Caution: This story contains references to prostitution, murder, and suicide, but there are no graphic depictions of any of them..

I’m George Walda. Shortly after I turned 17, some strange things started happening to me. First it was this recurring dream that I had turned into a pile of goo.

I pulled the front door open with a jerk, surprising an imposing man with a completely bald head just as he was about to hit the door again. “If you say anything about knockers, you’re a dead man!” I growled.

I felt at a bit of a loss the next morning now that Sylvie was going back to her duties with the FBI. She had arranged for my stay to be extended by one more day and as one or other of the FBI or DOJ were picking up the bill. The only upside I could see was that I was under no pressure to check out by 11 am.

Elizabeth, David, and I are sitting in their home library. David is pacing around the back of the library concentrating, and Elizabeth is sitting across from me in a recliner. "Mother, why did you have to scare me so bad? Do you know how hard it was on us when you left us the last time? It destroyed our family, and I just got you back."

"My darling Elizabeth, I am so sorry that I put you through that again, but I couldn't think of any other way to get out of the situation without exposing magic." I lean forward to grab her hand and comfort her.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to 
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Two: Making Plans

The English language is full of idioms. One of the simpler ones is “Time flies when you're having fun.” I'm not sure how true that is, but it seemed I soon lost myself in my work. The simple act of bending down, picking up a weather worn trinket and tossing it into the trashcan before moving on to the next one was like a simple form of meditation to me.

I thought about what Sophia and Savannah had talked about last night, about their fathers and their long estrangement and how they were trying to be friends again now. Would it be like that between me and Nathan when I made contact again after I turned eighteen?

Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I think you do.
Who do you think you are?
Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I know you do.

“So... Petra, will you be keeping the new body?” Clarice asked, looking a tad envious.

Slumped in my seat, I was busy stuffing food into my face. Being killed and resurrected over twenty times had made me work up an appetite. The new proportions probably didn't help matters either. It felt like I was sitting on balloons, and I missed being able to see my feet.

Queen Dana of Highwinds the Elf Kingdom inside the Empire has a problem. One that she cannot fix personally. The problem is with a small minority of her population. A problem that has been brought to her attention by the half elf son of a problematic Duke. What is a Queen to do? She calls on help from a friend. The question now is does she realize what she is letting loose on her kingdom?

After a long discussion with General Ajani, Keir had been feeling quite happy with the day. It had been productive, a little terrifying at the thought of facing hundreds of thousands of demons, but there was reason to hope they'd survive and even push back the monsters in the coming year. And now his good mood was rapidly being ruined by stupidity, arrogance, and shortsightedness. 

CHAPTER 47
I settled into bed, Alys joining me there once she had done her teeth, and of course she picked up on my mood.

“What’s up?”

“I looked up Lee’s Dad”

“Oh. A bad one, then”

“Yes. Not now, all right?”

Detective Colton O'Hara has tracked a suspected Fashion Witch to a local strip club.
As he closes in, Colton spots the perfect opportunity to take her down. By any means possible.
But maybe everything fits too neatly together and Colton finds out why one should never underestimate a Fashion Witch.

By

Gwen Brown

This Short Story has been laying in one of my SSDs, neglected and unfinished for years. It seems that my protagonist is deeply confused about their gender. That’s not the half of it. What can we do to fix that? This is a story of secrets, deception, abuse, and war.

I checked into the hotel in town for a week, I felt it made sense to keep anyone I meet with away from home. When I signed up to the hook up app I got a lot of attention, even though I blurred me face and it turns out those naked photos in the changing room were useful, which all made it easier to pick guys based purely on their looks and then availability. I only had a small bag with me and the first guy was turning up on his way home from work and only had two hours.

After a couple of weeks, I have finally gotten into the grove of things between teaching and council. They still haven't found any replacements yet which is getting on my nerves but I'll survive. Today, I have decided to sit in on an Earth magic class taught by my dear friend Mr. Karrington. This guy has still not lightened up on me.

As the year draws to a close, I would like to wish you all a happy and safe Festive Season. I thank all the wonderful writers on this site who have raised my spirits during the year. I hope that 2023 will be better for everyone. My writing had hit a block due to a book project and other things this year. I hope to get back writing in 2023. Before that, though, here is a little story which has a tenuous link to the Christmas story.

Marianne Gregory

Chapter 1

This story takes place a few years after Hatter’s babysitter.

“Mom, do you know where I left my cell phone?’ Bree was looking all over her bedroom for her cell phone.

Aylin walks into her oldest daughter’s bedroom with her cell phone in her hand. She stands in the doorway “you left it in the bathroom again, sweetie.”

I have been asked to finish this story on several sites. This story contains sex and violence

My life continued to get worse. Paul was sent away and I never had him to comfort me. I had no idea when he was coming back. I asked Frankie where he was. All I got was.

"Why are you sweet on him you little slut? Just fucking remember, your my wife now, not his."

The next week at work was a bit of a come down really, everything just felt so drab and I think Anita knew I was feeling a bit down when he had our lunch time coffee. Finally she asked me to open up. I told her, “Everything just feels so different and strange now.