Symphonic Seductions
By Paul Calhoun
With illustration by Turkranma

Dear reader: Up to the first break, it's Zoonatic and from there on it's all me. This is something of his I felt could be extended. It's some of my earliest work in furry fandom. About four years now, I think. Not really up to the same standard as the Unplanned Adventures, but in a similar vein and I figured why not? There are plenty of things in this that could be considered prototypes for later development in the UA, and it isn't half bad, although it could be improved. Then again, a year after writing anything I believe that.

Dreams and Truth

It should be raining, Robert thought. It seemed like whenever there was a funeral in the movies or on TV, it was raining. But for a early November afternoon, it was sunny and warm. He found it hard to grieve for his mother. In one way, she had been gone for a while, lost in Alzheimer’s.

He found it also ironic that she would be buried today, on November 11, Remembrance Day. She had been, after all, the daughter of a soldier, and a soldier’s wife. For some reason the old poem came into his mind.

Summary: Another crossdresser, this time more experienced, tries a new thing and gets into more trouble than he'd expected when his fursuit head gets stuck. Illustrations done by the same person as who did WVI, and so once again you can extend this story with money or illustrations.
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PDF here: http://www.deviantart.com/download/185202942/head_case_by_ch...

By Paul Calhoun

Dear reader: The events of the next story will show that this short (which was de-canoned even as I thought of it) could not occur before at least two years from the one previous to it. Much like Unexpected Good's epilogue, this is more of a vague possibility than anything else. For reference, the two following images which don't belong to me were the catalyst if not inspiration for this story:

Two Letters

by
Jonelle
Dear Jack,

I know you've always been there for me, to protect me and keep me safe from harm. I do appreciate it, I really do. It's just that I've had enough. I can't take it any more. It's way beyond time for me to have my own life. To seek the kind of happiness you've had so many years to find for yourself.

You've failed miserably, repeatedly.

It's long passed time for me to have a shot.

Sleep Teacher

One of My Teachers
By BillieBob

Ever get a crush on one of your teachers in school?
If you’re lucky, you only make a fool of yourself!
Another tale that’s a ‘little different’. Like me.

Intuition and Premonition
By BillieBob

Do you believe in either one? Would you even want to? A blessing or curse, or both!

In a shadow war waged by a top secret agency, an infiltration op succeeds — only to go horribly wrong once the mission is done. How can an agent keep his partner alive when the only future his friend can see is no future at all?

Home leave.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

The envelope was addressed to Steve Smith, The Cottage, Combe Farm, in familiar writing and the post mark said "BFPO 952." Inside was a photograph of an attractive girl dressed in Army desert combat uniform. She wore a regimental beret, camouflage shirt with corporal's stripes, trousers and army boots. The picture was taken at an angle so that the outline of her breasts was clearly visible. Her hair was tied back and she had just a hint of makeup. Very obviously female. There was a short note:

A delightfully silly romp through the life of an actress with the unlikely name of Geoffrey. Unsuitable for mature audience.

Christina loved John like a brother in life. Can she learn to let go of him in death before it's too late?

One of a pair alongside John's Story.

Where Is The Love

Chapter One: Runaway!

Simon was getting worried, his twelve year old mind churning; the couple that had fostered him had locked him up in this bedroom three days ago. They only let him out to do chores around the house and hardly fed him. He sat on the bed in the room and he listened for the footfalls on the landing outside, this he was beginning to dread as his foster father had beaten him yesterday for dropping a plate the bruises still smarted. There came a knock on the door as Alison, the Rights youngest daughter, voice drifted through the wood.

Like all inhabitants in the Land of Dalembrine, the Maker created Foulkes to serve a single purpose, to play his role in bringing harmony for all. But in crafting Foulkes, the Maker proved to own a sense of humour. How could a discordant note fit into the symphony of life?

A twist upon a familiar nursery rhyme.

Vampyre

*An Evanescence side story.

Chapter 1

I used to be human, I used to be a lot of things before the Sanguira came into my existence. I was a son, a good son…except I was the child of the devil.

***
“Alex!, Alex where the bloody hell are you boy?”
That’s my father and he’s pissed at me. I’m scared as hell because I’m dressed in Annabella’s things. Up in the attic. I hide like I always do but he finds me this time. I’m all shaved and such and washed with my mothers soaps in a basin up here.
He stares at me.