A peek at my fantasy office. No, really! There's a delightful misconception in the literary world, a near-legendary tale that authors are fueled purely by coffee—cup after cup of that intoxicating brew, our muse for every page turned and every tale spun. But here's a little secret from my corner of the fantasy realm: while most authors are downing espressos and lattes, I'm sipping on apple cider. Yes, you read that right. Sparkling apple juice is my potion of choice, the golden elixir that fuels my tales of enchanting worlds and passionate shifters.
Author Flash Fiction: Parody Love Fiction
At times a writer gets these odd little quirks to jot down silly anecdotes. I believe this is one of those days to share a few. Beware for there is an overuse of flowery words and bad puns in this formulaic parody attempt of the various romantic plots that wonderfully exist in this world.
Love in Space
Ferdinand wondered what he would tell the others. He was overwhelmed with joy. Just a week(A week? It seemed like a millennium ago), he had been sure that he would never fall in love, that he would resist the unclean thoughts that nibbled like disease-spreading parasites at the edges of his brain and remain chaste for the sake of peace.
Any passion he felt was directed towards his duty: to lead the people of Rosaland into revolution and thereby make those horrid dreams go away at last. One week, and how that had changed.
He struggled for breath as he whirled to face the love of his life, Princess Tulip, who with her big bucks and political power could have any man she desired. "You're as attractive as peace itself," he murmured softly. "Even this bleeding wound could not keep me from you. A love like ours will never die." He smiled, hoping the blood stains would wash out of his armor.
Love of the Bloodsucker
Tanner wondered what he would tell his landlady. He was hot stuff. Just a week,(A week? It seemed like a century) ago, he had been sure that he would never fall in love, that he would resist the persistent nagging of his mother, who wanted grandchildren, and remain virginal for the Nation. Any passion he felt was directed towards his lifelong task: to address the class struggle he saw tearing his country apart and thereby change the world.
One week, and all that changed.
He embraced the love of his life, Penelope, who had managed to teach herself Latin, Greek, English, modern and ancient history, and geography, despite the abase poverty she was born into. "My life was a lonely wasteland before I met you," he murmured softly. "Even being shot twelve times at close range could not keep me from you. A love like ours makes me long for Utopia to finally be realized." He smiled, trying to decide if this was a good time to mention he was a vampire.
Love at the House
Waiting alone in the Bounce Chamber, remembering its bloody history, with the plaintive braying of the Don's llamas wafting in from outside, Alicia - she who had always seemed so cold - thought once more of Mr. Oliver, the deaf troubadour. He was now, according to three independent witnesses, installing Windows 5000. Then came a barbaric YAWP at the heart of the world, and she rose to face the inevitable. He was here!
"Your love has lifted me higher than I've ever been lifted before, my giddy little goose!" he warbled, flexing his sweaty yet muscular biceps, and as the horror of these last months vanished in a blaze of joy, she mused that now that she'd gotten laid, she could finally concentrate on important things.
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