Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

THIRDS Thanksgiving Special


“Blasted hell.”

Hudson tossed the pillows off the bed, followed by the duvet. Not there either. He cursed under his breath as he continued to turn his bedroom upside down. This was ridiculous. Where could they be? He ransacked every drawer, looked under all the furniture, checked the bathroom, and even the cupboards. Nothing. Continue reading THIRDS Thanksgiving Special

“Floods End” by Ginn Hale


This vignette is something of a prologue for the forthcoming novella, ‘Get Lucky’ (coming out this December in the Once Upon a Time in the Weird West anthology). The story takes place in the same steampunk, weird west setting as ‘The Hollow History of Professor Perfectus’ (published in the anthology Magic and Mayhem), as well as The Long Past collection, which will be released in January 2018. -Ginn


Dalfon Elias drew his horse to halt at the top of the wooded hill and considered the overgrown road ahead of him. As he dismounted, a little green pterosaur that had been occupied drinking from a muddy rut took flight into a flowering dogwood. Otherwise the road appeared largely abandoned and the surrounding lush forest stood quiet in the early morning sun. Dalfon crouched. The tracks that he followed weren’t difficult to pick out; the two nails missing from the horse’s hind shoe left a particularly distinct impression. Continue reading “Floods End” by Ginn Hale

“Down to the Bone” by Nicole Kimberling


The victim lay on the table and the bright lights shining down on the body allowed the Dr. Peter Fontaine to examine the injuries in great detail. The rich, flawless brown skin appeared to be nearly perfect except for the very clear presence of bite marks on the lower left leg.

Who could have taken such a depraved step? Who, seeing this perfect beauty would savagely tear into her with their teeth alone?

Peter adjusted the lights and leaned in to examine the wound more closely, photographing the jagged edges in detail.

They would need to get a forensic dentist in—to make a mold of the teeth for further identification.

Then a long shadow fell across the subject. Looking up he saw Lt. Olson standing, arms crossed over his chest observing him.

Are you finished?” he asked.

I think I need a couple more minutes to document this to narrow down the suspects,” Peter mumbled.

Suspects?” Nick moved around the table to get a clearer view of the injury that had captured Peter’s attention. “To me this seems like an open and shut case.”

Peter glanced up to see the corner of Nick’s mouth twist up in a quirky half-smile. Now that he’d fully broken the surface of his TV coroner fantasy the real world swirled in around him. He felt the heat of the kitchen and heard the music drifting up from where their guests sat in the living room.

Yet Nick stood there frowning down at the turkey like the best crime-scene re-enactor around.

“I found a resident of the house behaving suspiciously and, on a hunch, processed her coat for trace evidence,” Nick went on. “I found evidence of butter, sage and parsley.”

“What do you mean the behaving suspiciously?” Peter asked. He couldn’t believe that Nick was playing along with this. Or that he had somehow known exactly what had been going on in Peter’s head.

Had he been talking to himself out loud? Granted, that sometimes happened but usually only when he was drunk and he hadn’t had even cracked open a single Thanksgiving beer yet.

“The subject was observed standing in a corner licking her chops in an exaggerated manner.” Nick pointed to the corner of the kitchen where their cat, Gigi sat. Her long pink tongue flicked out and around her muzzle as though it was an independent creature. “I don’t think we’ll get a confession out of her, but I think if we subject her to a sniff test we’ll get a whiff of poultry. I’m pretty sure we can get a conviction.”

“But look at her.” Peter whirled around, clutching at Nick’s shirtfront. He seemed slightly taken aback but then resolved himself back into her role of sardonic detective. Peter wound his fingers harder in Nick’s sweater. “She’s clearly starving.”

They both paused to take in the decidedly round torso of their fluffy feline—nearly both broke down into laughter but somehow maintained.

“But the evidence is right there. Anyone looking at it will know there has been a crime.” Nick pointed to the molested turkey leg. “It’s out of our hands.”

“But what if we take it apart,” Peter whispered.

“You mean destroy evidence of cat lips?”

“Birds get carved all the time. All we have to do is take these legs off, slice the breast and put it on a platter.”

“Dismembering the body, huh?” Nick gave a low whistle. This attracted Gigi, who started circling his leg. “It could work.”

“No one needs to know about the cat lips.” Peter drew nearer. “The bird was already dead anyway.”

“But we know where those lips have been,” Nick pointed out. “Dark places. Nasty places.”

“We can just cut that part off,” Peter persisted. “If I leave it on the floor I’m pretty sure the remaining evidence will vanish.”

Their course decided, they set to the carcass quickly.

It was greasy work. More than once, Peter’s fingers plunged into stuffing, but in the end the bones were picked clean and the slices artfully arranged on a platter.

Nick bore the grand dish into the dining room. Peter followed behind, holding a gravy boat.

Both heard the tiny sound of cat lips smacking behind them, but neither said a word.



Nicole Kimberling lives in Bellingham, Washington with her wife, Dawn Kimberling, two bad cats as well as a wide and diverse variety of invasive and noxious weeds. Her first novel, Turnskin, won the Lambda Literary Award for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror. She is also the author of the Bellingham Mystery Series.

The Bellingham Mystery Series is available here. I cannot recommend this series enough. READ IT!!! No, really. Go get these books and read them.

The Devil Lancer Thanksgiving by Astrid Amara


December 7, 1865 – San Francisco, California

Thanksgiving had been an official holiday in the United States since President Lincoln had declared it so in 1863. In California, however, it had been celebrated during the turbulence of the Gold Rush in 1849, so Elliott Parrish had enjoyed many such festive meals prior to this one. Continue reading The Devil Lancer Thanksgiving by Astrid Amara

“Thanksgiving Marshmallows” by Rhys Ford



It was going to be her most favourite holiday, Deacon decided. Sure, Christmas would always hold a special place in Zig’s heart and he’d done his damned best on her birthday but Thanksgiving—this Thanksgiving—was going to break all expectations.

Because for the first time in Zig’s short, tumultuous hard life, she was in a place she called home and was elbow deep into the cavity of a thawed out twenty-pound turkey, shoving balls of Portuguese-sausage-and-mushroom stuffing into its cavernous hollow. Continue reading “Thanksgiving Marshmallows” by Rhys Ford

Giving Thanks for Clean Forks by Edmond Manning


I knew when I asked Edmond Manning to write up a post for Thanksgiving I was asking for something that was both going to be funny and heartfelt.  He has an amazing capacity to make me laugh and cry.  Okay, so I’m not always thankful for that crying part.  ~ Faye



I have been very quiet about a special relationship of mine. It started a year ago and I announced it on Facebook. At the time, I got a ton of relationship advice and even a few jeers about how I was already ‘doing it wrong,’ so I retreated and nurtured this relationship in private. And though I haven’t talked about this relationship publicly, we see each other daily. Mostly in the kitchen. I don’t feel judged. I give this relationship my nastiest, grungiest parts of me and together, we make everything clean. Continue reading Giving Thanks for Clean Forks by Edmond Manning

I’m Not Eating That by Anne Tenino


For many of us, there is a special food we associate with the holiday that we fill our plates with.  And there is a “special” food we associate with the holiday and we do our best to avoid it.  We all had a relative who was… not as skilled in the kitchen as other people in the family.  My family has grand machinations to keep one specific person from cooking.  And that’s to say nothing of those traditional family dishes that we all hate yet someone always brings.  My grandfather insisted we always have a “salad” of cherries, coconut, bananas, marshmallows, and nuts.  Not fresh cherries.  Cherry pie filling.  Ahh, memories. ~ Faye


What does Thanksgiving mean to you? Continue reading I’m Not Eating That by Anne Tenino

Thanksgiving in December by Josephine Myles


English speaking North Americans understand the whole Thanksgiving thing even if we can’t agree upon the dates.  I was curious what people not immersed in this madness thought of us as we engage in our yearly harvest festival and go crazy for pie made of squash.  Josephine Myles was kind enough to give a British perspective on our yearly spectacle.  It seems we aren’t that crazy, but we, again, have our celebration at the wrong time and call it something different.  Which is typical.  The Americans and The British: two people separated by a common language. ~ FayeHappyThanksgiving

Thanksgiving. What’s all the fuss about? It’s just Christmas Dinner a month early. Continue reading Thanksgiving in December by Josephine Myles

Wild Turkey by Rhys Ford


I’m always curious about how fictional characters spend the holidays.  Who is surprisingly festive and who is surprisingly… not?  Rhys Ford was kind enough to write a Thanksgiving ficlet about the abundant and gregarious Morgan family.  I was not surprised Miki hid out with a bottle of hootch, but he did manage to surprise me.  Brigid and I are very thankful. ~ FayeHKThanksgiving

“Them downstairs? They’re fucking loons.” Damien shivered as he plopped down next to Miki, nudging his best friend over so he had space on the bean bag nest Miki’d made against a dormer window. “Mad as fucking hatters, the lot of them.” Continue reading Wild Turkey by Rhys Ford

Canadian Thanksgiving by Kate Sherwood


It’s no secret that I love to cook.  That my favorite holiday would be Thanksgiving isn’t much of a stretch.  I tend to focus on the food aspects of the holiday.  Sometimes I try to look past the gravy boat, and see what there is to the holiday.  This year I asked some friends to talk about what the holiday means for them.  I am very thankful they agreed to do so. ~Faye




“Living next to the United States is a little like sleeping with an elephant. You always wonder if they will roll over on you.” – Pierre Trudeau, former Prime Minster of Canada


The American elephant definitely does some trumpeting about its Thanksgiving celebrations! From airports to football to shopping, the Canadian mouse knows how its neighbour (that’s right, there’s a ‘u’ in that word!) celebrates the holiday. But what about the Canadian version?

Well, Canadian Thanksgiving comes first, in the history books and on the calendar. Martin Frobisher, Newfoundland, 1578. Take that, 1621 Pilgrims. And modern Canadian Thanksgiving is celebrated on the second Monday in October, a month and a half before the American version. I’ve got to say, mid-October seems like a more reasonable time for a harvest festival. Sure, there’s parts of the U.S. that are a lot warmer than Canada, but even there, what is being harvested in late November?!?

Maybe the later date accounts for the shopping frenzy of the Americans, too, since the holiday is so close to Christmas. We don’t really have that in Canada. Thanksgiving is more about the food and the family, less about the shopping.

I think there’s a bit of a ‘celebrate nature’ tradition in Canada, as well – a lot of families go for hikes in the afternoon of T-giving day, either burning off the big meal or building up an appetite, for those who eat later in the day. And most Canadians who are lucky enough to have cottages spend T-giving there, one last visit before closing the place up for the winter.

Also, we don’t put marshmallows on our sweet potatoes. That’s just weird.

Overall, though? Thanksgiving is definitely a holiday about family, just like it is in the States. My favourite Thanksgiving movie is American: Home for the Holidays, with Holly Hunter trying to deal with her impossible, exasperating, much-loved family.

I’m writing this a few days after Canadian Thanksgiving at my parents’ cottage, which featured kids screaming about new insults and adults still stewing about old ones. But it also had a lot of laughter, tender moments, and reconnecting with the people who’ve known us longest and in some ways still know us best. I’m glad we have Thanksgiving as an occasion to get together and catch up. I’m also glad it only happens once a year!

So, elephant or mouse, Thanksgiving really is about family, either the one you were born into or the one you’ve created. I think that’s something worth celebrating, on either side of the border.


Kate Sherwood‘s website can be found here.