When a young trans girl promises to herself that she'll come out to her friends for the new year, an angel appears before her, promising to help her. Unfortunately, it seems that her friends are transphobic. Thankfully, a new queer cafe is opening up, and may give her a chance to make friends.

Living the Novel
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Dave doesn’t have friends, he has acquaintances. He sees the same people in the same pub every day, always betting on the horses. And for all the friends he doesn’t have he does have secrets, he’s unemployed, he likes men, and... well... he’s been on female hormones for over two years.

With Cheltenham, the biggest jumps racing festival of the year coming up, a string of bad luck means Dave might miss out on the week of gambling. That is until Chelsea—the only female gambler in the bar—makes an offer; a simple, honest offer, and one from her heart. No, she doesn’t want Dave in a dress, she doesn’t know his secret. It’s something far more direct than that.

A once off, self contained short story.

That summer I met my first love. I fell head over heels in love with Philippa. She fell in love with me. As they say, We had fun, we had joy we had seasons in the sun. That really was a lovely summer. We spent every moment we could together. Our hearts thumped. We had picknicks together, we went riding together, we went to concerts together, we popped over to Paris and the Riviera together. And then we were just together. I think just being together with someone I loved was what mattered most to me.

My relationship with my parents was not strained at all. We were perfectly civil to each other whenever we met. That summer my father had custody of me. My friends, or rather acquaintances, called me Pinball since my parents regarded me as the trophy in their fight against each other. Whenever the parent in charge was splashed on the front pages of the tabloids due to some scandal, which happened with depressing regularity, the other swooped in to grab the prize, Why? apart from the win, I never could figure out.

Author's Note: My muse took me to a heavier place here, but it's a story of survival and, ultimately, hope.

One Last Hail Mary
By Marissa Lynn

Even with nobody sitting next to him, it was impossible for Mark Tyler to twist his body into a position to sleep.

Sam had played rugby ever since starting secondary school. They enjoyed it so much they decided to keep it up even after graduating and moving on to college. They figured it was a great way to keep in shape and also to support their local Sports Club which had come close to shutting down for a lack of finance. Thankfully grant aid was found from a charity that demanded that everything at the Club was inclusive. Nobody should be denied access to sport on the grounds of ethnicity, religion, sex, or social standing, they said.

Catching Up
By Marissa Lynn

"Come on Mitch, stop squirming."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Oh stop whining, Mitch. You can't be having that bad of a time. And remember it's for the views, right?" Cassie asked as she applied the eyeliner along his left lower lash line.

"Besides, it's what we do for our art and sometimes, we suffer for our art, right? It's for the Dynamic Four, after all," Todd said

Author’s note - After finishing the updated story of Laurence I was finding it very difficult to lay the story down. I knew that if I continued, then it would get dark and I knew that I couldn’t avoid that. As readers you may appreciate my dilemma or say it would have been better to leave it as it was?

This is written as a separate short story so readers can avoid the ending that appears here. I needed to write it, but you don’t need to read it although I hope some of you do.

This is a story about a trans snooker player.

As I bent over, lining my cue with the white ball, my mind was in turmoil. What should I do? The cue felt like an extension of my arm. It was a Peradon. I remember back to the hell my mother kicked up when my father brought it home. He showed me and we stared in awe at it. It was as if he had shown me Excaliber itself.

Isn’t Life Strange?
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I was on holiday with my husband Mike and his two boys by his first marriage, and we were visiting a brewery in Colorado. They served what looked like a great lunch, so we sat down for a meal, to be washed down with one of their craft beers. I have to confess that I still prefer beer to wine, even after all these years post transition.

I'd also like to thank Melanie in helping me get this posted!

As was usual, she was lonely, especially on this day, as it was Christmas Eve. She got up and went to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and instead of creamer, she poured a bit of eggnog in with the brew. She considered something stronger, but even though only she would know, she wasn’t yet of the legal drinking age, and it wasn’t like she had any alcohol on hand.

She put the nog back in her fridge, then returned to her recliner.

She lived in an apartment that wasn’t lavish by any means. She needed to save as much money as she could, so whatever was left each month after basic necessities was put into a savings account. Once it was large enough, it would fund her needed surgery.

As she sipped the coffee, she thought about the events that had brought her to the present. Her mother had played around a lot in high school and she kept it up as she went to college. She had been the stereotypical proud cheerleader, who felt no one but the football team was worth her time.

Usually.

It was colder than he had expected, the sleet steadily hardening into snow, but Ken had endured worse. There was a hedgerow running between two of the fields which he thought might work for the night, and part of it looked to be hazel, or at least something with similar leaves, which the shrub had clung to despite the nastiness of the late Autumn and Winter. It had all looked so simple when he was little, the Boy Scout books almost rhapsodising about hatchets and straight staffs as a ridge pole, but walking around with an axe these days would get him lifted by the plod in no time.

Author's note: Here it is, my first story here, originally started as a New Year's Contest entry, but as the story played out, I felt I'd be truncating it too much to get it to 5,000 words. Thanks for the encouragement and inspiration, getting me to move from reader to writer!

'Til You Make It
By Marissa Lynn

September 17
"Dammit! I can feel it right there, but, crap. Something's not right. I'm not right."

As the night entered the small hours, she decided she might as well open her e-reader and wait for dawn, which was why she found herself waking from the faint memory of a dream as ever-elusive sleep had finally drawn her under.

Her cell was buzzing away next to her pillow.

“Ummmff?”

“Tiff? You awake? It’s Tyler”

“Wasn’t, but am now. Whadyawant?”

It’s 2054. I’d been out with our lady’s group on a pseudo off road ride on a trail up a 3400 meter mountain when we encountered an old slide area that seemed smooth enough but strewn with potato sized rocks on a rideable incline. My front wheel power was on my right hand and my rear wheel power on my left. I had not fallen yet, and my riding suit would protect me from injury if I did. My helmet still had enough power to keep my blood Ox levels up, so I felt confident that I could stay with the group.

I’m not Scrooge, and I don’t get bent out of shape with other people enjoying it, but it doesn’t do anything for me, not any more. Many years ago, when my son was little, we used to do all those Christmassy things, trees and fairy lights and decorations. Presents under the tree on Christmas morning and a visit from Santa during the night. You do those things when you have a little kid.

Freddie is sick of being seen as weak and feminine, so he has decided that beginning in the New Year, he will completely change himself and become a true man! But when he runs into a pretty, air headed girl, she ends up dragging him into working (crossdressed) at her maid cafe!

There once was a man named Elysium who had a death wish some might say. He was always getting himself into dangerous situations, and only barely just getting away. His time was spent most days plotting a revenge fantasy for someone who had wronged him in his past. And he made plans to carry out his deed before New years of 2024. This would be his last chance. He lived in a dingy vague apartment in Oregon state, cold, and dark, brown, fuzzy feeling, and damp.

The flight was not my greatest delight.

Silly words, but I was decanted from the 777 into Perth airport feeling like absolute shit. Sod all the advice about jet lag, I NEEDED sleep. The baggage trolley was awful, only the back wheels steering.

“What is the purpose of your visit, Mister Ellison?”

Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story

-7-
The Road to Baton Rouge

Annie reconnects with her family and gets her true life.