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.
Skyler finds himself in an awkward situation and, because the situation could lead
to a huge scholarship, all the women in his life seem to want to keep him in that situation.
As I have done in a previous story, there are links posted at the end of each chapter that
will bring you to a YouTube version of the music mentioned. There's only one link for this
chapter, but there will be more as the story progresses. Please feel free to leave comments! A QUICK NOTE: This was a long and somewhat challenging story for me, AND it
was written during the most busy, exhausting and frustrating six months of my life. I hope
it appeals to you. If it doesn't, that's cool, too, but regardless,
it was my link to sanity during a tough time.
A promise to tell Blaine the truth. A blackmailing teacher making her move.
A visit from friends from back east. Homework. A TV show to be made... just another
week in the life of an average fourteen year old girl. Bebe's got a lot on her plate!
The quiet hum of monitors filled David’s hospital room, the soft beeping marking the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His mother and Emma had just stepped out for coffee, leaving him alone in his still-unconscious state. The fluorescent lights above cast a pale glow over his motionless form.
The peace was shattered when one of the machines began to emit a shrill, rapid alarm. A nurse, passing by the door, rushed in to check the monitors. Her eyes widened as she read the rapidly climbing numbers on the screen.
Two years ago Stacy visited a newly discovered dimension, with his parents, on an adventurous summer vacation. He was astounded by how the other dimension's technology was decades ahead of his own! During his senior year he applied to Emerson University in the city he had visited. He was excited and hopeful of learning more about their technology as an exchange student, and hopefully bring it back to his own world. (Story set in the Diaper Dimension)
A florist is not a job for a young man, or so my father told me. It was just that I was always a delicate person. I still am.
There is something about flowers that touched me deep in my soul. This is something that is made by nature to look pretty, smell enchanting and taste sweet. What is there in all creation that exists purely for joy? Well, perhaps there is another thing – certain nerve endings. Did you know that flowers are the sex organ of a plant? It is all about sex in the end.
Sitting there and allowing Amy to move a brush towards his face was already a lot, and Chris had to resist the urge to flinch when the tool came into contact with his cheek. He had already resigned himself to going along with this; the last thing he needed was to give his cousin the satisfaction of enjoying his awkwardness and discomfort along the way. Even if they both knew that this was awkward and uncomfortable, and was going to continue to be as she smugly made him look more and more like a girl.
I wanted to write a new story based on A Whole New Me - Literally as I thought that while Lou had an somewhat hard time, it was cushioned by her wealth. So what would it mean if it happened again to someone else without that safety net?
————
I woke up in hospital and, well, I panicked as I realised something was very wrong. I Don’t remember much of it as they had to sedate me but I was told more at a later date and apologised to everyone involved.
CHAPTER 41
I was up early. Still slightly out of synch with local times, and also a little sore in the forearms. The routes with Vern had been fine, apart from the need to fiddle about for ages with those lunatic Aussie bolts. I could imagine how that must push local climbing grades: if you can climb E4 while gibboning like an idiot to place pro, then the silly grades must be that much easier.
I took my laptop down to the kitchen, sneaking past the sleeping beauties and brewing a cuppa as I searched for details about those granite cliffs near ‘Maggie River’. I found a site called ‘The Crag’, which gave decent photo topos as well as rather abbreviated route descriptions, but, well, beggars and choosers. Kettle boiled, tea poured, bowl of cereal before me, and Maryam walked in.
Any Carmichael grew up in a not particularly pleasant part of town, a run down estate on the outskirts of Nottingham where crime, or at least the presence of the perpetrators of crime, was part of everyday life. It was the sort of place where the police rarely visited, and when they did it was always in large groups to cope with the torrent of abuse that they would encounter. For those that lived there, crime was not a problem, it was a case of ‘don’t mess on your own doorstep’. However events led to the need ro give it all up and completely change his life,
Ellie called her family first, to let them know that we would pop in when we were in Norfolk. There was a signing session at a bookstore in Norwich, after which we had a day off. It was her mother that brought up the problem with it being written by two women, which allowed Ellie to tell her that she would send a picture of the new me to her phone. She did this when she had finished the call.
Also, as foolish as it sounds to say it, I felt very exposed out there, naked, in the desert, in the dark.
I'm not talking about being naked. I'm talking about wild animals.
I knew full well that there are no hyenas in the United States, but it didn't stop me from being scared of them.
The shuttle train was approaching Faen Shanta, and as we drew closer, my eyes widened in awe. This was the first time I had seen something like it. The tree was gigantic—far larger than I had ever imagined, even bigger than the history books made it seem. Its massive trunk seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, its ancient roots weaving through the land like the veins of the world itself. The tree's sheer size and majesty filled me with a sense of wonder and insignificance, immersing me in the enchantment of this magical world.
Mantra tries to juggle two problems at the same time. What she finds out is gut-wrenching, but she has an important job to do and can't afford to get emotionally involved with the local problems of an alternate world. Unfortunately, things have a way of going wrong for Mantra.
I made my way out to the garage. It smelled of polish and petrol. It was a change from the domestic smells and perfume I have got so used to. I wear perfume every day. Now I am so used to it I don’t even notice it. Luca did though.
“Ahh Tesoro, you have come at last.”
Luca was around 50 years old. He had a slight pot belly, and short greying hair. He had what could be described as a “Dad body”. He was wearing a vest and had just been cleaning the limousine.
“You wanted to see me, Luca. Can I get you anything?” I said hoping that was all he wanted.
Just close your eyes
And create yourself a better life
Let the wind blow through your hair
Let the music take you there
And make a better life, a better life
Vantier a Whateley Tale.....Ancient and Powerful Vantier awakens in a foreign world, struggling to find her place in it.
He is saved from the death of his race and planet....to start all over again....but can she survive?
A human high school and being a teenager? Will she remember what was? And grow in power?
This Chapter---dealing with life's issues and a hidden danger GROWS!!
dun dun daaaaa!!!!!!
Well its been 4 years since I posted a chapter....so I guess its well past time?
Speak Now
A Short Story from "Romance and Other Crimes Vol. 3"
By Maryanne Peters
It was hard not to like L’Roy with his easy strength, his ready grin and his smooth butternut complexion. L’Roy Shipney and I were on the same road gang in New Mexico, working out of the county jail with sixteen other inmates repairing a culvert that had been damaged in a flash flood when the whole business began.
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.
Scott had thought his jacket was unisex enough to suit
me, and he wasn’t completely wrong, but I wished he’d bought something
that went better with the skirt. And his blue stocking cap wasn’t very
flattering, but... I wasn’t trying to impress Dean or even Glenn.
The next day we joined up with Tessa's mum, dad and grandmother for breakfast at a local cafe. Whether or not Tessa had told them to be friendlier to me, I don't know, but the atmosphere was definitely less hostile than it had been at the party. I still wasn't comfortable in their presence, and doubted I ever would be again, but at least everything was now a bit more civilised.
Two years ago Stacy visited a newly discovered dimension, with his parents, on an adventurous summer vacation. He was astounded by how the other dimension's technology was decades ahead of his own! During his senior year he applied to Emerson University in the city he had visited. He was excited and hopeful of learning more about their technology as an exchange student, and hopefully bring it back to his own world. (Story set in the Diaper Dimension)
“It is really beautiful,” I said, looking at the small statuette in my hand. Made of glass, it didn’t resemble anything specific, but was definitely stylish.
We were striding leisurely on the street. The setting sun was illuminating the puffy clouds that took most of the sky, and occasional gusts of wind played with the Carla’s hair.
“Yes,” she nodded. “This crazy adventure came to a happy end…”
To repeat myself, this is a completely true story. I left out details that could be used to hurt me or others in this account.
Set FREE !
Chapter 1
Perhaps there will be more.
I had a long life and was thankfully disowned by my greedy unforgiving children. My mate of 38 years was now my X, and died also. My other relatives had all passed.
It was peaceful alone in a one-bedroom apartment on the 4th floor. Not having drank or smoked, I lived a modest life.
How could this be? She had been holding the lifeless bird statue when I petrified her and some of her life force was now in the bird. How much had been drained from her? The bird had had no life force for over a week.
I looked at the place where she and the bird were in contact and I could see some of the red inside her moving into the bird. I grasped the bird and was able to remove it from her hand. The bird's life lines were still very faint. At least now the essence was no longer flowing from Marie to the bird.
Of course, our extended trip couldn’t escape the media. One of the French President’s planes, carrying the EU Commission President and a team of diplomats was unlikely to fly under the radar. There were crowds at many of the airports when we landed, especially once we cleared the Indian Ocean.
The first 2015 publication of Doppler Press was Heather O'Malley's
Geoff Greenfelder's discovery should have changed his life by rocketing him up the ladder of academia . Instead, it changed his life in ways he never could have imagined. After partaking in a sacred ceremony by the Amazonian tribe he discovered, everything in his life changes, including his very own body. What should have been an occasion for joy becomes a trauma Geoff must work through. His only hope for returning his life back to normal is finding the answers that lie in unraveling the mysteries of the tribe before he can return to it.
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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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