in a street cafe and watched dramas unfold before me.

As I wandered the streets I felt like the images were filling my eyes up to overflowing. I wanted to hold it all in.

A man, greyed with age and hard living - tattoo with the name ‘Miranda’ snaking around his chest - asked if he could sell me an idea. Ideas were going cheap – a dollar apiece. I didn’t need them.

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Friday, May 9, 2014

"Glory: The Uxel Herum Saga" by Alain Gomez (Novelette)



Genre:  Young Adult Science Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Novelette

Summary:  Book 4 of the Uxel Herum Saga

Uxel Herum's plan to infiltrate the Imperium capital world quickly begins to go awry. While she initially hoped to act as a spy for the strozzi she is now little more than a glorified prisoner. Will she be able to complete her mission... alive?

Excerpt:

The cargo ship lurched and Uxel glowered at the oversized Imperium thug piloting her vessel. The human was clearly uncomfortable trying to sit in a pilot’s chair that was designed for a bac. Her bird-like species preferred perching to sitting. It seemed ridiculous that she couldn’t take the lead on the controls and just have the thug give her directions. But no. “The colonel’s command was quite explicit,” the thug had said.

Her head twitched and she glanced around the cockpit nervously, a mannerism Uxel hated but seemed to have no control over when she was stressed. She hoped for the umpteenth time that Urgon had both received and understood her message. Her entire future hinged on that one little data pad.

How strangely life could turn out at times. The colonel’s offer to have her replace Urgon Shebel and tune ships for the Imperium was almost irresistible. A job like that would give her everything she ever dreamed of: wealth, power… respect. A few years ago she would have jumped at the chance without so much as a second thought. Who cared if she ended up selling out her people and her beliefs in the end? So long as it made her an easy quave.

But she did have a second thought. She had several second thoughts. In that moment Uxel realized that she had changed. Whether or not it was for the better remained to be seen. Perhaps she had become shrewder with age or perhaps Lady Valkon and the strozzi sense of honor had rubbed off on her. Deep down an insistent voice said that she owed the strozzi more than a quick betrayal. If power and respect were what she craved she would not find it through this Imperium job offer. The colonel could sugarcoat the deal all he liked but it didn’t change the fact that she would be nothing more than a peon or, worse still, a prisoner.

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Friday, May 2, 2014

"Eve the First: A Fairy Tale Revision" by Teresa Edmond-Sargeant (Short Story)


Genre:  Fantasy

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  A retelling of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale "The Wicked Prince," "Eve the First" introduces a princess unlike any other in popular fairy tales: ruthless, power-hungry and ambitious enough to conquer Heaven. After successfully monopolizing the known world, Eve lays her eyes on taking down God so she can reign supreme over Heaven and Earth.

Excerpt:

She was called Eve the First. 

And once upon a time, that name, and its infamy, petrified the hearts and minds of anyone familiar with her conquests, capabilities, and cunning tenacity fueled by her volatility.

Eve’s innocent beauty belied her passion to conquer the world. Her doe-like eyes concealed the twinkle that reflected her megalomaniacal thirst for power. With her youthfully plump, pink lips, Eve barked demands at her subjects and soldiers, threatening to execute them if they failed to carry out her commands. She wore her lustrous locks in braids and pinned up into exquisite loops with hair ornaments crafted from the bones of her enemies and decorated with precious jewels like pearls, diamonds, and sapphires.

In Eve’s kingdom of Regnum, the populace sought for worldly knowledge, wealth, and prestige. Above all, the people pursued the supreme form of existence: immortality. To these ends, they excelled in architecture, arts, music, literature, alchemy and science. With the practices of Pagan worship, drunken orgies, and human sacrificing, they prided themselves on being their absolute best in knowledge and wealth, while their crude and barbaric natures situated them at the bottom of human existence. 
 
Eve ruled the land of Regnum with the utmost passion of all kinds: love, fear, cruelty, and intensity, but mostly the last three. Every day she studied maps of foreign kingdoms, plotted her next conquest, and trained her soldiers until their feet bled and their sanity broke. Wherever she went, her subjects genuflected and lowered their heads, averting eye contact. If Eve caught anyone sneaking furtive glances at her, she screamed the dreaded words, “Away with him and off with his head!” 

The next time that person was seen, his headless body was at the bottom of a ravine near Eve’s castle.
As she brandished her sword and ambition, Eve led her army all over the world, from the nearest to the most remote lands. She left behind trails of bloodshed, death, and tears. With every swing of her sword—a stab here, a beheading there—Eve radiated joy as blood splattered all over her armor and corpses piled up. Villagers said their bountiful fields, once ripe with harvest, were cultivated with the blood of the dead. Whole carcasses and body parts littered the meadows, turning them into rolling graveyards, as though the dead had been dug up. 

“I have unyielding determination that cannot be matched,” Eve once said. “If that makes me an evil woman, so be it.”

Once Eve conquered a village, she marched into its public square and staked her coat of arms into the soil. Her soldiers kept the crowd back while the crowd admired Eve’s glorious beauty sullied with dirt and blood. Clutching the flagpole, Eve placed her right hand over her heart. 

“Today’s victory is in memory of my dear mother, the late Queen Catherine the Third,” Eve said to her new subjects. “She would have been proud to know that I will bestow upon all of you a new day, a new life, and a new era. I acknowledge that from this day forward, this is the age we start to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, and heal the sick. I have ushered in a Golden Era of Peace where the sun will always rise in the east, trees shall forever bear fruit, and harvest season shall forever be abundant. This is the time when we unite as one to remake this land so it will transcend our utmost expectations and ideal selves.”

Eve then signaled her soldiers to present her newly conquered subjects with baskets of bread and meat and vessels of cider. 
 
“Today, what I have done was quite a sacrifice, but it was all done for you my beloved people,” Eve continued. “I will give you whatever you yearn for—food, shelter, clothes—and promise to alleviate you of the agonies you long suffered at the hands of your demon of a king. That will happen if—and only if—you crown me your ruler and allow me to erect my statues everywhere in your village.”

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Friday, April 25, 2014

"A Moments Indulgence" by Rose Garg (Short Stories)



Genre:  General Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Short Story Collection

Summary:  A Moments Indulgence is a collection of 10 gripping short stories from around the world, that will take you on a mesmerising journey into a world of suspense, humour, courage, and some pain. The stories are unique, diverse and conversational.

Excerpt:

From "Kiyoshi"

Silver, long‐tailed birds glimmered and sat frozen as they watched the cherry blossoms and pine trees entwined and dominating the silk brocaded Uchikake Kimono (A Japanese traditional garment).

Kiyoshi Matsumoto sat on the floor, resting the cloth between her chin and knees, and heaved a long sigh. The whiteness of the fabric and her long black hair against her peach‐colored skin made her look like a fairy straight out of a children's book. As she sat there with big, beautiful black eyes staring ahead, she contemplated the direction that her life was going to take today.

Even as her thoughts wandered, she could clearly hear the bells toll at a distance at this early hour. It reminded her of the importance of the occasion. A few days ago in the town of Kitsuke the Shujo
Onie festival had just ended and she had prayed for a good and happy life. It seemed that her prayers were answered. Before twilight today, she would be married and each time she thought of how much her life was likely to change, she felt pride for her family and also uncertainty about the times to come. On the other hand, her father was the most pleased and had been jolly all week.

Her marriage, unlike any of her friends, was arranged because her father had promised her hand to his oldest friend Daiche Nakamura. Several years ago, when her father was fishing in the Seto river, he was nearly killed when he had fallen in. His friend had jumped into the icy waters, almost killing himself while trying to save him. Had it not been for Daiche Nakamura who had saved him, her father would have certainly been dead. In gratitude, her father had promised to marry her to Mr Nakamura.

Undoubtedly, this was a promise made with little thought and in haste, but because Mr Nakamura had saved her father’s life, no argument was encouraged. The only person who had expressed disapproval was Kiyoshi’s mother. According to her, although she was very grateful that her husband’s life had been saved, she could not come to terms with the fact that her older daughter had been sacrificed.

Even as she was growing up, Kiyoshi was aware that by the time she was 18, she would be married to Mr Nakamura, who was around her father’s age. Until three years ago, she had no qualms. But now that she was grown up and was seeing the world, she felt a tinge of sorrow and anger. All her friends were moving into big cities and starting to live exciting lives. Helpless as she was, all that she could do was watch them and feel bad that she may not have a chance at such a life.

Soon as she turned 18, she had been engaged to be married to Mr Nakamura. It was a grand ceremony better known as yunio in Japanese and some of her friends had attended. As was the tradition, they had exchanged the symbolic gifts of konbu (its character can be written to mean a child‐bearing woman), dried cuttlefish (due to its phallic shape), a long linen thread (symbolizing old age) and a folded fan (symbol of wealth) wrapped in rice paper.

She could hear the whispers and understood the pity in their eyes, and she felt a little awkward. But there was so much music and sake (alcoholic beverage made from fermented rice) that most of it faded by the end of the night.

Since the engagement seven months ago, she had met Mr Nakamura officially thrice. He had courted her in the gardens of the Nakamura residence, while her mother talked to his okaasan (mother in Japanese) and waited. The Nakamura family had a well‐known heritage and a respectable standing in society, being one of the oldest medical practitioners of the town of Kitsuki.


Secretly Kiyoshi did not mind Mr Nakamura courting her. He showered her with expensive gifts and talked to her very gently. He had a respectful demeanor, which was much better than the young boys of her age. With her friends, she pretended that she was just being an honorable and obedient daughter, but in her heart she knew that her marriage would be a good one.

According to Japanese law, they were already married, but like most conservative families, could be together only after the ceremony. The legal marriage had been a no fuss affair at the local government registrar’s office, with only Mr Nakamura, and both their mothers present.

The shrine where the ceremony was being held as per Shinto (Indigenous spirituality of Japan) customs was only 10 minutes from where she lived and Kiyoshi had figured that she would need at least two hours to get ready. Her mother would wake up exactly at 5 AM, which was anytime now. She yawned and stretched and putting down the soft cloth, tied her hair in a knot, wishing that she had slept better. Her own apprehensions and her younger sister Miyabi’s excitement had made her restless all night.

“Oh dear Lord,” she sighed, getting up to do her toilet and be ready for the occasion.

The Matsumoto family procession commenced at 9 AM. They were delayed but it was okay because the bridegroom’s family would enter only when all of the bride’s family was seated inside the shrine.

She walked with her mother and Miyabi by her side. Her mother looked elegant in a light blue dress with white pump shoes and a matching purse. Mother was handling everything very well, but Kiyoshi noticed the slight twitching of her eyebrows now and then. It meant that mother was anxious.

Kiyoshi wore a white silk kimono that was heavily brocaded and embroidered with the motif of a bounty of flowers and flowing water. On her head, she had the traditional silk tsunokakushi (a rectangular piece of cloth, often white and worn by brides), on which there were laced flower designs.

Her sister Miyabi was wearing a peach colored dress, which brought out the color of her cheeks and her youthfulness. She was constantly by Kiyoshi’s side making sure to properly arrange the layers of cloth on Kiyoshi’s kimono as she walked.

The men and the rest of the family comprising her relatives and friends followed slowly. Because it was a short walk to the shrine, the procession was completed on foot. It was a beautiful and sunny day. There was joy and cheer, laughter and noise, and songs and dance. Children danced around while the older people talked louder and louder.

Kiyoshi looked down the tarred road, between the ancient yellow walls of Kitsuki, and noticed how the trees threw patterns on the ground that were very similar to her attire. It was as if the trees were giving her company on her special day. She smiled as she listened to her cousins sing old wedding songs, mostly teasing her about tonight.

As they advanced, her short life zoomed before her eyes. She walked in silence, remembering moments from the days gone by, some joyous, some annoying but all of them special and hers.

With each step forward, the world around her seemed to become quieter, as if giving her time to think and to reflect. Deep in thought and her eyes staring down at her shoes, she walked with her head down. She would miss her family and the carefree life that she had all these years. It made her very emotional.

During the bridal procession, passersby stopped and showered greetings and blessings on her. Some even clapped. There was song and dance and everything was loud and merry. When the shrine was only a few meters, it started to drizzle. People started scurrying about, exclaiming aloud. Everyone began to quicken their pace in order to avoid a sudden downpour. Like a delicate butterfly, Kiyoshi picked up her dress very slightly, and ran as quickly and cautiously as she could, with Miyabi close on her heels.

Soon they reached the shrine. Shiny and decorative footwear left wet marks on the red floor as people entered the covered portion of the shrine to take shelter from the rain. Seeing this, two monks shook their heads disapprovingly and gestured to the crowd with their hands to move quickly toward the right corridor and into the inner sanctum.

Kiyoshi took a deep breath as the incense from inside found its way to her lungs. She smiled as she entered the large prayer hall and waved to her friends as she walked bravely between two sections of people who were already seated. Miyabi had to nudge her several times to stop waving so much, and walk slowly like a bride. As she sat and waited facing the altar, she stole a glance at Lord Buddha and wished that He could stop her heart from beating so fast.

She had gone through the whole ceremony a hundred times in her mind, but she was very angry that she was still having sensations that she was not prepared for. The prayer hall was slowly filling up. Families and friends gathered and greeted each other in whispers, nods and full smiles. Kiyoshi looked ahead at the altar respectfully and called out to the Lord silently, seeking courage.

“Where is mother?” asked Kiyoshi, her voice on an edge.
“I don’t know, I thought she was walking behind us,” whispered Miyabi.

Kiyoshi held the front of her Obi (a broad sash worn around the waist of the kimono) with the palm of her hand, as a bilious feeling built up inside her chest.

Buy this collection on Amazon.  Be sure to check out the author's Facebook.

Friday, April 18, 2014

"Clay, Book 1.5 of the Punk Series" by P.J. Post (Novella)



Genre:  New Adult Romance

Type of Short Story:  Novella

Summary:  Clay is the second book of a New Adult Romance Series - Punk, and is a Novella running approximately 50 print pages long.
 
Why did she get in that truck?

Bethany Warner is graduating from high school and is looking forward to college and the gymnastics team with few regrets, except for maybe Tommy - her possessive ex-boyfriend.

And as the last party of high school is turning into a dangerous and unforgettable nightmare, she meets Connor Clay, a punk and musician with a reputation for violence.

Clay retells the opening chapter of Ache from Bethany’s point of view, showing us not only her perceptions of the events of that fateful evening, but also much more about who she is and most importantly – why.

Note: This Book is intended for 18+ audiences due to pervasive language and adult themes and situations.

Excerpt:

I’m sick to death of all of it.

But now I’m finally getting some independence and no one is going to know me at State. Appearances can go fly a kite. They won’t know who my Mom is or who Daddy is: they won’t constantly remind me about those embarrassing stories from freshman and sophomore year: they won’t care who I was seen with last weekend or even if I wear my pajamas to class — none of it will matter.

I can totally start over, maybe even find a bad boy to date for a change, someone exciting, someone that’s unpredictable and not so preoccupied with what everyone else thinks or especially with what everyone else is doing.

Maybe an art major.

Some dark guy with mysterious eyes who caresses his beatnik beard with experienced fingers while he smokes clove cigarettes and quotes Dostoyevsky and Shelley, alluding to the greater beauty and purity of our impending transgressions. And all the while, he’ll be mesmerized, unable to avoid staring at me, beguiled by my enchanting full, inviting and impatient lips, and I shall offer him up nothing but the most modest hint of interest — but he’ll see the longing and passion in my eyes, emotions that I can’t hide from him and he’ll know we were meant to be together.

Wishful thinking, perhaps.

Hell, I’d take a guitarist from some local cover band as long as he can string two sentences together; just please, God, no more jocks or mindless morons.

I mean, I’ll miss it here, but college is going to be so cool, with or without my fantasy bad boy.
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Friday, April 11, 2014

"Fire Escape Melodies" by Caroline Kellogg (Flash Fiction)

Genre:  Narrative Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Flash Fiction

Complete Story:

I forget what that woman looked like--

Blonde
Brunette?
Brown eyes
Blue?

but I have not forgotten the look she gave me -- a look like magic.

A cigarette dangled precariously from the corner of your mouth -- I snatched it away to smoke it myself as I watched the city turn around trying to find from where your voice wafted. No one thought to look up . . . Except for her.

As she pulled her bike onto the sidewalk beneath us, her gaze met mine through the bars of the fire escape -- and like she was fully aware of all the love we were in, she smiled at me, as you, unaware, strummed your guitar furiously.
Read more by this author here.

Friday, April 4, 2014

"Exchange: The Uxel Herum Saga" by Alain Gomez (Novelette)



Genre:  Young Adult Science Fiction

Type of Short Story:  Novelette

Summary:  Book 3 of the Uxel Herum Saga 

After training on Kortholt for more than two years, Uxel Herum is turning into a powerful tuner. The leader of her adopted clan has a mission for her that, strangely enough, will not only test her skills as a tuner but a merchant as well.

Unsure of how she feels being thrown back into her old life, Uxel finds herself in the thick of black market trading on the planet Zink. While trying to gather information about Imperium invasion plans she is thrown into a rather interesting situation. One that could make her money than she ever dreamed... 

Excerpt:

The wind and rain howled outside. Despite the tempest's attempts to make its presence known, the occupants of the training facility ignored its rage. The real storm was on the inside.

Uxel Herum circled her opponent with easy confidence. She had grown to her full height since crashing to Kortholt’s surface two years ago but she was still nowhere near her opponent’s size. Even the smallest strozzi sitting around the perimeter of the fighting ring towered above her by several feet when standing. It didn’t matter. She knew how to compensate. Uxel had faced this female before many times. Her name was Gudrun. Uxel was considerably faster than her opponent but Gudrun was no fool. By this point both had learned how to adapt to each other’s fighting style. If Uxel was going to win the match she must be subtle and clever.

And she would win.

Today was no ordinary match. She and Gudrun were the final contestants in the tournament to determine the next Vindex or “champion.” It was an honorary title. Each year those that were undergoing tuning training competed for the title. The tournament lasted for three days and those that had not been eliminated stopped only to eat. It was a test of strength, endurance and intelligence. By the final day all the contestants had had an opportunity to watch each other fight. The victor could not win from brute strength alone, she also had to be cunning.     

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