Married Quarters
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I am slightly embarrassed that I did not pick her sooner, having worked with transwomen before. I am not even sure what tipped me off, but it must have been enough to give me confidence to say: “You’re trans aren’t you?” She looked as if I had pulled her whole world down around her.

The Costume Draw
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Because of the images, and my inability to format properly, this is best told in pdf format...

Homebreaker
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I used to say that I could wrap Daddy around my little finger. I suppose that is what most daughters say. He basically gave me everything I asked for, but really it was just because he could afford it. Some things he would never let me have. A sex life seemed like one of those.

Rumspringa
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Ours had always been a very religious household. I guess Mom was really the key to that. Dad always said the strength of faith comes from the women. But he was the elder in our church, and he seemed fully committed.

Robber
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

What can I say? I am a criminal. It is almost as if I have never had a choice. I just like to get things the easy way. Sure, there are consequences, but the trick is to not be caught.

Clothes
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

What woman feels comfortable about her boyfriend staring at other women? It is not just annoying, it is demoralizing. OK, so I might not be the best-looking woman, but I expect his eyes to be on me.

Muse
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“You do believe that my work is art, don’t you,” said Claude.

“Of course, I do,” Blythe said. “And I only want to play a role in helping you to be that artist.”

And that, is the title and essence of this story.

A Special Kind of Revenge
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

The Dark Lady
A Short Story
Based on a literary mystery
By Maryanne Peters

That is what Mr Shakespeare called me – “the Dark Lady”. The name is right enough. My mother was mulatto. She was attractive enough to earn the affection of the man what owned her. I was born by that joinder. To my good fortune my blood father had good conscience enough to provide a little for my mother, and by her graces when I enjoyed them, myself.

Summer Times
A Novelette in a Dickensian Style
By Maryanne Peters

Chapter One

“I have a proposal for you, Mr. Summers,” she said. She appeared to me to be a fine woman, of imperious bearing and with an expensive frock – totally out of place in the gatehouse where we first met that day.

Her Roommate
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

He was really no threat to our relationship. I suppose it says something about my insecurity that I thought he might be. I have heard it said that there are reachers and settlers in every relationship. A guy like me reaches high, and a girl like Miranda is willing to drop a rung or two to go out with me. That’s how I felt anyway.

The Huntress
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Maid of Orleans
A Short Story based on Fact
By Maryanne Peters

House Spouse
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

I worked alongside Matt Linaker for three years. I had no idea that he was anything other than a normal guy. I knew that he was married, so the fact that he had a slightly effeminate appearance I simply put down to “metrosexuality”.

Summer Intern
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Who could believe such an asshole could become my closest friend? I put it down to the power of womanhood. When it comes down to it, we are the superior sex. Our chemistry can dominate and drown out the worst things about men.

The Governess
A Short Story based on American History
By Maryanne Peters

It was in the year 1703, 20 years ago, that I first came to work for Edward Hyde, His Lordship Lord Cornbury, then His High Mightiness the Governor of the Colony of New Amsterdam, now the state of New York in the Americas. Now I am Lord Cornbury, soon to die, while he who once was His Lordship, leads the life he always wanted on those distant shores.

A Friend when Needed
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Tad looked suddenly very serious. The game was long over and the last two pieces of pizza had gone cold. Beer had been drunk: enough to lower the inhibitions but not enough to drop them both into a stupor. He looked at Jason, squarely in the eyes.

“I can trust you, man,” he said, “I know I can. We’ve been true pals for so long that I feel I can tell you anything. I can, can’t I?”

Molly Grows Up
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Laundromat
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Despite the fact that they were the only two people in the laundromat at that hour, she came over to use the machine next to his.

She was tall. Her hair was blonde, in a short bob with slight curls. She wore makeup despite her clothing being casual. She was looking at his load of laundry.

Father of the Bride
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

“Dad has every right to bring a partner to my wedding, having paid for all of this,” said Sonia, waving her hand around the reception area.  There were hours to go before the ceremony, but they had already been to the hairdresser and she wanted a final inspection of the facilities.

Triplets
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Is it not every guy’s fantasy? To have a threesome with a pair of gorgeous twins? My only problem was that there was only one difference between Meghan and Moira Spillane, and it was not an obvious one – Moira is a lesbian.

Weddings
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Wedding Number One

“Come on, it will be fun,” Maggie McMullen said. “It will be them against us. The McMullen ladies against the Cavendish gentlemen.”

“You have to see how crazy this is,” said Rory. “Why the hell does Charlie want us to turn up to your wedding in wigs and frocks?”

Goat
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Rob and Maria Dunleavy had lived next to Dean Rusbatch for almost 10 years. Rob and Maria had achieved an ambition in setting up a milking goat farm on 20 acres at the bottom of Whistledown Valley, and further up the valley road Dean kept cattle. They lived with their two pre-school children in a small farmhouse that Rob had largely built with his own hands.