The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(13)

She couldn’t let him go without knowing his kiss, how it tasted and felt. So with a gasp, she lifted her face and kissed him. Souls can join with a kiss, but the hearts that housed them would break the next instant.

With a groan, he spoke against her lips. “It is not our time now, but I’ll come back for you, Mac.” He smiled at her name. “Lovely Mac, I will love you, and you will love me.” He glanced at the bright sun shining into the stone chamber. “Och, ’tis time.”

Mac opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he stole one more kiss.

“Remember this moment. I promise you more.” He turned and walked into the stone chamber.

Mac put her hand on the stone entryway to steady herself. She felt dizzy and weak. “Ciaran, where are you going?”

He turned to look back, and he smiled. “I’m a traveler, lass. I cannae stay here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ll think me daft if I tell you, but you’ll ken when I’m gone.”

“No, I think you’re daft now.” She smiled, but tears blurred her vision.

“I live in the past.”

“Me too. That’s what Cam always tells me, but—”

“Mac, listen to me.” With a flinch, he pulled back. “’Tis too late.” He held his palm up to caution her to stay back.

Ignoring his warning, Mac rushed toward him and held his hand. A shock traveled through her. She pulled back her hand.

“Dinnae touch me again.”

“But why?” She rubbed her wrist, which was tingling and numb.

With a sad smile, he said, “Will you wait for me?”

“Yes, if you kiss me like that again.” Mac’s lips spread into a smile that would not be repressed.

“You’re the one who kissed me.”

The last thing she saw was his smile. Blinding light shone from the sun behind her and from inside the chamber, like two mirrors reflecting each other. The brilliant light washed over Ciaran.

And he disappeared.

She could still hear him saying, “Lovely Mac, I will love you, and you will love me.” The last part of his promise was already true. He was gone, and she may have gone mad, but she knew he would come back. Until then, she would remember that moment.





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J.L. Jarvis graduated from the University of Illinois and worked in opera and musical theatre (New York City Opera, Houston Grand Opera, national tours of Broadway shows, and summer stock). When she tired of starving, she attended the University of Houston, where she obtained a teaching certificate, a law degree, and a love of research and writing. A year of family law practice convinced her that she should instead teach and write, which she now happily does. Visit J.L. Jarvis online and sign up to get new release news at:

http://news.jljarvis.com





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A KickAss Kiss


Shirley Bourget


“Kiss Ass. Kiss Up. Kiss Off. Momma shoulda named me The Kiss. I’ve learned to do it more ways than a pack of whores who’ve been turning tricks 24/7 for years.

“It gets confusing sometimes, and sometimes I forget the true nature of things, but most times I can paint my lips the brightest red, or dull ‘em down to the palest pink, depending on what you, or I, need.

“Need to feel good about yourself? No problem. I’ll sidle up and plant a big juicy one right on your ear! That way you’ll think I’m the damnedest thing, and reward me just for being here.

“Not feeling too generous lately? Got it covered. I’ll untuck those cheeks and nibble your buns ‘til wealth’s pouring outta that rear! And if I’m real careful…, and take my time…, I won’t have to eat any shit!

“And when I’m finally done with you, I can slip away and make it all seem like it’s your fault that I’m leaving. I’ll raise a ruckus so emotionally adept that you’d put yourself in the doghouse just for treating me that way!

“Yep, I got this kissing thing down. ‘Sept when it comes to for real… The dead can’t kiss for real. Their lips are too numb. And there’s no Prince Charming in the world with enough heat to melt that kinda permafrost.

“I’ve been dead for years. Truth is it’s been so long, that I can’t really remember living. That’s why I said that sometimes the kissing gets confusing. I’ve been giving people what they want, and sucking face for what I need for so long now, that I can’t remember what it is just to be kissed.

“Hell, maybe I never really was just kissed. Maybe it’s only ever been for something that would get me somewhere. I don’t really know…

“Every now and then though, the glimmers of a dream kiss filters into my brain. A kiss that’s warm and sweet, full of love and respect. Full of the want of me. Not the me that makes people feel good physically, or makes ‘em feel attractive, or young, or happy, but the me that I keep locked away. Yeah… that me dreams of being kissed for real…” The woman heaved a big sigh, “…but it’s been so long since I let that girl out, I can’t even find the key.” Her brows knit together as she looked at me sideways.

What was I to say to this woman sitting next to me? Had life really been that hard on her that she had simply stopped living? What could have caused her to go through the motions of living without the warmth and comfort of actually being alive?