Alejandro never knew what hit him.

The Thing That Knows What It Is
by Joyce Melton

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

Atticus Carver, the star wide receiver, a popular sophomore in a high school in Louisiana, is about to get a change to his life he doesn't expect or want - and it's all in public.

Now the person who changed him to her, in spite of feeling terrible for what they did to an innocent young life and potentially more, wants one-hundred-million dollars wired to multiple bank accounts within a month and all of the CIA's info released to the public, or they'll set the gender-bending spores on the whole of the United States

Atticus is left reeling from everything, having to pick a new name for herself, learn to be a girl in high school, to finding new romances, to keeping her old friends and finding new ones, to picking up a brand-new sport for herself...and making enemies that she has no idea how to deal with...

I will also be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com and ScribbleHub.com.

The character in my dreams was not as common as Nancy or Victoria, but I was still quite familiar with her. Mona was a witch, a sorceress, whatever. A woman who did magic using a magic wand.

Chapter 8: At the Threshold

Morning arrived softly at the Temple of Aphrodite.

Hood up. Hair bundled underneath it, more or less contained. The sweatshirt is the largest I own and it reaches mid-thigh and in the elevator to the lab I stand with my face down and the hood forward.

I get to my desk before anyone else. This was the plan.

I open the overnight logs and they are good — rabbit's margins holding, pathway data clean, projection unchanged — and I focus on this and not on the fact that I am sitting in a laboratory in November in sandals and a hoodie like someone who has not quite finished becoming a person.

Good morning.

"Morning."

One

This time, Samantha announced her arrival by knocking on the door after she opened it. “Good morning, Sandy. Did you sleep well?” She bent down to pick something up from the carpet. “How did this thing get here?”

Sandy looked at her through bleary eyes. He felt drained, and his body ached as if he had the flu.

“How did what thing get where?” he croaked.

She held up a large black feather. “I think it’s from one of those rooks from around here,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Nasty birds.”

Chapter 2

My name is Alice Mary McConnell and I’m a teenage girl, wondering what my future holds for me. I don’t wish for things any longer. After a week of getting used to seeing the new me in mirrors, and learning to move around in a nightie, I was almost ready to face the world.

Monday morning. The soreness is there when I wake - interior, a tenderness that locates itself when I move. I lie there for a moment taking stock of it, and then I get up.

Downstairs Emily is at the sink, her back to me. She turns when she hears me and her face has something in it - a careful stillness, the effort of someone holding their expression steady over something else. The coffee is already made. She pours me a cup without speaking and then turns back to the sink and grips the edge of it with both hands and breathes slowly through her nose.

One

Sandy awoke to the racket of a lawnmower beneath his window, followed by the ear-shredding shriek of a leaf blower. Mhairi had said the gardeners came once a week, and as he pulled his pillow over his head, he would tell Overstrand that he could earn another fortune by inventing silent garden machinery.

 One

Samantha’s knock on the door didn’t rouse Sandy from his sleep at first. It wasn’t until she had entered the room and drawn back the curtains, letting bright sunlight stream through the windows, that he opened his eyes, startled to see her there. He had kicked off the duvet during the night, and only as he sat up did he remember what he was wearing, desperately pulling the duvet up to cover himself. 

“What are you doing, Sam?” he squealed.

Chapter 1

My name is Alec Martin McConnell, and I don’t call myself religious, although I’ve been asking anybody who may be listening to grant my wish. Not every night, but often enough. I knew, in my mind, that it was futile, but my brain wasn’t wired to listen to reason.

Day Two

One

Sandy sat up in bed and groped for the phone, but missed, knocking it onto the floor instead. He cursed and got out of bed to find it. It had stopped vibrating, but it started again as he picked it up off the floor. Sandy sat on the bed and, without thinking, pressed accept, and nearly fainted when Overstrand’s face appeared on a FaceTime call. 

The walk happens the way weekend walks happen - without planning, Emily suggesting it over coffee, the two of us ending up on the path along the reservoir without having formally decided to go there.

It's a good morning for it. The spring air still cool enough to need a light layer, the trees along the path in the green of early May that doesn't last, the reservoir flat and grey-blue in the morning light. Emily walks beside me with her coffee in a travel mug and I walk beside her and we don't talk much, which is the right amount.

“Yeah, practically an all-new me...”

Pete's Vagina
86. Conversion
by Erin Halfelven

Chapter 5

Going back to school felt more intimidating than facing the training chamber.

NOTE: This story was originally posted in single large chunk. But some readers have indicated that it was hard to navigate, so I've split it into two parts.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

SYNOPSIS: In 1566 Constantinople, a Janissary is bitten by an ancient vampiress and awakens transformed; first into something between genders, then, through blood and hunger, into a woman. Across five centuries she moves through mercenary camps, European brothels, the court of Versailles, Victorian England, two World Wars, and the New World; feeding discreetly, loving unwisely, and burying everyone she touches. Her body is clay, shaped by desire and will. And the woman who made her has been watching all along,