A friendly place to read, write and discuss Transgender Fiction.
Home of 3000+ chapters of Easy as Falling off a Bike by Angharad and many other stories.
Life has some certainties, birth and death of course, but the rest is a mix of Minestrone and Spaghetti, some of which we have no direct influence over. We can however decide whether we want Parmesan or other seasoning, we can give Gnochi a try, doesn't mean we'll like it but at least we'll know. Gaby has reached just such a point in her life, she knows she likes Pizza, she's not averse to Spaghetti or Lasagne but is Gnochi for her? The Gnochi in this case is doing the singing with BlauHase on a more serious level, as a 'hobby' its fine but could this be a change of career? Well you don't find out without trying so that's just what our heroine is about to find out in this, the 27th book of the Gaby saga.
Against his better judgement, a man gives his wife a very feminine piece
of lingerie for their anniversary. She does not appreciate the gesture and makes
an offer that he takes her up on.
The next story I'm going to share with you was told to me by Junior Scoutmaster Emma Jeanette Pierce. I'm also going to confess I went a little overboard with the name of the story. I don't apologize for it at all though, mostly because it conjures up perfectly the vibe I want to capture with these stories.
The Ghostly Dancer at the Annual Cotillion Ball
Told By
Emma Jeanette Pierce
John was pissed that he died on the beach at Normandy.
It was June 6, 1944 and to say Private John Burton was unhappy would be an understatement. Even though he had heard General Eisenhower's speech on the radio, he really wanted to be elsewhere. Not that he wasn't a red-blooded American and not that he didn't grasp the importance of the mission. It's just that he was convinced there was a German bullet with his name on it. It was a feeling he just couldn't shake. All the trouble his parents went through to raise him, scolding him into good behavior, getting onto him to make good grades. And then all the money and effort Uncle Sam went through to prepare and train him for this exact moment, everything his life was moving towards would come to a wasted end on a beach in France he'd never heard of. He just knew it. And he was mightily annoyed about it.
Being annoyed couldn't describe how John felt when not even ten feet from the landing craft onto the sands of the beach before being cut down by German machine gun fire. Talk about being angry as he fell onto the sand...
And then even more angry when he woke up in another time and place as a naked teen girl...
"What is this?" said Vic, angrily. "What is causing it? I mean, it can't be coincidence!"
A large part of her anger was due to Michelle being among those taken. The doctor replied while Vic, realizing she was on the verge of losing control, took a series of slow, deep breaths.
QUICK NOTE: Shoutout to Uhuru N/Uru for commenting on the last chapter with a tip on how to fix this serial's prelude so it came first in the Organizer page. Thanks so much for helping me out.
***
After getting their blood drawn, Bailey and Rachel were both taken back to the padded room where Rachel had been held before. Circe locked them in the room before going back to start working on their blood samples.
"I can't believe they just did that," said Rachel.
"I know," said Bailey, "But they won't get what they need."
Keir sat on his horse, grateful for the green cloak that covered him. There'd been a nasty cold snap the day before, there wasn't any snow yet, but it would be coming soon.
“Well?” The furious woman across the table from me said. “I’m waiting.”
I stared at my mother, pain aching in my chest as I was torn between the elated feeling of seeing her again, and the sheer terror that her sternest glare always provoked from deep inside me. Unlike my father, Mom was slow to anger, but when she got mad, she really got mad.
I held up my hands, shaking my head back and forth. “I …”
Her finger came back up again, pointing right at my face.
Sammie's story an incident of magic and Fae...this is the final chapter in her introduction!
I am adding this character in to flesh out my stories with more characters I can control fully and not barrow too many of others laying around the Whateley school
Lets see how you all like it and PLEASE PLEASE comment or I don't know what to do next or if you even like this plot?
Kassidy leans back in the worn passenger seat inside the van. She looks over toward Jerry as he drives the van. She glances toward the back of the van and notices the rest of their band drunk or stoned out of their minds.
“Tonight was a total mess, Jerry.” Kassidy couldn’t believe how terrible the group sounded.
“I know, and I wish I had an explanation for what happened, but I don’t.” Jerry was pissed that the band did so badly tonight.
Ursula
examines Anmar's first prototype sunglasses. Eriana and Kalmenar
decide to join her at the mansion to explain 'factories'. The next
morning Ursula struggles with her desires, later, at the treaty
signing, she realizes that an important document is missing.
After I gave my little speech the party started in earnest. And let me tell you something, the scene unfolding before me looked like it had been lifted straight from the pages of The Great Gatsby. All the young men dressed smartly in their rented tuxedos danced upon the polished wooden floor of the country club with the belle's of Benton in their formal, sparkling gowns.
So the last chapter hasn't even cracked 200 reads at this time. Wow. I really jinxed things with that comment at the end, didn't I? Anyway, back to the story.
Happy New Year! Or should I say, Happy New Congress. I see the news and wonder at the avarice of some people who are supposed to be responsible adults. If the Rabid Right get what they are demanding, the following story might be even truer than my old brain had considered.
Happy Days!
Marianne
Fortunately, I have access to my new nightgown drawer again. I pick a
shorter flannel nightgown for tonight. After cleaning off my makeup, brushing my
teeth and admiring my new studs, I braid my hair and crawl into my parent's bed wondering what tomorrow’s
epiphany will be.
Vic was trying something she had read about once. Starting a little less than an hour before class, with only a worried Michelle present, she climbed nimbly to the top of one of the basketball goals. Vic paused for a moment, balanced easily on the balls of her bare feet, eyes closed, at one end of the backboard. She had learned from a trial that the rim wasn't stiff or strong enough for what she wanted. Largely because of the flexible attachment.
She let herself fall forward, then pushed off and dove headfirst towards the hardwood floor. Eyes still closed.
Living my life on the edge of what is and is not legal sort of happened without a plan or deliberate action on my part. It just happened and … well it took a car crash to make me take stock of my life.
"Jackson, Mississippi," Lanie repeated. She was standing on Conner's front porch, having gone straight to him after leaving Genetics Engineering. "That's where they took Rachel."
"How do you know?" Conner asked.
"I just went to Genetics Engineering and asked a few questions," Lanie answered. "It looks like they might've taken Rachel to their lab in Jackson, Mississippi."
Conner's eyebrows knit together. "You didn't find out why they took her, did you?" he asked.
Then she asked me what high
school I’d gone to before I dropped out, and apologetically asked me for
my deadname so she could ask them for my records, and made an appointment
for me to come back the next day for placement tests. I was in!
There's a party tonight, and Jamie wants to jump right in and get one of his 'girl nights' out of the way. But not if his friend Annie has anything to say about it.
The news stations that were showing and analyzing my battle with Michael seemed to be the more liberal stations. On the other hand, the more conservative news stations seemed to be only focused on the religious implications behind the battle. I do not understand how they cannot see the truth behind the whole situation, they have plenty of video evidence including my live stream of the battle but none talk about why I was fighting Michael.
When tragedy strikes, Opportunity knocks, and a new persona is born. A cross-country move away from everything Robert has known followed by a chance encounter trigger a different sort of existence. Can "Robin" adapt or will it all come tumbling down?
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Space 80
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USA
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Dedications:"For Emily"
For Stanman: "He was always there to offer a kind word and encouragement."
"In loving memory of
Robyn Lovelace
My life partner,
my life's love, my friend"
-- Karen J. Taylor
This site is dedicated to the
memory of lost friends
and particularly for
Jeanne Gerrib,
Rick Buhs, and
Bob Arnold.
-- Joyce Melton
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