In Once Upon a Christmas Moon: A collection of stories about the magic of romance at Christmas time.

Once Upon a Christmas Moon is by Christine Young, C.L. Kraemer and Genie Gabriel

REVIEW: Once Upon a Christmas Moon

Title: Once Upon a Christmas Moon

Author: Christine Young, C. L. Kraemer, Genie Gabriel

Rating: 5

Reviewer: James Charles

Three delightful short stories. Each one takes the reader into a fantasy world, even the one set post-Civil War, and serves up a well-rounded tale. Perfect stories for the cold months of winter. Wrap up in your blanket and grab a warm eggnog, and settle in to three different enchanting worlds.

EXCERPTS: Once Upon a Christmas Moon

Twelve Days to Love

Christine Young

Near New Orleans October 2,1867

“Sam! Close the shutters on the back landing. I’ll get the front. Hurry. There’s a storm coming.” Calanthe Durand felt the small hairs on the back of her neck rise and shivers run down her spine. A big storm was on its way, probably a hurricane. Energy and fear poured through her like the pounding rain and flooding that accompanied high winds. Closing the house to the storm was imperative.

Cali took a moment to smile. She’d heard Sam grunt. He didn’t talk much, but she wouldn’t have survived the war or these last two years without Sam and his daughter Daisy. Both sides, the North and the South, had occupied their home. Daisy and Sam were family, the only family she had. She’d do whatever was necessary to protect them. Even with emancipation, life wasn’t easy for blacks in the south.

“I’ve got them, Miss Cali.” Daisy rushed past her and out the door. Wind whipped her hair and tugged at her dress. Branches torn from trees landed on the porch.

Cali followed, the storm swirling around her, her hair beating against her face. Her breath was ragged, and fast as her heart thundered. She pushed and tugged at her skirt, trying to detangle the fabric from her legs. “Get inside!” The tempest raging around them swallowed her voice.

“Not until we’re finished here.” Daisy fastened a shutter before moving on to the next one.

They worked together to protect the windows from the storm on the raised porch which stood five feet off the ground as wind howled around the eaves. A steady rain poured from the black sky, and lightning slashed the darkness.

Cali pushed dripping strands of hair that had slipped from her chignon away from her face. “I’ll light the candles. It could get dark here pretty fast.”

“Horses and livestock are safe for now.” Sam stepped beside her. “Hope it’s not a big one.”

“Hello up there. Hello, bonjour, anyone home?”

Hearing the voice from below, Cali left the protection of the house to lean over the porch railing. Below her a man stood, with cupped hands to his mouth and a dead gator slung over one shoulder a quiver filled with arrows on the other. “Hello. Can I get shelter from the hurricane?”

“Don’t know if it’s a hurricane.” Terrified of unknown men, Cali didn’t want to do the charitable thing. She pursed her lips, thinking, but all that came to surface was memories of troops commandeering her home. Good lord but she’d had to hollow out a bedpost to hide her jewelry. The soldiers had taken everything they could see. Sometimes she felt as if the war had ripped her soul from her body.

“Maybe not a hurricane. Could be just a bad storm, but I don’t want to be on the swamp right now. The water’s rising.” A loud roar and a thunderclap followed his pause. Behind him an old Cyprus tree crashed to the ground, uprooted by the wind.

“You can take shelter in the stable.” Cali watched his back stiffen, while she swallowed hard, but she wasn’t about to back down. The stable was good enough for some wandering man who she owed nothing. Besides, there was a tack room with a bed. No one slept there anymore, but she kept it clean and the moss in the mattress was fresh. Daisy had rolled it out two days ago. Yet a small niggling in the back of her head kept telling her this wasn’t a traveling man but one of means. He was a man she should treat as a gentleman. She’d been taught better but the war had changed all that and the lessons she learned were not served to her with a silver spoon.

“Much obliged.” He nodded before turning toward the barn. His natural swagger and broad shoulders sent a different kind of sensation through her. Warmth swept inside, swirling within and heating her frozen heart. For a moment he looked back, a strange expression on his well-chiseled face.

Boots and Blades

C.L. Kraemer

High Desert, Central Oregon 

Killian stared at the rise of rock from the desert floor. The emerging sun tricked the sky into revealing pink and blue streamers across the horizon exposing the severe lines of craggy mountains. Pine trees scented the air, and the slightest hint of sage tickled his nose.

“Where are they disappearing to? They’re much too young to be running away.”

“Master Killian?”

The young man turned his blue gray eyes from the mountain to answer. “Yes, Ms. Luna. What can I do for you?”

“Are you sitting out here at this early hour worrying about the young ones?” Luna’s black hair was braided down her back and she sported a shawl bright with her clan’s colors. She handed the young man a steaming cup of coffee. “I hope you don’t mind black. I’ve yet to milk the goat.”

Killian flashed her a seldom seen smile. “Ms. Luna, you make the best coffee in the desert. Black is fine.”

Taking up a spot next to him on the porch, she turned her attention to the mountains admiring the soft colors of rose and tan springing to life in the morning sun. “What is it that haunts you so?”

“The illogicality of it all.”

“Aye, I figured that. It is indeed illogical. The children are too responsible to leave unannounced, yet they are snatched from their beds in the middle of the night with no clues.”

Killian sipped the wicked black brew and allowed the liquid to spike his taste buds. The brilliant light of a new day was caressing the landscape and warming the air. “The kinders disappearing are not inclined to run off. They are the eldest and most reliable. These missings make no sense. They don’t happen in the same area or at the same time. They’re completely arbitrary and being so—random—has given me pause to find a method. If I were to discover a pattern, the recovery would be simpler.”

Luna watched the anguish distort his handsome young face. His blue eyes clouded to a dark grey when he spoke of the missing children, and his normally full mouth stretched to a tight slash across his face.

“I don’t wish to sound cruel, but none of these are young ones of your own family. Why take their absence to heart?”

Killian relaxed his scowl a bit, and a smile began to touch his lips. “Because it is they who will be the leaders of our clans in but a few short years. I had hoped to retire my sword someday to warm my boots by a fire. Having a mate and young ones around isn’t such a bad idea.”

He automatically sipped his dark brew. It would indeed be nice to warm my feet by a fire with a mate and children. The problem being I’ve found no person who makes me think in such terms.

“Well, I must admit, Master Killian, I never would have thought you to be the settling type.” She picked up his cup, returning from the kitchen minutes later with fresh coffee in the container.

“Neither had I, Ms. Luna, neither had I, however, aside from our missing young ones, there has been no conflict between the clans, nor have the Others tried to interfere in our affairs in a very long time. It is a good thing for many but for me, what good is a warrior without a war?”

Luna could only agree with his forlorn assessment; what good, indeed, was a warrior without a war? “Maybe a solution will arrive in the near future. You never know.”

Killian shrugged his shoulders. Who knew indeed?

Christmas Pawsibilities

Genie Gabriel

“So where is this alien craft?”

Fletcher had never completely trusted Commander Viktor Atrocitor. Since he had taken command of GIG two years ago, the atmosphere at the agency had become cold and suspicious, like the man himself. He seemed carved from six and a half feet of granite, blocky and scowling.

“It has disappeared.” Fletcher knew this statement would draw Atrocitor’s ire and disdain, but what was the use of denying the obvious?

“Fool! Can you do nothing right?” Atrocitor turned to the GIG agents waiting at a wary distance. “Search the neighborhood. Someone must have seen something or is hiding them.”

While Atrocitor berated Fletcher, other GIG agents spread throughout the neighborhood, offending pretty much everyone by demanding they stay in their houses while their property was overrun and searched.

After two hours of fruitless searching, Commander Atrocitor called a halt. “If you want to save your career and this town, you will bring me these aliens within twenty-four hours.”

As Fletcher watched the caravan of GIG vehicles disappear down the road out of Watermark, he felt like a six-year-old kid again. Bullied and humiliated for his belief that beings from distant galaxies simply wanted to explore and build alliances. They weren’t like aliens in movies who wanted to destroy humanity.

That’s why Fletcher started working at Geeks in Green. He thought he found other humans like himself who believed alliances with aliens could benefit everyone. Now he was starting to believe the rumors about Commander Atrocitor being heartless and determined to eliminate aliens were true. How could he know for sure?

His thoughts were interrupted when Agnes staggered out the back door toward the barn. “Who’s disturbing my goats?”

With her hair disheveled and her clothes askew, she did indeed look as if she had spent a raucous night of partying—the after-effects of being zapped by a ray gun.

Laycee and Fletcher followed Agnes into the barn, where the spacecraft was once again visible. Now the hatch was open, with guards standing on either side pointing ray guns at Agnes, Laycee and Fletcher.

“Holy extraterrestrial!”

With a sizzle of purple, one of the alien guards fired his gun and Fletcher crumpled to the ground.

“Why did you do that?” Ryan hustled out of the spacecraft.

“He is of GIG,” one of the guards stated. “He is a danger to our Queen.”

“Is he dead?” Ryan knelt over Fletcher’s inert body.

“Simply stunned. We will revive him when the danger to our Queen is gone.” The two guards loaded Fletcher onto a transport board, which levitated and moved inside the spacecraft.

“Your mouth isn’t moving but I can hear your words.” Laycee’s shocked whisper matched the stunned expression in her eyes.

“Our Canine Queen is birthing and is not to be disturbed.” This time the alien’s mouth moved as he spoke, and he looked like any other human except for a twinkle of star light in his eyes. “Weren’t you getting milk for the royal puppies?”

“Yes.” Ryan refocused his attention on this task, determined to ignore Laycee’s presence. What was she doing here anyway? “Agnes, do you have milk from your goats?”

“My goats don’t much like to be milked.”

“Surely it can’t be that difficult,” Ryan said.

Agnes lifted an eyebrow. “You’re welcome to try. I’ll get a clean bucket.”

Determined to get milk for the Queen’s puppies, Ryan began stalking one of the goats.

“I think it should be a female,” Laycee said.

Ryan felt like a first grader again. “I knew that.”

Laycee coughed behind her hand to cover her laughter. “There’s a girl goat on top of the space ship.”

Ryan looked up the curved, smooth surface. “Maybe there’s another girl somewhere easier to reach.”

He stepped around the space ship and over the boards broken when the craft crashed through the roof. “There’s a girl! Help me get her into a stall.”

“Um-kay.”

While Ryan circled around the nanny goat one way, Laycee closed in on her from the other side. The little goat narrowed her eyes at the humans and, when they were within a couple feet of her, she let out a bleat and ran between Ryan’s legs. Startled, he stumbled and dropped to one knee.

“Watch out!” Laycee’s shout made Ryan turn in time to see an irritated male goat charging toward him.

REVIEW

4 STARS

This anthology contains three Christmas-themed stories.  The first and longest story, “Twelve Days to Love” by Christine Young, is set in Louisiana just after the Civil War.  It was my favorite in this book; exciting and romantic with an independent, likable heroine and a studly, honorable hero. This story did a fantastic job encapsulating the emotions, tensions, and uncertainty of the times.

The other two tales were fantasies.

In “Boots and Blades”, Children mysteriously disappear from a small community in Oregon.  Some later return, but are different. No one believes their recollections of their terrifying experiences until help arrives in a most unexpected way.  I loved the chemistry and bantering between Kiamoon and Killian.  Their strong bond and their determination to help the youngsters trapped in the high Oregon dessert made this story heart-touching.

“Christmas Pawsibilities” was an up-lifting and joyful ending to this holiday anthology.  Not as dark as “Boots and Blades” this story dealt with an alien ship crash-landing on Earth which led to the capture of the Queen’s consort.  This story deals with ingrained attitudes and cultural differences with a deft touch.  Handled in a compassionate and sometimes amusing way, this was a fun-to-read story that none-the-less delivers an important message.

I enjoyed reading Once Upon a Christmas Moon but thought the story combination would have been improved by making the individual stories a bit more homogenous.  For example, I love stories set in the 19th century American South, but it was quite a shock to my mind to finish “Twelve Days to Love”, and then jump into the somewhat dark fantasy about missing gnomes and warrior goddesses.  Still, all three stories were original and entertaining.  They make for a cozy holiday read – just tuck up under your favorite warm afghan while sipping hot chocolate.  All the stories are clean and wholesome, sure to appeal to most readers regardless of age.

Reviewed by Laurie-J

 

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