Following the journey of award winning author, Alex Azar, as he travels the publishing world and all things interesting. To reproduce or publish any material found within this blog, please contact me at azarrising@hotmail.com

Monday, November 21, 2011

Latest Story Acceptance

Good tidings to all! Doesn't it feel like Halloween just passed us?

Today's good news comes courtesy of Yule Tide Terror the latest anthology I've been accepted in.  "The Last Noel" is a tale that explains why Santa Claus has all those different names, and the real story behind the elves is finally revealed.

Warning: If you still believe in the magic of Christmas time you may not want to read any further.

Below is a quick excerpt from the story.


Reaching into his velour bag that’s deeper than it looks, I find a heavy winter coat, and sure enough on a tag hanging from the zipper is my name.  I put it on, and the chill just melts away, “Wow, this is the warmest jacket ever, thank you sir.”
“Please call me Santa, or Chris, or Papa… the different people I’ve gotten over the years tend to choose a name they think will be more relatable to their countrymen.” 
“Hmm, well if it were up to me…” 
“It is up to you, as of now, my entire lore is up to you. No pressure, Ho Ho Ho.” He jokes, but it is a lot of pressure. 
“Ok then, as an American, I’m partial to the classic, good ole Santa Claus… it’s…” the rest of my thought trails off as does the air in my lungs and surrounding space.
Santa takes the reign and cracks the whip with what looks like anger in his eyes, “Hey you shits, I told you when I’ve got someone in here with me you can’t fly so damn high!”
The sled drops altitude and air returns to me, “Thank you, Santa.” The display of anger still throwing me off.  While it’s a natural reaction for anyone, I imagined him, freaking Santa Claus to be above such things.
“These shitheads almost killed Josefina a few weeks back.  They think because they’re immortal I won’t punish them.”
Choosing to focus on the only thing in those statements that wasn’t negative, I ask. “Is Josefina Mrs. Claus?”
“Ho Ho Ho, no she’s this fine piece of Brazilian tail that’s got that Memento thing going on.  Poor chick can’t remember she bangs the real Santa every few months, so she can’t tell people about me.  Ho Ho Ho.”  The bass of his laugh vibrates in my lungs, but I don’t find the joy in it I did mere minutes ago. “I like you Sammy, feels life I could be myself in front of you.”

After reading that, I'm sure we can all agree your Christmas shopping list is done. You're welcome!