Mother Love
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I could never hate my son. How could a mother hate her own child? I remember the first moment that he was laid upon my chest – purple pink and wet from my womb – so small and fragile. How could he grow up to be just like his father?

The Pageant Trap
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

You can probably guess how it began. It’s in the title. It was a beauty pageant, more than one in fact, but the first one had to be a “Womanless” Beauty Pageant.

My mother had been a beauty queen. She married my father who was an athlete and a pro ballplayer when they met. To his great satisfaction he had three sons. I was the youngest. We were all brought up to play sport as our father had. None of us had the slightest interest in domestic things. We wanted nothing more than to be like our dad.

Miracles
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

My uncle was a religious man. When I say religious, I mean that he claimed to be a Christian. He claimed to live his life by the principles preached by Christ and his church. He claimed to be good.

When I say my uncle, I mean that he was the husband of my aunt – my mother’s much younger sister. That meant that he was not my uncle by blood nor was he more than about 10 years older than me.

Cuckoo
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I should explain right at the beginning why Daddy did the things that he did to me. You see, Daddy is not my real father. That is the whole problem, and the reason why things fell apart. He told me that he did not want to believe that I was not his, so he ignored the fact that I did not look anything like my two older brothers. He loved me, and now he loves me more.

Mother Daughter Bonding
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

"I don't know about this," I said. “It’s like Stan and Kevin might have the wrong idea about us. Just because we like dressing up as women now and again does not mean we are gay, or anything like that. I'm straight, just like you Dad.”

"Sure," my dad replied, but did I sense a little uncertainty? "It’s just a fantasy thing. We have to explain that to them. It’s a release mechanism. I used to do it before I was married, and well, since your mother died, I just slipped back into old habits.”

Work It

A Short Story

By Maryanne Peters 

Married Quarters
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I am slightly embarrassed that I did not pick her sooner, having worked with transwomen before. I am not even sure what tipped me off, but it must have been enough to give me confidence to say: “You’re trans aren’t you?” She looked as if I had pulled her whole world down around her.

The Costume Draw
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Because of the images, and my inability to format properly, this is best told in pdf format...

Homebreaker
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I used to say that I could wrap Daddy around my little finger. I suppose that is what most daughters say. He basically gave me everything I asked for, but really it was just because he could afford it. Some things he would never let me have. A sex life seemed like one of those.

Rumspringa
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Ours had always been a very religious household. I guess Mom was really the key to that. Dad always said the strength of faith comes from the women. But he was the elder in our church, and he seemed fully committed.

Robber
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

What can I say? I am a criminal. It is almost as if I have never had a choice. I just like to get things the easy way. Sure, there are consequences, but the trick is to not be caught.

Clothes
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

What woman feels comfortable about her boyfriend staring at other women? It is not just annoying, it is demoralizing. OK, so I might not be the best-looking woman, but I expect his eyes to be on me.

Muse
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“You do believe that my work is art, don’t you,” said Claude.

“Of course, I do,” Blythe said. “And I only want to play a role in helping you to be that artist.”

And that, is the title and essence of this story.

A Special Kind of Revenge
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The Dark Lady
A Short Story
Based on a literary mystery
By Maryanne Peters

That is what Mr Shakespeare called me – “the Dark Lady”. The name is right enough. My mother was mulatto. She was attractive enough to earn the affection of the man what owned her. I was born by that joinder. To my good fortune my blood father had good conscience enough to provide a little for my mother, and by her graces when I enjoyed them, myself.

Summer Times
A Novelette in a Dickensian Style
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter One

“I have a proposal for you, Mr. Summers,” she said. She appeared to me to be a fine woman, of imperious bearing and with an expensive frock – totally out of place in the gatehouse where we first met that day.

Her Roommate
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

He was really no threat to our relationship. I suppose it says something about my insecurity that I thought he might be. I have heard it said that there are reachers and settlers in every relationship. A guy like me reaches high, and a girl like Miranda is willing to drop a rung or two to go out with me. That’s how I felt anyway.

The Huntress
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Maid of Orleans
A Short Story based on Fact
By Maryanne Peters

House Spouse
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I worked alongside Matt Linaker for three years. I had no idea that he was anything other than a normal guy. I knew that he was married, so the fact that he had a slightly effeminate appearance I simply put down to “metrosexuality”.

Summer Intern
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Who could believe such an asshole could become my closest friend? I put it down to the power of womanhood. When it comes down to it, we are the superior sex. Our chemistry can dominate and drown out the worst things about men.

The Governess
A Short Story based on American History
By Maryanne Peters

It was in the year 1703, 20 years ago, that I first came to work for Edward Hyde, His Lordship Lord Cornbury, then His High Mightiness the Governor of the Colony of New Amsterdam, now the state of New York in the Americas. Now I am Lord Cornbury, soon to die, while he who once was His Lordship, leads the life he always wanted on those distant shores.

A Friend when Needed
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Tad looked suddenly very serious. The game was long over and the last two pieces of pizza had gone cold. Beer had been drunk: enough to lower the inhibitions but not enough to drop them both into a stupor. He looked at Jason, squarely in the eyes.

“I can trust you, man,” he said, “I know I can. We’ve been true pals for so long that I feel I can tell you anything. I can, can’t I?”