Christmas Eve. 1941. Hong Kong.
A continuous bevy of shots from assault rifles and machine gun fire filled the air like a devilish percussion straight from hell. Mortars and grenades exploded around them like thunder cracks of mass destruction. Bullets, dirt, and shrapnel shot through the air. Men shouted and screamed as blood poured out upon the earth.
“Danny!” Joe yelled as he saw his friend take a bullet.
Crimson blood stained the front of his olive-drab field jacket as he clutched at his stomach. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
Joe bolted forward from the protection of the foxhole. Continue reading “Show Me Peace”
His fingers slid around the iron handle of the dagger beneath his cloak and he squared his shoulders, standing between his family and the men in the doorway
They were obviously foreigners, but, from their diverse appearances, they looked to be each from a different place.
Who were they?
The clothes that they wore were no pauper’s rags. They looked to be exceedingly wealthy, but that would beg the question, why were they here? Continue reading “God With Us”
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Eve said as she watched the young woman.
“She looks so tired,” Sarah commented.
The girl’s pale face and heavy-lidded eyes undershadowed by dark circles clearly reinforced the statement. Continue reading “Especially Now”
Doug made his way through the crowded corridors of O’Hare. His bag hung over his shoulder and the pain in his back letting him know that his body didn’t appreciate the long flight. He wasn’t so young anymore, but the sleepless nights had taken their toll and left him feeling far older than his sixty-two years. He trudged outside through the doors and a rush of cold air blasted him in the face. He pulled the collar of his coat tighter and glanced around. The sun had long-since set and the city was lit by street lamps and neon signs. Cold flakes of snow were just beginning to fall from the black night sky.
Doug waited for a cab, trying several times unsuccessfully to get one to stop. When he finally he got one, he slipped into the backseat and set his bag down beside him.
The young driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Hey, where you goin’, pops?” Continue reading “Prodigal Christmas”
Cue a jingly Christmas tune. Close-up shots of Christmas ornaments. Fade in and out actors credits followed by a Christmas-y, possibly clever, potentially cheesy title. Now enter the main players, they aren’t in love, then they are, then they aren’t, and then they are again. Yet more often than not we’ll tune in to watch them or record them on our DVR and walk away with satisfaction. So, the question is…why? And what can we, as writers, learn from them? Continue reading “5 Things Writers Can Learn from Hallmark Christmas Movies”