Tag Archives: short read

Tartarus Bellows is Free on Amazon Kindle

Here comes another of Eden Freed’s short stories for our liquid Friday fun.
This one is a fairy tale based on Slavic and Balkan tales, written in collaboration with Dimitri Romanov.  Enjoy this short read on Kindle or Kindle Unlimited.  Glimpse the world of magic and fairy tales with Tartarus Bellows.

What should we drink tonight?  What would you expect a hero of a Slavic or Balkan tale to have?  Of course a nice glass of Rakia.  You say there are many types:  yes I agree, and the best one is Slivovitz, a plum brandy.  You choose your brand, pour yourself a glass and stop wasting time.  Kick back, relax and grab a copy of Tartarus Bellows for full enjoinment.  Remember, it’s free on Kindle for the next two days. The book that is, not Slivovitz, sorry.

Blurb:

Our perfectly flawed hero Erroris embarks an adventure to discover that love is as ancient as the forest Baba Yaga lives in and maybe just as dangerous. Journey to the heart of the matter and find out if good really does triumph over evil and whether or not the devil does get his due. This short story is based on old Slavonic and Balkan tales with a modern twist. Would you be willing to brave the perils on earth and dive into the depths of hell for the sake of love?

Excerpt:

“Erroris, you pitiful excuse for a demon, get in there and drag out the wicked for judgment!” Likho screeched and angrily cocked his one eye at the lesser demon. “If I didn’t know any better I would think that you pitied these deviant mortals. Tartarus has a place for demons that fail to serve.”

Likho’s words caused Erroris to hold his tongue, lest the coals be raked across it again. He had no heart for his job. How could he help bring the wicked to justice when he had no concept of true evil? Can one know evil without first seeing good? There has to be more to this existence than torment and torture. What I would give for one mortal lifetime!

As if Likho could hear his thoughts, he walked over and squeezed Erroris’ mouth open forcing his tongue to hang out like the three-headed beast Cerberus’ after a run. Without releasing the pressure on the hollows of Erroris’ cheeks, Likho bellowed, “I don’t see it in there, but if you have even the smallest piece of goodness in you we will scare it out, once and for all. You will go live among the mortals. Once your talons begin to show, you’ll be back here and Zmey, the dragon guardian of Tartarus will slowly devour your black heart.” Likho loosened the grip on Erroris’ face and grinned a wicked smile that could inspire fear even in a demon.

Mustering what little courage remained, Erroris asked, “And if I’m good?”

Doubled over and clutching his abdomen with two clawed hands, Likho laughed. It was a sound that anyone in Tartarus seldom heard and it struck a dark chord of fear in even the bravest demon. The sound reached Zmey and roused the dark beast from slumber. It shook ash off its leathery wings and sharpened its claws on the jagged obsidian rocks where it bedded down. Erroris felt the sudden and unmistakable sensation of claws digging into his shoulders.

Eat Dessert First

And here is the second story from Eden’s Garden.  Eat Dessert First is a light LGBT romance short read for your enjoyment.  Available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.

Blurb:

Lelo has the ultimate friendship in Sasha. A person that cares for her, supports her, makes her laugh and enjoy life. Will she risk it all and follow her heart for a chance at romance? What if Sasha doesn’t share her feelings, doesn’t understand and walks away? Is it worth risking the friendship?

Excerpt:

My pulse quickened as Sasha took my hand and led me into her freshly decorated bedroom. Libraries had only slightly larger collections of history books than she had amassed. Every wall of the room from the floor to the ceiling was lined with them. I felt EatDessertFirstCoverJPGunworthy and stood there in a sort of rapturous awe akin to a religious experience.

“When I move, I’m giving these to you, Lelo,” she laughed but her cheeks didn’t light up the way they used to.

“Don’t you want to read them again?” My question made her look up at the ceiling. As familiar as I was with the gesture, I didn’t understand her tears. We shared everything, even embarrassing things like our first dates and the first time we had our hearts broken. Silent tears were strange creatures that kept the distance between us, but they had become increasingly familiar over the years.

When I first moved to Somerville, in second grade, Sasha was my first friend. I was her only friend. We painted each other’s nails and shared the same stick of bubble gum. There was a certain shyness in her soul that beckoned me like a moth to a flame. The fire in her made me burn with a curiosity to know everything. We began our kindred search with history books.

Twenty years and seven address changes later we were still best friends. We posted book reviews and critiques, sent countless emails, and spoke on the phone daily, though seldom saw each other. Her father was stationed in Los Alamos and we were both finished with college. She wanted to be closer, so I found an apartment for her. With my best pair of Keds on, I helped move carefully sealed boxes out of the van and into the freshly painted apartment. We sat on the floor and ate Chinese food unfolding the food containers into plates.

“You want me to help you unpack?”

“I’ll drive you nuts with my library OCD. Everything has to be in the correct order or I’ll spend hours fixing it,” she laughed pointing to numbers on the boxes. I knew all of her nuances. There was nothing more I wanted than to tell her everything I felt in my heart, but the fear of losing our friendship stopped me.

“You sure? I can count, you know.”

“No, I’m good. It will wait until tomorrow,” she said, laying her head against my shoulder. Her silken tresses brushed against my neck and I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her so close that I could feel her heart beating like a hummingbird’s. My gut told me something was wrong, but I was too afraid to find out what it was. Silently, I prayed that she would confide the torment of her soul, but the hush only grew between us until I said goodnight.