"Well," I said gruffly, blushing, "I'm not sure that I came up with it, but I call it the Kissing Test."

"Everyone seems to think it came from you; you might as well take credit. It's rather elegant... cuts through self-deception, political correctness, through what people believe that they believe..."

"Basically," I said, chiming in and warming to my subject, "it shows whether a person really considers Sammy to be a woman. While they might like to look at her, while they may want to touch her, while they might even want to have... ah... intimate contact with her, the one thing that *really* shows whether they regard her as a woman is if they say *yes* when you ask, Would you kiss her?"
 

Intergalactic headbanging made easy...

Contrary to common opinion, not all zombies are flesh-hungry, thoughtless creatures. There are a few exceptions to this annoying stereotype.

Me.

My name is Ryla and I’m a zombie. And yes, I can talk. Sigh.

I slowly strolled by the dress shops, momentarily gazing into the windows and looking at the new styles from New York. I caught sight of my reflection in the window, blond hair askew and lightly floating in the gentle breeze. I straightened my light jacket and continued to walk down the sidewalk.

"How'd you like to wrap those long legs around me honey?" I glanced up, a man in a white tank top had settled in beside me. He was grinning like a hungry wolf. A soft breeze blew across my exposed legs and drifted up the cotton mini skirt I was wearing.

Darn muses and their insistance on writing.. now if only they could keep their musing on one story at a time.. sigh

"Catch this one," Mallory said, spinning the tape rapidly ahead.

"No," Susan insisted. "I don't want to hear any—"

Mallory interrupted. "Hold on there. These aren't just any old, ordinary, run-of-the-mill farts," she explained in a low, confidential tone. "You won't find these farts on the street. These are special."

Susan scoffed. "And what makes them so special?" she asked scornfully.

She gave me a suspicious look. "You're not going to enter that goofy pageant, are you?"

I blushed. "Um, sure. Why not?"

Susan huffed loudly. "Why not? In the first place, it's degrading. I can't believe the school even does such a thing, in this day and age. In the second place, you can't win. And in the third place, you are not that kind of girl."

Worst than the inconvenience and the noise, was knowing how easily they could expose me. If they started digging into my life, even just a little, they'd soon find out that only five months ago I was a boy named Mark. And they wouldn't just know it, they'd make it national news.

Vic and Chuck are back ~ With a Special Halloween adventure!

* REMEMBER - DRUGS ARE NOT COOL! DON'T DO DRUGS AND DON'T READ THIS STORY IF YOU'RE UNDER 18! THIS STORY FEATURES DRUG USE BUT DOES NOT PROMOTE IT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM! *

"Trick or treat!"

"Trick or what now?"

"Trick or... treat!"

"Ummmmm... ok, what's with the costumes?"

"It's Halloween...?"

"It's Hallo- what now?"

The following all started by accident.

“By accident?” I hear you say. “How can something like that be accidental?”

It’s simple actually.

It all stems from that old adage: “be careful what you wish for” and for Gary Jones, no truer words were e’er spake.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A Built-In What? Really?

"Help me," Vicki asked Dan'l. The big man shook off part of whatever effect had left him out of sync with reality. The most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world wanted his help and he would help her.

Elvis Shops at K-Mart!

Dan'l Broome did not get much done the day he found Vicki Starr sleeping in the pallet yard next to his shop. First there was getting acquainted and picking out splinters. Then there was finding something for her to wear. Then there was dealing with the fact that she wouldn't tell him where she lived.

"I don't remember," she said, her violet eyes large and innocent. "I don't know how I got here either or what happened to my clothes." She smiled up at him. "Must have been some party, huh?"

"Jane! Jane! How do you stop this crazy thing?"

Every super-heroine needs an origin story -- and Vicki has a doozy!

Vic Kemple loved him some sexy superheroines. He never expected to be one!

Half a pound

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Stick it in some old hose,
Pop them in the cups of my bra,
I'm a girl and nobody knows.

Wee Willie Winkie, face in a mess,
Staring in the mirror in his mother's nightdress,
Used too much makeup, feeling kind of down.
Wants to be a princess, but he looks like a clown

Melody Blossoms

A free sample from my new ebook!
Harriet and her friends are at that age when girls blossom into young ladies. Except for Clarence. Clarence still needs a lot of help to reach his potential. Only Harriet understands his secret — deep down, he’s a girl named Melody. Gradually, Harriet and the girls coax their new friend out of his shell. Can they help Melody to blossom?