This story is a standalone entry separate from the previous What It Takes to Survive story. Feel free to start here!

Bristol, England—1628

Mother had been quiet the last few days. I knew something was wrong; how could I not? My mother, who was always laughing, hadn't shown so much as the tiniest smile in days.

I hadn't ever seen her this distant for as long as I could remember.

Being Samantha Masters

an homage-sequel to Being Christina Chase

First Date First Date

Sammy had to make Finley wait downstairs while he put on his makeup, breathing very intentionally so he did not rush or mismatch his eyeliner.  That done, he tousled his hair until it looked vaguely correct, and added a few little white clips to keep his bangs under control.

The Discord notification pinged as David finished his math homework, the sound a welcome interruption from polynomial equations. He clicked over to find his gaming group already deep in discussion about the recent string of disappearances in Millridge.

"I'm telling you, something weird is going on," Tony's message declared. "Three people vanishing in two weeks? That's not normal."

Chapter 3 Rise to High Priest

I awoke the following morning, the remnants of last night's events lingering in my mind like fragments of a vivid dream. As I gazed into the vanity mirror perched atop my desk, reality struck me with undeniable clarity. The reflection, looking back, was altered, transformed by forces I could scarcely comprehend. There was no escaping the truth—I had changed in ways I'd never imagined possible.

Eriana finds that the Visund is overloaded and their departure from Bibek is cautious. Their passage is not helped when they are threatened by a Pakmal galley. In Faralan they visit Count Darkwin and receive an offer of assistance.

The Voyage of the Visund

A tale of Anmar by Penny Lane

98 - Return to Faralan

The nameplate on Ms. Thurnglad's door gleamed in the fluorescent hallway lights: "Student Guidance Counselor." Remi stood before it, his hand hovering over the handle as the morning bell rang in the distance. Through the frosted glass window, he could make out a vague shape moving within—probably Ms. Thurnglad arranging her ever-present collection of motivational posters and self-help books into their precise positions.

Preamble - I have now completely re-written all of the works I had worked with Sudowrite on. I no longer use it as a writing tool, only a story organizing tool. With my left hand healed I can now type again properly so I'll be able to write a lot easier. I am also returning to the online world but have permablocked where I got hated on for my prior writing of this. I will never author there ever again, and won't even lurk for their content. Their user base proved to be very toxic and the admins didn't care when authors were being harassed by readers. The reviewers were annoying but it was the DM's there that really got me.

©2025 SammyC

Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities between any persons, living or dead, and any places, actions, dialogue, things, etc., is purely coincidental. This story is being written to show kindness, love, acceptance, understanding and family values for transsexuals and their families. This story involves a young male-to-female (M2F) transsexual. The medical procedures in this story are what all M2F transsexuals go through, either at the time of the complete operation, or even before. There is no actual violence, or sex involved, drug abuse, or child abuse either. My hope in writing this story is that people will see that we are only trying to live a peaceful life, as normal as we can. There is a footnote at the end of this story. Thank you all for reading. ~Barbara Lynn Terry.