Special Agent Mom
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter 1

Geraldine
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

She was a 1963 Cadillac Streetside, Model 7D, and I called her “Geraldine”. I knew from the moment that pulled away the rotting cover from her in that barn in rural Ohio and placed my hand upon her hood, that she had a soul. I could feel it. It was as if I could even hear her voice calling to me. I had to buy her. I had to bring her back.

Surprise, I'm alive. Someone has given me a quick kick, and I realized I hadn't posted much of anything here in years... again. I'll try once again to correct that problem. For now, please enjoy this one.

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

Trail Drive
A Short Story

It was getting dark. The sun had already dropped below the horizon but on the plains the twilight lasts a little longer, so the stranger, drawn by the light of a fresh fire, could easily steer a horse through the low scrub.

The cattle were well settled in a basin where there was a small watercourse and some green grass alongside as well as tender tips on some of the brush. They would settle well and could be easily watched from just above the campsite where the water flowed out.

Chapter 12 — “Trail of Sparks.”

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

"I used to be 5'11"," I complained.

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

We saw the last of them off at around ten, several of Ish’s friends insisting on staying a little longer than the others to help clear up the debris. LC was still bouncing. Our video guests, with lives of their own, had logged off, but I was guessing that Ish and Clara would be having a far more private conversation a little later. LC had run out of steam an hour earlier, but had insisted on staying up with ‘new friends’ despite the fact that she was falling asleep. It was Maz who carried her to her bed, while I hung around to shoulder the burden of making gentle fun of my son.

Once the public furore and extended media frenzy over Professor Fox being charged with some of the crimes had died down, both members of the Fox family were brought up before magistrates once again.

This time, the full gamut of charges, including child trafficking, paedophilia and child imprisonment, were laid down. As before, both pleaded not guilty through their legal representatives.

Jeannie Dreams
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was as if I flew to the edge of space, and found heaven from there. It sounds as corny as the old TV show, but it turned out to be true, in a very strange way.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror and adjusted my necklace so it hung in the centre of my chest. I smoothed my hands across my light blue tee and adjusted the high sleeves so it sat straight. Lauren had said this colour matched my eyes. Maybe that was why she’d bought it for me.

Chapter 60: Truths at the Table

The shift from the backyard to the house felt surreal. The evening air still clung to their skin, carrying the faint scent of smoke and grass as they left the chaos of the yard behind. Every step through the threshold felt like crossing a border between worlds—outside, the rawness of magic and fear; inside, the muted hush of ordinary life, untouched, waiting for them.

Track Ban
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

If you really know your horses, on track betting is the way to win. People who treat horseracing as a game of chance are fools. Why not toss a coin? That is chance and probability, but if you know horses and courses and watch the animals and their riders and the track close up and in the flesh, then it is not a gamble, it is the exercise of special skills.

NEIL
There was no sign of Anth at breakfast, just the kitchen staff to serve me, and it appeared that I had either missed all the other guests or there were none. Apple juice. Tea. More tea. Cereal. Tea. Then the fry-up, which got easier to eat with each mouthful. Then…

One of the kitchen girls brought me more tissues as I sat looking at the crumpets I had just toasted.

“It’s okay, Neil. Nobody else here, aye? Anth telt us what you’re up for, today, like, so no shame. We all remember her, and we all saw the news. For what it’s worth… no point to cards or flowers, we thought, but will you take a hug for her? For Maddy?”