Monday, December 31, 2012
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
I hope everyone enjoyed the flash fiction Holiday celebration. Isn't it fascinating to see the different styles that our writers come up with?
To start the year with some fun for our fans, come check us out and enter to win. Let us 'Tryst up' your Valentines Day with stories to get your fantasies flowing and a grand gift basket to help make the fantisies come true...
Tantalizing Trysts will be a collection of tales to stir your passions, fan the flames, and entice the erotic in your own fantasies. We will accept contributions of Valentine's tales.
What was your most romantic Valentines? What was your worst? Did the love of your life propose to you in some romantic way? Did a Valentines date go horribly wrong?
Watch for details on how to win the prize basket!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
The crowd was tight packed and rushed, Callum felt almost crushed, like he could barely breathe. Still, he soldiered on. He hated Christmas shopping, had since his wife died but he had promised her towards the very end of the illness that took her that he would always celebrate.
So he was here preparing to head to a family Christmas event. It had been six years but he was finally facing the rest of the world during the holidays, rather than staring at his tv with Chinese food in his pj’s, having ordered all his presents online so he didn’t have to speak to anyone or be forced to hear those ghastly false expressions of glad tidings from psaltic salespeople who couldn’t give a fuck about anyone they talked to other than for a tick on the target sheet.
He stood searching for something for his mother. Lana usually handled all this or he did himself slowly working his way through the list and rather quicker working through the bottle of bourbon by the mouse pad. He finally, after what seemed like hours of searching in a hell of baubles, tinsel and tat, found a small, delicate, white pin that was apparanlty carved out of a whitish wood and trimmed with, a rosewood inlay spiral.
As he reached for the box he felt the teasing brushing motion of a woman’s hand sliding over his. He paused almost guiltily enjoying the contact as he turned into the touch. Almost buried into his chest by the crush of the crowd was a small woman. Violet hair, five foot tall, bright pink eyes that were obviously contacts, all in a package containing boobs that were probably a thirty two B but looked huge on her frame. “Hey" he said to himself, "I’m a widower not dead." He nodded to her and asked “You want me to delve into this bin of pins and grab you one since I have the display one?”
She nodded gratefully, looking flushed and harried before he bent over the edge of the bin and delved. He was always fairly indifferent to the cold and today was no exception. He was wearing an NFL style jersey, slightly baggy and riding up as he bent over into the barrel showing his toned body and the swirling mix of scars and tattoos that adorned much of his back. She stood admiring the sight as he delved and had to be nudged to realise he had retrieved the pin.
“Sorry just tired I guess, spaced out.”
He nodded and waved his hand sagely “It’s this shit that does it, sends people mental.” Laughing and enjoying the brief moment that broke for just a second the tense nature of the Christmas shopping combat.
Hours later Callum was stood in the queue. N,o not the queue, this was the tertiary queue, a sort of holding tank for the queue to the queue. Annoyed, he stood and steadily vaped producing a cloud of water vapour which in deference to the season had a heady odour of clove, orange peel, cinnamon and dark chocolate. Whilst being asked by the curious about the electronic cigarette he handed out business cards and talked about the tech whilst revelling in the hateful glares of the evangelical ex-smokers. Whilst enjoying his vape and lazily breathing smoke rings he was startled by a request. “Do the ship that floats through the smoke ring.”
He laughed and said in response “Do I look like Gandalf?” as he spoke he turned and saw the violet haired girl in the sonic t shirt from earlier. She giggled, and that broke the ice. They started to talk. He was twenty eight, had been married until she got ill, he showed her the rings round his throat, his and hers. His Elrond’s ring of power, Hers Galadrial’s. They chatted about fantasy novels and film and television fitting comfortably in the hour they had to talk. As she paid for her purchases she scrawled a note which had the name of a pub and a time on it and bribed the cashier a fiver to give it to him. He checked out the mix of clothes, cheap kids toys for friends’ kids and the other old standards of present buying before being handed his receipt. Opening the note he read it and was shocked into freezing outside the store entrance. “Do I go? I mean it has been six years and she ordered me to be happy.” praying softly he waited for a sign, what to do which way to go. As he left the shop he heard the opening of the Christmas song that had defined his season as a married man, almost as if it was a preordained order for him to begin moving on and looking to the future.
Checking the note again he headed to the pub realising if he ran through the crowds he could just about make it. He stopped outside and took a deep breath and had a quick vape to calm his nerves,.Stood by the pub door wondering whether he was doing the right thing. He almost heard her voice in his ear one last time telling him what he had told her before she died, “Be happy and live, if not for you but for me”. That was the last push he needed to open the door. Weirdly the pub was empty but for one person, the girl from earlier. She was sat at a table by the lit fire watching the snow fall outside, he moved past the bar ordered a drink and went to sit down. Over the next few hours they talked and talked, learning each other and just exploring the exciting and the newness of meeting someone and feeling that instant rush of attraction.
They laughed and talked, and over the hours as the snow fell ate together and moved closer till in the end they were hand in hand as the bell for last orders chimed. Shrugging on their coats they were discussing where to go next when they were faced with the choice being made for them. The new couple slowly struggled with the door, first pulling gently then yanking harder then trying to tap it then pull before the bloke behind the bar came to look. Even with his help it wouldn’t shift. He turned the lights up and then they saw the true issue. The snow had piled up to the point that the door wouldn’t budge and they couldn’t leave.
“Well this solves that question.” Lucy giggled before turning to the barman. “Still have a room spare for tonight?”
He nodded laughing a little before digging out the key and grabbing a couple of bottles of beer for himself and sorting a final drink for each of the couple.
Heading up the winding stairs they walked together still hand in hand and Callum stood at the door awkwardly. Lucy plucked both drinks from his hand and returned slyly grinning before pulling him into a deep long rough kiss by his shirt collar and dragging him through the open door, kicking the door shut as she pushed him to the bed ravishing his mouth and running her hands across his body.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Hi I'm 22. Unemployed, exist and write terrible fiction. Oh, and I read far too much fanfiction when I should be looking for work. So, without further ado, bore your brains to pieces with my attempts at romance. Any constructive criticism welcome!
Lottie’s Merry Christmas
Her pace slowed, as she passed the local pub. She even stopped, contemplating diving into the garish Christmas lights, tinsel, party crackers and end of year pop quizzes but shaking herself broke from the connection, abandoning the merriment behind her and allowing the laughter to trickle away in the back of her mind. The cobbled streets led her in gentle curves towards the depths of the city. The shop lights glittering and twinkling merrily at her as she passed, so lost in thought she barely noticed that she had reached the square until her eyes, ears and nose were assaulted by the lights, sounds and smells of the evening market. Rich cinnamon and roasted chestnuts wafted their way towards her. Soft pretzels, doughnuts and cheerfully wrapped cakes tore her attention from her thoughts.
She was still angry, but the feeling had dulled a little. She knew that Lottie couldn’t help the way her family had reacted to her, but it would have been nice if she’d stood up for her, instead of standing there like an idiot. Deep down she knew she was being harsh. Lottie had been just as surprised as she had been by their reactions. They had never indicated any negative feelings towards that sort of thing ever before. Or at least that was what Lottie had assured her of before they had turned up with their “news”.
She snorted to herself and pulled her scarf tighter around her as she wove in and out of the stalls, glancing at necklaces and food and junk that you buy because it’s pretty but of no real use to you whatsoever. Barely paying attention to where she was headed she found herself in the centre of the market next to a Grecian looking pavilion, and surrounded by tall snow covered trees was a temporary ice rink. Pausing, she leaned against the bars and lost herself in the twirling of the couples on the ice, her thoughts disappearing in a spiral of emotions as she clung to the railing for dear life.
Lottie gaped at her parents. She couldn’t believe that they’d said what they just did.
“That’s disgusting! You’re filthy, the pair of you! You tramp! You’ve turned my daughter into a slut!”
Those phrases rang around and around her head before the slamming of the front door shocked her out of her thoughts. Hari was gone! She’d walked out! Lottie saw red.
“How dare you! How dare you insult the woman I love! I’m so glad I don’t live at home anymore and have a job. You make me sick! I’m leaving! You’re not going to see me again! You can shove your bigoted ideas and have a merry fucking Christmas the lot of you!” She spun on her heels and headed towards the door.
“You walk out that door young lady and I’ll-“
“You’ll what Daddy? Spank me? Throw me out?” Lottie scoffed “I’m an adult with my own house.” She gasped and put a hand on her forehead dramatically “Oh no! Where will I go?! Oh! Yeah...Home.” With this she opened the door, pausing just long enough to turn around for one last parting shot, a feral smirk on her face. “Oh, and by the way Daddy, Hari is a minx in bed! Ciao!” She flipped her blonde locks over her shoulder and slammed the door leaving behind a stunned silence in her wake.
It took some time to find her but there she was, staring into space, lent against the metal barriers that had been bolted into place around the temporary ice rink. She had watched her for a few minutes now, unsure how to proceed before summoning her courage. “It’s pretty.”
“Yeah” Lottie’s heart soared a little. “She’s still talking to me!” her head screamed.
“Do you want to?”
“What?” Hari blinked and turned to her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Do you want to skate?”
Hari’s lips twitched into a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They held hands as they glided lazily around the ice. “So...”
“So?” Lottie stopped at the edge of the ice.
“What did you say?” “Oh just that I was leaving and that they were bigots.”
“Nothing else?” Hari pulled a bottle of water out of her bag and took a sip.
“I might have said Merry Christmas, after I told daddy how good you were in bed.”
“You what?!” Lottie grinned and drew Hari into a deep kiss.
“Told them that you’re a minx and mine.” Lottie nibbled her neck gently.
“Ooh...okay.” Hari moaned lightly “Lottie?”
Friday, December 28, 2012
Welcome back, Readers. This is the second part to my two part story. If you missed yesterdays I will attach a link at the bottom. ~Misty Harvey
A Christmas to Remember
Ten years ago this Christmas I found myself in a very different sort of place. I was a single mother of three children. My oldest was four years old. My youngest was only six months.
I was living with my mother as she’d grown ill and unable to live on her own. It was a rather lonely point in my life. Sure, I had my kids and my ill mother, but I was lonely for male companionship. I had signed up for one of those online dating sites many months prior. I’d gone out on a few dates, but up to that point none of them really amounted to much.
I received a message a few weeks prior from a man on the online site. We were talking over the phone and messenger. He seemed pretty alright. He’d just moved to the state a few months earlier, leaving his family and friends behind. He’d be alone for Christmas. That just didn’t sound like the right way to spend the holiday for anyone.
We talked a lot in those few weeks. My family offered him to join us for the holidays. None of us like knowing someone would be alone. Given that we decided to meet the week before. He called me one day to ask what I was doing. I explained I was playing hide and go seek with my oldest. He laughed and wanted to come join us.
I told him sure and gave him directions to my apartment. Okay, I pause here to inform you readers I’m horrible with directions. I missed a very important turn to arrive at my apartment complex. Somehow though, he still found his way to my door step an hour later. We played hide and go seek for awhile longer.
He stretched out across my living room floor after. My son, who was two at the time, used him like a jungle gym. I apologized profusely, but he laughed it off and played with him. He even laid my six month old daughter on the floor beside him to play with her too. She beat him in the head with this plastic toy donut I ordered out of a Cherrios box.
Okay, so the poor man was being physically abused by my children. I was embarrassed, but he laughed it off. It was all part of being a kid he told me. When my oldest daughter asked him to color he exclaimed he loved to color and proceeded to color with her. Mind you my son was still climbing and jumping on him, and my youngest was still lying beside him.
The four of them spent most of the day playing together. I just sat back and watched. A man playing with children is an incredible sight to see. I got them tucked into bed, and we settled in to watch movies until early morning.
We went on several dates after that both with the kids, and without. I learned so much about him in such a short time. By the time Christmas rolled around I knew what to buy him. He joined us that Christmas Eve.
As you read yesterday we have traditions. I believe our Christmas Eve party came as quite a shock to him. He hung back for a bit, but he shared a lot in common with my brother-in-laws. The men all grouped together to talk while us women ran the games and food. That Christmas he was part of our family, and we have been together since.
I share this tale with you knowing that Storytime Trysts is a romance site. This is a real life romance story. It is my romantic tale of how I met my husband. This year marks our 10th anniversary. Thank you all for reading about my Christmas to Remember.
So to my husband, Happy 10th Anniversary! And to you, my readers, I hope you all had a great holiday. I will see you all in January when I return with another story.
A Christmas to Remember: Part One
A Christmas to Remember: Part One
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Welcome readers. I have been writing with Storytime for a month or so now. When the opportunity to write something for December came about I couldn’t resist. Here is what I have brought you for today and tomorrow. Please join me.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, or joyful Holidays from my family to yours. ~ Misty Harvey
A Christmas to Remember
Growing up in my family meant huge Christmas Eve parties. I don’t mean those family parties that are spread out over December. I mean a time honored tradition that you can count on. Every December 24th a family member’s house that has been previously decided upon for the party, usually whichever of us has the most space. On this day we pack our families into the space like sardines. Sure it gets hot, even on cold winter days. But this is a tradition for us. The parties are circled around the children.
Food always came first. If you were a child you shoved that food down as quickly as you could. The faster you ate, the faster you could play the games, and eventually open a gift. Problem with this logic, the adults never see fit to eat fast. So there you are forced to sit and wait for the adults to finish chatting and eating. Your stomach is aching from the speed you ate the food, but you’d never admit it to an adult. Oh no, if you were sick, there were no games, and ultimately no sugary treats. So you’d walk around a bit more hunched, but hey it was Christmas.
Eventually, the parents would all deem they’d eaten enough with twinkles in their eyes. They know their children rushed to get to the fun things, and they took a certain joy out of tormenting their young just that much farther. Oh yes, never underestimate how aware a parent is of your Christmas excitement on that day. After all they were young once too.
Now it was time for the games to commence. Parents would somehow make room in the already cramped quarters. As I sit now an adult and look back on these Christmas Eve parties, I’m still not sure how they did it. I don’t know if parents just clung to walls like some sort of Spiderman or if they simply used vanished. Either way suddenly there was space for games.
There have been a variety of festive games that have passed through our Christmas parties over the years. Ones like pin the nose on Rudolph, relay races of every flavor, or even a fake snowball throwing one. A brightly colored frosty would taunt us from the other side of the room. Holes cut out in his stomach and one on either side of his head. His stomach gained you the most points at a whopping ten. The rules simple the one with the most points wins. We’d all throw ourselves into the games with reckless abandonment. Oh yes, well I beat this one. That was until my older sibling came along and beat us both at the game. The winner gained a prize, but let’s face it, in my family every child got a ‘winners’ prize. The games were rigged for it, not that as a child you paid attention. These are trade secrets I have learned since becoming an adult.
After all of the kids are wound tight making all sorts of noise, then and only then was it time to unwrap those gleaming packages under the tree. There is always a present for everyone, young and old, rich and poor family under there. If you are the youngest your eyes lit up bright, it meant you are the first to open. We’d somewhat impatiently wait as your one year old cousin takes forever to open their package. The oohs and aahs would occur and then it was on to the next.
Once the tree is bare of gifts, the children have all moved to the side to play with whatever they received, and only the adults are left admiring each other’s gifts. That is when every female descends upon the food filled tables. They work like a well oiled machine covering the products. Cold items are put in the fridge, warm items are cooling ready for transport, and the cleanup has begun. The house is left in a somewhat orderly condition, and then the parents pack up their sugar filled bundles of joy. The warnings of you have to go to sleep when we get home or Santa will not come begin. Oh yes, the poor parents. Sugar induced hyperness and bedtime were not a great combination.
These are the traditions that have been passed for many generations in my family. Each generation puts a slightly different spin on them. I participate as a child not that many years ago, just as my children participate now. Though a few of them have out grown the child aspect to it, and now are learning the trade secrets themselves. One day to pass it down to their children.
Tonight is Christmas Eve. The food has been inhaled. The games have all been finished, and the gifts have all been opened. Children are tucked in beds awaiting the jolly man. I sit watching my tree and I remember a Christmas Eve I will not soon forget. Join me tomorrow and I will share this journey with you.