“Four years have passed now, and no one has come to claim her. I doubt anyone would believe a little girl has survived in these mountains within the dragon’s lair.”

Featured in Zooscape e-zine

Dragon Child

My short story, "A Thousand More", can be found in the Lost Love Anthology by Dragon Soul Press. "A Thousand More" is about reincarnated lovers who just can't seem to stay together.

Featured in Lost Love Anthology

A Thousand More

short stories

You’ve heard the story of the princess trapped in the tower, the damsel in distress awaiting her white knight. The story is almost too common that when I set out for this quest, I had my every move planned. Save the beautiful princess from whatever evil had her trapped there and deliver her to the king for a handsome sum. Easy money.

Can you imagine my surprise when I arrived at said tower, so high up that you can barely make out the top through the clouds, to find this, this mess? The princess, should I even grace her with such a pleasant title, is nothing I expected. Any princesses I’d heard about were legendary beauties with poise, and grace, and a general appreciation for someone who has risked their life to save them.

An Unlikely Damsel

Discover the forbidden love affair of Life and Death in my romantic fantasy short story.” Published in Stormy Island Publishing's Fated Anthology.

Featured in Fated Anthology

For the Love of Life

“I see the moon, and the moon sees me.”

Her voice carries on the night breeze as it winds its way through the tall weeds, loosening soft petals from their bud to swirl above, higher and higher still. And Esme twirls with them, her sheer nightdress ghostly pale; a beacon in the night. It calls to Edmund, and he finds her this way.

Only the Moon Sees

It isn’t that complicated, but kind of is. I mean, we see this kind of thing in rom coms and silly television shows on a regular basis. And we always assume we know how it’s going to end. Until you’re in the middle of it, and there are suddenly all these equations you never considered. It’s just, well, it goes a little something like this: he loves her, she doesn’t even know he exists, and I am crazy for him.

Now this could go one of three ways in my head. They could fall madly in love and make me want to lose my lunch every time I see them together. I could finally become brave enough to admit my feelings for him and we end up together. Or all of us continue living our lives, pining over the people we can’t have.

It Goes a Little Something Like This

“I see the moon, and the moon sees me.”

Her voice carries on the night breeze as it winds its way through the tall weeds, loosening soft petals from their bud to swirl above, higher and higher still. And Esme twirls with them, her sheer nightdress ghostly pale; a beacon in the night. It calls to Edmund, and he finds her this way.

Only the Moon Sees

The burn comes first. It goes down, chased by a sharp intake of breath. Down it flows, pooling in her belly, lining the insides. More goes down, numbing the path. She can barely taste it, and now she doesn’t have to hold her breath. Her veins tingle, her mind buzzes, and she no longer feels like herself. I am coming, the one Jenny has come to depend on in such social crisis.

Drunken Spoils

"Stella B James considers stereotypes of femininity in her story To Be a Girl."

                      ~Shooter Literary Magazine

To Be a Girl

You were the life of the party, constantly surrounded by giggling girls. And I was the cynical one, the one who never wanted to catch your eye. But somehow, I did, and I had only one thing to fear. What would happen if I fell in love with you?

If I Fell

My mama lived by three simple rules and merely twelve hours after her death, I had broken them all. But what mama don’t know can’t hurt her.

The Unspoken Rule

He loves me.

I study the petal held between my fingertips with interest, amused that something so fragile could determine my heart’s fate. I drop it to float down and land on the pavement where many discarded petals lay scattered at my feet.

My head falls back, breathing in a sigh of contentment, enjoying the warmness that spreads over me. Warm like his fingers when they accidentally brush against mine. Warm like his honey brown eyes that sometimes linger on me when I am up at the board working out a frustrating math equation. Warm like his voice that soothes over me as his breath tickles against my cheek.

Love Me Not

©2020 by Stella B James. Website Design by Nicole Hayley Art with Wix.com