Authors note: Hi, short chapter for this week. This felt like it could have been the end of the story, and it would be if this is was a story about Grace, but this is a story about Lucy and Sarah and they are far from resolved. I'm just about finished with chapter 32, but I'm not sure if I'm going to finish posting the story here since I'm concerned with publishing issues. I'm planning on cleaning it up and publishing an ebook this summer. Thanks again for reading and your comments.

Chapter 29 February 22nd, 2026

 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.

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, or they'll set the gender-bending spores on D.C.

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.

When I awoke, Victoria was there in the place of the doll. Remember when I said her story was for another time? I guess it’s “another time” now.

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.

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.

With apologies to Ambrose Bierce author of the famous American Civil War story. There was no redemption in that story, nor is there any in this.

Only read on when you have read the Cautions.

This story reflects the attitudes of the time in which it’s set.

The groups involved are not important. The story is about attitudes, not politics.

******************************************************************************************************************

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of a villainess, facing the end of a doomed route he himself wrote, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amelia quickly finds that reality has filled in the details she failed to describe. The characters who were so flat when she wrote them now have nuance, and motives. The kingdom she wrote into existence is experiencing internal strife she never even thought about. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system, or the demon that forced her into this situation to begin with...

Oh, and then there's the fact that she's about to be arrested and executed... but surely she can come up with a way to write herself out of that, right?

...Right?

[Note - this section contains an alcohol-induced gap in Caden's memory with ambiguity around what happens during that gap, referenced later in the story. In case this is upsetting to some readers I'm giving warning here.]

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The intercom buzzes twice before Hale's voice crackles through — "Who is it?" — the same baritone Caden had heard on a hundred conference calls, smooth as poured bourbon.

"Caden Voss." His voice comes out softer than he intended, vowels rounding at the edges.

A pause. The static hisses.

"Sorry?"