Here’s a little bit of paranormal romance Flash fiction to get you into the holiday mood. :) It’s a little in the same vein as Murder upon a Midnight Clear, but I hope you enjoy it.
No such thing as Dasher
Juli D. Revezzo
The hoof print on the vic’s forehead told Christie someone had a sick idea of Christmas. Death by blunt trauma to the head.
She and her partners did all they could to gather evidence, the first step in their investigation and then Christie climbed into her cruiser. She was late for mom’s Christmas dinner. No time to change, she’d have to go in her uniform. Mom would chew her out but at least she wouldn’t give any blind date mom had cooked up any ideas.
Main Street glowed red and green. A most obnoxious house sported a singing Santa, reindeer, and dancing elves, on the roof. Dad’s nemesis. She couldn’t see home yet, but she knew what to expect. Could swear she heard the ho-ho-hos from here. Dad never did obey the noise ordinances when it came to his decorations. Why should he, when his daughter was a cop?
Something large darted into the street ahead of her. Christie slammed on her brakes, but skidded into the beast.
Christie felt its body tumble under her wheels. The impact tossed her every which way, despite her seatbelt. Her car slid to a stop, slamming into a massive, aluminum candy cane. She smacked her head on the steering wheel.
Dazed, she could’ve sworn the animal rose up through her hood. A rack of impressive horns grew from its crown. Glowing red eyes studied her through the windshield.
The animal-being shimmered and turned into a half-naked man. He reached through her windshield and tugged her into his warm, furry arms.
“Merry Christmas, Christie,” he said, and kissed her.
Christie accepted the kiss. A feeling of comfort and safety in the heat of him washed over her, a feeling she couldn’t explain. She, just for a moment, thought she could see the two of them alone before a fireplace.
A moment later she felt herself ooze to the sidewalk, alone.
Trembling, Christie got to her feet and searched. Seeing no tracks, no evidence of anything other than skid marks from her tires and the broken yard decorations she’d plowed into, she laughed to herself. Kissed by Dasher. I must be hallucinating.
Dinner would have to wait. She pulled her cell phone from her belt and dialed 911, sure that despite the pain in her head and the taste of his magical kiss still on her lips, she must be out of it. Mom was never going to believe this excuse.
copyright 2013, Juli D. Revezzo