Author's Note: This is a sequel to my Non-TG Novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery by Charles Schiman.
This is also a non-tg novel. However, I am a male writing the novel first-person as a female. And I created Kelly as the female person I thought I could have become--my alter ego, if you will--had I been born a girl.

The first novel, Missing Without A Trace: A Kelly Mitchell Mystery, is available for purchase online as a Nook Book at the Barnes and Noble Nook Store.

Some may wonder about the title.

I know it seems silly be to me it means a lot.

For you see my father's heart gave up on Thursday. One day after June 12 aka fathers day. I had wished him such not too many days before.

Most people concentrate on a person just before they died. Ie the last day they saw them.

Am I greiving, yes very much so.

Still to me my father was a hero to many and here is a tale of what I know of him.

My father was born in 1946 here in Winnipeg to my grandparents Alma and Charles. One of eight children. Three girls five boys.

Part Four

Time on My Hands
Chapter 23: 239 CE: The Nerva of It!

Again with his speed and agility Raben quickly outdistanced the troops. By dawn he was alone about a mile from the northern tree line. Creeping to the top of a denuded hill he searched for signs of pursuit. Hundreds of soldiers were spread out across the devastated landscape clearly searching for him. Mounted troops waited where the roads entered the trees looking for him. It was clear they were not about to give up and he was effectively cut off from where he could easily slip away. It seemed nearly the entire garrison had been deployed.

For several minutes he tried to decide what to do. If he continued towards the forest he’d be spotted and swarmed. The mounted troops could cut his escape route until the foot troops reached him. With his battle skills it would be a bloodbath before they took him down. While he knew he’d resurrect, the pain and discomfort of dying was not something he relished. In addition, he knew the bloodied troops would take delight in slicing up his body and putting it on display. If he resurrected while being displayed... the thought was simply untenable.

Part Three

Alexa B-Side: #28 – Katie & Danny

To put it bluntly, I did not enjoy even a moment of the slightly more than three hour trip home, all I wanted to do was scream.

The problem was that we kept hitting crosswinds, and every time we did, the helicopter would rock a bit, causing me to shift in the seat. That caused a certain very tender part of my anatomy to rub against the surface of the seat through my jeans and underwear.

Let's just say that, by the time we landed at their home base near our camps, I was in a fair bit of pain. No, make that a lot of pain.

I arrived a few minutes late for work to find the squad room a scene of what can only be described as organised chaos. From the looks on everyone’s faces we’d picked up a new case. I headed for my desk and after slipping off my coat I sat down, started to get my bearings and waited in vain for anyone to remark ‘oh you are back then?’ or some such greeting.

I was just returning from three weeks holiday and I was already feeling slightly miffed that none of my colleagues had even noticed that I’d returned to work.

The alarm began to blare out, and the ship’s computer spoke two of the scariest words known to humankind: “Emergency: Code White”.

It was to be my first date. It was a blind date, or so I was told. I know I know, sucker, big L... I've heard it before, even said it a few times to my friends.

Friends. I'm supposed to be a man, or so my dad used to tell me before all those drinks caught up with him. Don't get me wrong he was never drunk at home. But the old man was a professional bartender and always took a cab home. One he didn't have a drivers license anymore, two it was just easier and cheaper for him to pay ten or so for a ride home at three am. That and I think the owner paid for it.

Masks XX: The Mystery of the Mechanical Master

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part One

The video conference call was unusual in more aspects than the fact that all three participants were wearing costumes with masks. The members of Tricorne were planning yet another Spring Break together. However, this time the youngest member was proposing something different from previous teamups.

First I thank Monika for all her efforts at editing. I asked for her help with the French translations and she dug into the story cleaning up a ton of errors including the French. Faeries and Such was posted several weeks earlier. There have been minor revisions to the first part. Nothing which will take away from the second part if one has already read the first and wishes to skip it.
For the past three weeks I either had my head down in the innards of a JD while questioning my sanity or eating dust and dirt when it's running. I lost three weeks getting the land ready for the next planting, Please, I love all of you, but don't expect me to return the volley if you comment.
Life is a gift. Treasure it until it's time to return it.

Chapter 39

We jumped into the limo and drove to my house. I was feeling nervous and a bit scared that mum was going to muck this up for me. On the other hand, Eve had this grin on her face, ready for a confrontation and looking forward to it. I think she was trying to keep me from freaking out by keeping a conversation going. We talked about music generally, favourite songs and artists.

This little song parody is about the feeling I had when I recently did a makeover photo shoot, and saw myself in the mirror for the first time, truly seeing me.

Who will buy this wonderful feeling?
Such an image I never have seen
Who will tie it up with a ribbon?
And put it in a box for me

Chapter 38 Chelle's POV

In the middle of the night I woke up, not quite sure what had awoken me. Then I felt Soph breathing fast, almost hyperventilating and occasionally twitching. I started stroking her and telling her that she was safe, that I was here to look after her and protect her and that her mum was nearby and wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

Francis, now Frances, still doesn't think she's a mermaid, but it seems that the sailors do!

Story is free to be read on the BigCloset Patreon Page

If you are a Veteran of recent Middle Eastern Military action, this might be mildly triggering, but I doubt it. This story has Muslim, Middle Eastern culture in it, but it is not about Islam. Lots of Middle Eastern folk are Christian, Yazidi or not religious at all. This is about an American War Veteran, and a family of Middle Eastern descent. I am hoping that it is romantic and somewhat funny. It is set in the future, near the middle of the 21st century, and might be mildly prophetic. Sometimes the most fun and the greatest reward comes from the oddest places. Enjoy.