The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn It looks as if my day with the boys is changing. I hope that they don’t mind. I better let them know that they can bring dates/wives with them.

Friday Dec 30, Day 5

I will not be posting over the New Year's weekend. The story will resume Monday the 2nd.

Part Six

The trip from airport to hotel was... interesting. Some structures - including the actual pavement of most side streets - had obviously not been completed, and nearly all of the construction showed serious signs of deterioration. Michelle found herself appreciative of the air conditioning in the car. It removed both much of the heat and most of the smell of decay.

"Reminds me of some sections of Detroit," said Michelle, quietly. "Though with less graffiti."

"You're going to do what," everyone asked.

Yes, my mind was made up I am going to get out into the world and live, I need to stop hiding who I am from the world. I feel a strength in my body that I never really felt before. 'Thank you, mother, for giving me strength,' I offer up a silent prayer.

I took a deep breath as I peered toward the full floor length mirror that was hung on the other side of the small changing room. The reflection that greeted me was totally alien to me. The reflection showed a girl, who appeared to be around sixteen. She had long, flowing brunette hair that reached down to her shoulders. A modest chest that was just starting to fill out. Her hips were just starting to come in. This girl also wore a strapless coral pink ball gown that reached all the way to the ground.

A Christmas tale of magic, hope, and family. Be careful of what you wish for under a December’s night sky under the Northern Lights. You might get it.

Part Five

At the Detroit Metro Airport the next day there was still one surprise for Michelle, though it was a minor one.

"'Victoria'?" said Michelle, looking over Vic's shoulder as her wife checked their luggage. "Oh, right; you changed it when we got married. I'm so used to everyone just calling you 'Vic' I forgot."

"Yielding as gracefully as I can to the inevitable," said Vic, a bit pompously.

The thing I remember most is that I didn't cry. It's funny how the mind works like that. I don't remember the words my sisters said to me, or what they were wearing, or even if they were crying- all I remember is that I didn't cry.

And that I'd just been told the most devastating news a 13-year-old boy could hear: that his parents were both dead.

The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn I wonder again if my parents aren’t truly communicating with me from the grave. I go to bed with more questions than answers.

Tuesday Dec 27, Day 2

Leaving magic class, I was grateful that none of my classmates followed me to subterfuge. Having to face anyone who'd seen me naked so soon after it happened, would have been unbearable. There was one teeny tiny problem however, I had to walk the hallways by myself, and who knew what Micheal or his friend Victor would do.

Part Four

The old bakery turned superhero lair was well-lit and well-ventilated these days. However, there were times when this pleasant environment did not suit the psychological atmosphere of the inhabitants. This was definitely the case when Blue Impact left her private corner, under the stairs, and came into the main part of the largest room of the structure. The other two members of Tricorne were sitting in the entertainment area, not watching TV.

Sara and I made our way out to the center of the school garden. I found a good place for us to sit and try and commune with the Goddess. "Are you sure you want me here while you do this?" Sara asked me extremely nervously.

"Sara, I don't want you alone with that crazed boy after you."
I say with the utmost seriousness and love. I am not going to let anything happen to her, so I will stay by her side till this whole incident is resolved.

This is another one I started last year then lost direction. When I picked it up a couple of days ago, the way ahead opened up quite quickly and this is the result.

Please visit my Amazon store. The UK author page is here
and the Amazon US author page is here
Or just search for Maeryn Lamonte on Amazon

CHAPTER 49
It was indeed a learning process, which sounds redundant when talking about being a student, but there are far more things involved in learning than tick-box exams for tightly-defined subjects. It wasn’t just Tref’s porridge milk; both he and Lee needed a little housebreaking, initially in the concept of washing up and then the revelation that homes didn’t come with such things as a Magic Toilet Roll Replenishment Fairy. I will not mention toilet seats.

Part Three

A small hatch opened in the large, heavy door. Someone barely seen peered out.

"Are you one of Chuck's Children?" asked the low, gravelly voice.

"Rock and roll never forgets," proclaimed Vic, boldly.

"Enter," said the voice, as the door slowly opened with an ominous creak.

I could apologise for this. It reads a little bit like I’m channelling a grumpy old Brit who feels that the wrong side won in 1783 but, truth be told, as with most wars, I think the wrong side would have won regardless of who surrendered first.

I should say I’ve never been within a hundred miles of route sixty six and all the descriptions come courtesy of my mate Google, so you can blame any inaccuracies on him. I hope you enjoy.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Six: A Serious Conversation

In a world without women, the trans woman is Queen. Taken from the old saying "in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."

No one knew who started it, but the Americans accused the Chinese and the Russians. Both of those countries accused each other. The Gynax virus had effectively wiped out 98% of women.

It was thought that it came from a mutated virus that was meant to mimic the beneficial effects of female hormones on the immune system. During the covid outbreak, more women recovered than men, and fewer were hospitalized.

Orpheus Ascending
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2000

Author’s Note: Except for the TG element near the end, this is a straightforward retelling of the Greek myth.

* * * * *

Now would I tell the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, a sad tale of death and longing and of a fate most strange and yet most fitting.

“Wake up! It’s Christmas morning! You just missed Santa Claus!” Mrs. Ramsey called out from the hallway.