As you can see this is a part 3. Normally that means that there is a part 1 and a part 2 as well. That’s not always true but in this case it happens to be. I think I said something similar before part 2. Still true, as is that you will be much more confused if you read part 3 without having read parts 1 and 2. I had not intended to write a part 3 but here we go (there is a part 4 as well). Oh, before I start. You can blame this on Emma Anne Tate and a comment of hers. I really hadn’t any intention to milk Chrysanthemum more. After all he has no breasts. But Chrysanthemum has got friends.

Chapter Two – To The Victor Go The Spoils

In 1957 Ashely Bellamy is held captive in her cabin deep in the woods. Both she and her captor have to face the consequences of their past whilst looking to the future after they discover a connection that helps them understand each other.

Early dismissal came as planned.

Natalie, Maddie, and Riley collected Samuel from the classroom and folded him back into their group with practiced ease. They left St. Catherine's among the other girls, surrounded by backpacks, voices, and the ordinary relief of a short school day.

Outside, Maddie's mother was waiting in the car.

Samuel prepared himself to sit quietly and say as little as possible.

"Hi, girls," Maddie's mother called from the front seat. "How was school?"

"Good," the three answered almost together.

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.

Nancy revealed the surprising fact that she remembered her time at home alone the days she wasn’t here the last week, though she didn’t remember any such time before that. Specifically, she remembered starting her period on Monday. Until now, she hadn’t remembered any specific event from any time I wasn’t dreaming about her, though it seemed like she implicitly knew some things that she should have known if she grew up at the same time as and down the street from me, even if her house was at an imaginary address on my street.

Monday morning. The last six weeks since the hotel have passed with barely a notice as I settle into new rhythms.

I'm washing my chest the way I always wash my chest and my hand passes over the left nipple and I stop.

There's something there.

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?

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.