He kissed me on the forehead, as I looked up at his face. “I know we’re not supposed to have a baby, but I like the possibility.”

I smiled and kissed him on the lips. Then I told him, “Me too.”

I put my head back on his chest. Soon, I felt myself drifting off.

That night, I dreamed of having not one baby, but twins. A boy and a girl. I was ecstatic, as was John. We made Marc and Carla their grandparents.

A girl can dream, right?

Cobra’s Moll
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I came home from work to see the dress hanging on the back of a door.
'Wow that looks the business, real vintage I take it?'
Pam said nothing, I fingered the edge of the dress, 'it feels like real silk, you will look great in it.' I said confidently.
'Do you know nothing, look at the size of that waist, it is impossible.'
'Are you sure?'
'Dead sure, they even sent me an authentic corset to go with it!!'
'Still it will look great.'
'Which part of this are you missing buster, I am not being trussed up and paraded for no one.'

I stared at the head of my best friend. I don’t know how long it was, but I heard a man crying. I looked toward the body, and there was Marc. He had somehow collapsed on the floor, and his head was on her back. I had not started crying yet, but that scene broke me. Those two had loved each other so much. I felt a weight move from my lap, and saw that my husband had moved Kari’s head, and respectfully placed it on the floor. He took me in his arms and kissed me ever so gently, then he moved to Kari’s body and cut the familiar piece of her leg out and left the room carrying it. A few minutes later, he was back and took me in his arms and let me weep. I wanted so much to hold Marc, but he was unbonded. To do so would kill both John and me. John did something I’d never seen him do. He gently picked up Marc and hugged him. Marc was still weeping over the loss of his wife. We started to ease him to his apartment, when the strangest thing happened. We received an incoming communication!

“John and I aren’t,” I argued, then I looked at John. “I’m sorry, Dear.”

“You’re right,” he said, smiling.

“No she isn’t. You three are needed as well. People look up to you and derive strength from your determination. I’m a glorified mechanic, but you three and Roman are all leaders. Don’t sell yourselves short.”

We were standing in the upstairs circle, and as we talked, I noticed that several people were making their way out of their homes, many holding hands.

“Looks like it’s working,” I told Marc.

John slapped Marc on the back. “Good job, my friend,” he told him.

“I’m glad. We really didn’t need the fear again.”

The next morning, he entered the courtroom and asked the jury their findings. He hardly had to ask. The man was guilty.

For the first time in many years, Fred felt that his conscience was clear. Without a moment’s hesitation, he sentenced the man to the punishment Paul had said the night before.

Freeman had accepted that he was a judge to this murderer, and a judge to his brother. He didn’t like the job, but as the president, it was part of his job description. He was determined to change that, but until it was, he would do the job to the best of his ability.

Morning seemed so far away, and I wasn’t sure what it would hold. Okay, I knew, but how would we all deal with Marc and Kari not being there for two years? I just couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of it.

As I continued looking out at the night, I whispered to my best friend, Kari, "Just remember that Rose loves you." Then I started to cry again.

Virtually Feminine - Part 8 - Forced out


Andy's meeting with Julie takes an unexpected direction.

“Odd, though. You don’t look like you have a transformation spell on you. Or any kind of spell, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a transformation, but I think I’d recognize it. Must be some kind I’m not familiar with.”

It only started with me sitting waiting, all ready to go out and Fay looking great as she fastened her ear rings on. An idle comment can have major consequences. I only said 'your dress looks great, those underskirts that make the skirt fill out are back in fashion, they always looked good in those old films.'
Fay smiled at me, 'yes it's new, I bought it last week, glad you like it.'
And then the comment that changed everything 'what does it feel like to wear? I mean the skirt is so full and the underskirts must feel different against your legs.'

“No, but then he’s an artist, and they’re all a little strange. His work is beautiful, but I don’t understand how he designs it.”

The old man left, and Freeman stood, walking up to his friend. “Is that really necessary?” he asked.

“Fred, you know Willem won’t give up that information easily. You told me once that one of the first uses for nanites was to stop shock in an injured person. Anything we do to get information will have to be extreme. You know this.”

“Yes, I do, but it seems that we are stooping to his level.”

“Do you want me to stop,” Paul asked.

Fredrik looked at him for a long time as he considered. Finally, he shook his head in the negative. He didn’t like it in the least, but It had to be done.

The moonlight from the window was falling directly on the gateway in the mural. But he couldn’t see the road and horse and buggy and the distant hills. Instead, he saw — a chair. A high-backed wooden chair, with red velvet cushions on the back and seat and arms, and to the left of that, part of what looked like a sofa or armchair.

He was reluctant to take the power of the government into his own hands, as he wanted to distance himself from his brother. He tried to say no, but the people wouldn’t hear of it. He was their choice, and that was that. Eventually, he accepted the position. For a time. He told the people that there must be a set term. The government made that term be a millennium, followed by a possible second term, but that was the limit allowed. No way was someone going to be president for over ten thousand years!

Fredrik Wallace became the first president of the new Earth Republic. He was Willem’s brother, but they looked nothing alike. Their father had divorced and remarried in the time between their births. Also, while Willem’s mother had appeared generally Scandanavian, Fredrik’s had been African. Thus, the people did not consider the brothers to be any bit the same.

Fredrik wanted there to be even more of a separation, so before he took office, he had his name changed. He kept his first name, but his last name came to signify the people of the new republic. Freeman.

Keira De Leitz, a Witcher of the Kestrel School woke to the screams of a damsel in distress.

Willem Wallace sat, looking over his domain. Not that he could see much, but he ‘owned’ the earth. When he came to power, or rather arranged his own rise to power, he wasn’t sure where he wanted his base of operations to be. London, Paris, Jakarta… He didn’t know. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted the people to be compliant; willing to be led by someone with his special qualifications. To that end, he had a palace built in Death Valley of southern California, in the United States. He had considered the Sahara Desert, but he didn’t want his domain to be full of sand. Granted, he could program some nanites to make people willing slaves who continually cleaned his palace. By the time he was done, they would love being his personal slaves, but there would still be the sand. Going outside would continually be dirty with sand everywhere.

A few weeks later, John and I met again where I first told him that I loved him. We were not sure what to do now. Do we give in, risking an eventual long term being miserable, or do we remain as we were, risking life and limb?

I know what I wanted to do, and I’m sure John did as well. The bond was getting deeper and deeper. So much so, that I sometimes thought I could feel his emotions when we were in our own rooms.

I was having a hard time sleeping too. He had told me of the same problems. It was such that when I fell asleep, I was jerked back awake almost immediately. I was now getting very little sleep at all, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep going like this. I don’t know how, but I knew if we had sex, I would no longer have this problem.

I told John of it, and waited. I had no idea what he would do, but I didn’t expect his response. He leaned over and kissed me.

---

I know the nanites beheading their host is strange, but then again, my muse appears to have an much odder imagination than I have.

Hilarity ensues when a smart aleck on the run finds himself hiding behind a petticoat and a feather duster in order to elude the gangster who wants him dead. (Or maybe just wants him, period!) A fun and lighthearted comedy of errors filled with elaborate deceptions, mistaken identities, and a guy stuffing his boobs into a French maid's costume! What's not to like?

The Option
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I did not recognise the name when I was told of my visitor. Although it had been a few years I recognized her as one the victims of the Pickton Prowler, a mass rapist who I had been instrumental in catching. After an exchange of greetings I sat to hear what she had to say.

“I was sorry to hear about your conviction”, she said. “There are many of us who truly appreciate what you did for us. We want to help. In particular Annie Haldane and the Mitchell Sisters want to help.”

“You don’t have to do this, John. I’ll take my chances,” I gently told him.

He shook his head.

Could I do this, not having any idea of the risks for either Randy or John? What if there was some change we hadn’t seen yet? God only knew what Caesar had arranged. I gave voice to these fears, and it didn’t change Randy’s resolve at all.

“I’m aware of the risks,” he said, "but we have to know what will happen now.”

John nodded as well. I knew there was no way I was going to dissuade him. I had seen this determination too much over the years but what if he changed too? I took a deep breath and touched Randy’s hand.

I watched, fascinated as Randy seemed to melt and reform. I knew it must have been similar with me, all those months ago. When it was done, I looked at John. I had been so interested in what was happening with Randy, that I hadn’t even glanced at this man for whom I was obviously developing feelings.

A Change In Lifestyle – Final Chapter 14

By Julie D Cole

Patrick apologised that he was the substitute but promised Tracey would be back soon to give her approval and make any final recommendations since it was her salon now. She had taken out a loan and with some private financial support from a friend she had bought out the owner. Jobs were secure because the salon had a good reputation and he was now the senior stylist.