BUY Short Story Fiction: No Wedding Night by Neale Sourna [PDF / Kindle]

A wedding, a reception brawl, and the bride and groom’s wedding night will be in jail. Or will it? _866 words Romance

Free Short Story Fiction: No Wedding Night by Neale Sourna

No Wedding Night

by

Neale Sourna

_Las Vegas NV USA; Today

Fisticuffs, as my Great Gran would say, broke out at our wedding; just before our vows were done. It was my bride’s brother against my best brother slash best man; then her sister slash matron of honor against my favorite girl cousin teamed with that cuz’s favorite BFF.

A groomsman, with valiant stupidity, waded into the fray—with the unladylike womenfolk—and got promptly damaged, slightly.

The police were called, by someone. No one’s admitting it. The cops settled everyone down. Thankfully, no one went to jail, or the hospital.

All right the hard part.

She cried, out of frustration, out of disappointment, out of embarrassment, while locked in her vestry dressing room, and she finally let me in, and finally let me talk her back to the altar to say our I do’s.

And we did, but the bad vibes hung there, I guess, contaminating everything, festering beneath our façade of happiness.

My family doesn’t like her family and ditto with her family’s feelings toward mine.

It seems that our making them both one family wasn’t working out. Isn’t this why old countries used to marry off their royal kids to their rival warring kingdom, in order to make blood peace? I must be the only one who loved history class. Of course, blood peaces resumed many a blood war.

We went to the reception, we had a peaceful meal and sweet toasts and teary eyed toasts and funny toasts, and we had our first dance, but the open bar’s prepaid liquor was fueling fires in those still burning with discontent. Did I mention countries at war? Yes. I did.

The police were called again....more on the brawl's aftermath

Free Short Story, Wedding Night & Honeymoon: No Touching by Neale Sourna

No Touching

by Neale Sourna

No touching. That's what we'd decided, before truly realizing, as we do know, how hard this would be.

We've lived together for two years and our wedding's in two days, and we haven't "touched," I mean REALLY TOUCHED in two months. A brief, pecking kiss here; a quick hand squeeze there, yes, but not more. Pretty much just like business associates or brother and sister.

So, no lingering embraces, no handsy petting, not even lengthy handholding because, with this promise to ourselves, all of that becomes unbearable at a point; all those handsy, lingering, touchy-feely things clearly lead a woman and a man far astray to break from the kind of celibate pledge we've made to each other, and ourselves, after two and a half years of close, physical intimacy.

But we'd decided, in full mutual, sober agreement, to refrain from "close, physical intimacy" these last long, frustrating months. Two entire months. Sixty-one days. One thousand, four hundred, sixty-four hours. Infinite minutes. An infinity of seconds.

Not that we haven't had intimacy, still...http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/no-touching.html [abstinence]

Outback Love, Part 2 by Neale Sourna_short story

Outback Love, Part 2

by Neale Sourna

Coober Pedy, South Australia; 1919

Green. I miss the color green. Green trees, both evergreen and deciduous, and green azalea bushes ready to spring bloom, dripping with rainwater or glistening with morning's kiss. There is no green or dew kisses here because in this dry, hard place, "like the lifeless moon, after Armageddon", we never had our honeymoon, Pete and I.

"I'm not him, I'm not Joe, Maddy, not the man who sent you those letters that brought you here, but … but, if you'll h-have me—?"

"Yes. Without question," I'd said, and he'd blushed horribly, nodded mutely, and we were betrothed.

We were married by a great talkative preacher on hostile and diligent mission to convert and subvert the kind aborigines to his God. Then, Pete and I spent an uncomfortable, unconsummated wedding night lying side by side, and then he'd risen early, but I'd finally convinced him to sit still for breakfast only to have him seem increasingly guilty about dawdling his day away with me.

So, a half day into our honeymoon week, he returned to mining the opal, and that lonely way was our way for too long.

"Are y'happy here, Maddy, with me?" I'd wanted to say a bold, unquestioning "yes" again, but my nod was not so doubtless.

He's a fine man, but this is a daunting new world—this post Great War, Australian outback, this barren place of castaways. Pete was clearly avoiding any marital intimacy with me; a fine start that. Shouldn't a man be happy and take relish in his new wife, especially if he truly loved?

Still your mind and heart, Maddy girl. Mama always said I should curb such harsh, unfeminine thoughts and keep all such masculine tones of disappointment or...http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/081125-outbacklove-02.html

Becca Gets Her Sea Legs, Part 3 by Neale Sourna

Atlantic Ocean, Ireland; 1680s

"It's not fair," Becca moaned between gulps, of drinking a watered wine concoction, and promptly vomited, again. Aidan wiped her face, and then she fell back into his bunk, and watched as his hammock, which, though pulled to one side, swayed with the rocking of his ship. Damnable pirate. This new world of his would not be still.

"Utterly not fair."

"Your new husband, who you jilted your wedding night, pretending to be sick, so you'd not have to accommodate him, as per your full wifely duties, and then dashing away to me and sea, I think he'd say it was your just desserts, skittish girline."

"I doubt he'd say 'skittish,' perhaps something starting with an 's' and 'l.' And don't say 'desser‑'." And she hastily draped herself over the edge, and nothing came. A wholly unattractive way to spend one's time with one's new lover.

"More?" He proffered the drink and she shook her disheveled head and groaned with pathetic intensity, as he....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/becca-03.html [short story chapter]

NEW FREE Neale Sourna Online Wedding Night and Romantic Fiction

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