Introduction: This story is the third, the penultimate, in a series within a series. The overall series is the “Cynthia Chronicles”. This story is directly connected to “Simoné and the Second Time Around” and “Marti and the Doppelganger”. The latter left many unanswered questions. Some of those will be answered, some probably not. There are many references to previous stories in the series. If you are confused by some of them, just put it off to my senility. The Cynthia Chronicles takes place in a universe very similar to ours. Unfortunately, it might be too similar.

For any who read “Myrna and the Genetic Disaster”, this is the same story, only with the political rantings and scientific explanations removed. There may also have been a few edits and additions.

This is the ninth part of ten or maybe eleven. I had considered reorganizing the last few chapters of the story as there is quite a bit of skipping around and going back and forth in time. I decided the heck with it and left them as they were.

Ronnie and her mother discuss the past weekend, especially, how good it was for everyone. The raccoon family continues to learn about their new environment. Their neighbor is a bit upset with them. They’re innocent..

I knew they'd be around to check on me. I'd run afoul of the witch's council too often for them not to keep an eye on me. So when their investigator came sniffing around and spoke to me I was ready.

I pretended not to know her which got her curiosity aroused but I knew the first thing she'd notice was the absence of magic. When she asked in a roundabout way about my magic I had the perfect story ready.

"You know about magic? Finally someone that will believe me!"

Deirdre had inspired many to wonder if other gingers didn’t have souls either.

Today is going to be a “Girly day“ for me, my wife, Jacquie, is having one of her occasional lunches out with the girls, which gives me a chance to indulge in one of my hobbies. As long as I can remember I have I have had strong desires to dress in female clothes, and have whenever the opportunity arose, in secret, borrowed clothes from my mums wardrobe, or even from the occasional stopover guest. However this is all a close secret, I am so far in the closet that I am almost through its back wall.

CHAPTER 12
I reached out for the paper, and Ken simply folded it, placing it into the locker behind his seat, where our money was kept.

That thought stopped me dead. ‘Our’ money? Ken was talking, and I had to make some sort of noise to let him know I hadn’t heard.

‘Our’.