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 wake at five-seventeen and lie very still.

Wednesday I woke to the first of it — the small buds, the wider hips, the absence below the waistband. This is Thursday. Whatever the process is, it has not stopped.

I move my hands.

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.

Chapter 1

Detective Inspector Marilyn Houseman and Detective Sergeant George ‘Ginger’ Kidman walked into the murder team office, with the rest of the team stopping to look at them. Marilyn smiled and they all cheered.

“Terry Hanson got twenty-five years for each murder, consecutive, with the judge appalled at the brutality. That’s on top of the five that he got for smuggling and possession of illegal firearms. He’s unlikely to be out in our lifetime.”

Morning light finds him asleep in his clothes, barely rested. He packs both devices into his messenger bag and heads for the closest repair shop.

The bell jingles as he enters. A technician glances up from behind the counter — early twenties, a name tag reading ETHAN. His eyes skim past Caden's shoulders, landing somewhere around chin level. "Help you, ma'am?"

Caden's breath hitches. He sets the laptop and phone on the counter.

"Sir," he says, his pitch higher than expected, higher than a man's should be. He coughs, tries again. "Biometric lockout."

Absinthe and Roulette both go home for Christmas vacation, but events draw them and their friends together.

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Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

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.

“You gonna be much longer in there?” my flatmate asks as I apply the finishing touches to my make-up and give my ever-growing hair one final brush.

“Just a sec,” I reply. “Just got one last thing to do….” I smile as I reach into my medicine drawer and retrieve the two packets of pills that over the last two weeks have become beyond precious to me. The fact that one packet is labelled ‘progesterone’ and the other ‘oestrogen’ should be all you need to know why.

The Candidate’s Wife
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Authors Note: Hi! Seven chapters left I think. Thank you for all being my beta readers. Your comments are what keeps me excited to continue posting. If you've enjoyed my story there is something you could do for me. Give me some constructive criticism. I'm going to go back through the text and work on grammar, but I'm also considering making a few changes. You could also let me know where you think this is going to go.

This is a story about a trans woman taking her first steps into the big bad world. ( not my usual sex stuff )

I looked out of the window of my small bedsit one last time as I steeled myself to face the world. I held my breath and nearly scrambled out of my front door and the main door. I forced myself not to run up the path. I had been watching to make sure my neighbours were not approaching or leaving. A few steps and I was on the street.