For my second short story of the year, I again come back to an author I already know. Last year, I read Kate Chopin’s most famous work, her novella The Awakening. Aside from this, her main literary output is in short stories, so she became a natural choice for this series.
In “Désirée’s Baby,” Chopin sticks to her Louisiana setting, but this time with a stronger emphasis on slavery and racism.…
To kick off Short Story Sundays, I decided to revisit an author I already know, Willa Cather. Last year I read O Pioneers! for the first time, and it was one of my favorite reads of the entire year. Cather is known for her depiction of the vast, sparse and idyllic Great Plains, so I was surprised to see that this story takes places in a much more familiar milieu, that of New York City.
I picked this book as a Halloween horror read. What I got wasn’t quite what I expected. While I knew that Shirley Jackson also wrote about everyday and domestic life, her reputation for horror writing far eclipses the rest of her work. In this collection, most stories lean toward the everyday with twists that range from mysterious to creepy.
It’s important to note that while this book is now…
As we entered the dark house at about 4am in the morning, I cannot help but be amazed at the tidiness of the house. Not an item seemed to be out of place, the cushions on the sofa were set perfectly straight, the floor was sparkingly clean. I felt the smooth marble flooring of your living floor as you guided me into the depths of your house, passing by closed doors.
Your room was just like the rest of the house; neat, tidy, everything arranged almost clinically. You sat me down on your bed and asked if I would like something to drink after the long night. I nodded, and you left for the kitchen, leaving ne to marvel at how your room depicted your meticulousness. You returned with a cup of water for both of us, and I was thankful for the liquid that flowed down my throat, cooling the heat from all the liquor earlier.
You smiled at me, a smile that seemed so warm and natural, and I smiled in return. You stood in front of me and placed your hands on me, kneading my stiff shoulders from dancing all night. I closed my eyes and sighed, allowing your gentle caress to soothe out the ache in my bones.
As you continued to massage my shoulders, I placed the empty cup of water on the desk beside me, moving my now empty hands to hug your waist, feeling the arch of your back. I pulled you in closer, my face now against your stomach. I took a deep breath and breathed in the smell of your perfume, your scent.
With your body closer to mine, I felt you bend downwards, one of your hands moving down my back, reassuring and comforting. Your other hand reached for my head and stroked my long hair, gently patting my head with the palm of your hand. I felt a warm fuzzy feeling within me, a purr building up somewhere deep inside.
I touched your bare arms, feeling your soft and smooth skin. I reached for your back and slipped my hands under your shirt, feeling more of your bare skin, this time also feeling the stiffness of your arched back, the well-toned muscles underneath your skin. I pulled upwards and you lifted your hands off me for a moment, for me to lift your top up and above your shoulders, above your head and then off you. I was faced with a flat stomach that I could be jealous of, and skin that was just as flawless as that on your arms.
You returned your hands to me, bringing my face close to you once more, gently running your hands down the small of my back. I automatically lifted my hands up as you reached for the hem of my top, lifting them off me as I did so to you. I shivered a little at the cool air against my skin, yet I was still warmed by all the alcohol that I took in earlier. I suddenly became very self-conscious, knowing that my figure was not as good as yours.
With one fluid motion, I felt the clasp of my bra release as you placed your hands on me once more, and my breasts fell forward without the support of my bra holding them in. You reached back and undid your own, your breasts spilling forward just like mine. Your nipples were light brown and almost symmetrical, your nipples erect against the cold of the air just like mine are.
I realised that I was holding my breath, appreciative of the beauty in front of me. Your hair was thick yet luscious, flowing around your head and unto your shoulders, stopping just short of your soft mounds. Your breasts were firm and bounced lightly, and they seemed like perfectly shaped globes. Your body was just as well-defined as the rest of you, and you had v-lines that dipped down into your jeans. I have never felt so attracted to someone of the same gender before.
I was greeted by your smile as you moved towards me once more, gently holding my head in your hands, so loving and so tender. I have never experienced this with any man in my prior relationships. Somehow, I felt like you knew my body better I did, holding me in all the right spots as I sat there not knowing what to do with my hands.
I placed my head between your soft breasts and hugged you around the waist, placing my fingers into the hook of your jeans. I pulled them down and revealed your v-line further, lines that disappeared into the pair of lacy thongs that you wore. I never dared to wear something that looked so adult, so feminine. I shuddered to remember that I was only wearing a pair of usual cotton panties underneath me.
You pushed me back onto your queen-sized bed, my body gently laying down at where you must have laid a thousand times before. I felt the depress of the bed as you got on top of me, you lips inches from mine, your light brown and warm eyes staring into my very soul. I was enticed and seduced, a warm fuzzy feeling developing within me that I knew was not because of the alcohol.
With my weight on the bed, you reached below me and pulled my bottoms off, more of my nakedness revealed before you. You did not look down to make me self-conscious, but you placed your hands upon my stomach and moved downwards, ridding me of my cotton panties.
I looked into your eyes as they moved closer, your lips suddenly barely inches away from me. I felt my lips graze against yours, both our lipsticks sticking together for a moment before your lips touched mine, pressing against me softly, gently, very much unlike men who just jammed their faces against my face. Even your kisses were perfect, and it felt like your lips were moulded to fit mine. It was soft and sensual, teasing me, making me want more.
Your hair cascaded around me, your fragrance mixing with my very own. One of your hands held mine, your fingers entwined around, holding me in comfort and security. Your other hand traced my skin, skin that was not as perfect as yours was. Yet in the heat of the moment, my insecurities regarding the many bumps around my body disappeared, and for that moment I felt as pretty as you were.
I never knew touching could make me feel this good. Your fingers moved about my torso, fingertips running across my stomach, upwards and upwards, till I felt them right at the bottom of my feminine mounds. I was still entwined in my kiss with you, your lips now gently nibbling on mine, parting for a moment and going back at them again, as if I was an appetiser in a fine dining restaurant.
Your hands circled my breasts and held them gently, your fingers occasionally drifting across my sensitive nipples. In those moments, I felt the purr within me escape momentarily, and I felt your smile on my lips as these little squeaks of pleasure escaped from my lips. I felt like a child in your hands, a child that was loved and appreciated.
I tried to hold your head as you held mine earlier, but I know my attempts at mimicking you must have been clumsy, as you giggled between kisses. Your hands now moved downwards slowly, and I arched my hips upwards, my lower body craving for your touch, ready to me made yours. How I willed for your hands to move faster, for your mouth to press hard against me, your tongue to ravage my mouth. Yet you were still soft and gentle, slowly increasing my desire for you, my lust.
I felt your hand above my pubis mon, circling the few strands of unkempt pubic hair that were untamed. I felt warm between my legs, and I wanted to badly to touch myself, release myself of the sexual stress that was building up deep within me. You broke away from the kiss, staring into my puppy eyes for a moment, admiring how desperate I must have looked.
You grabbed both my hands and held them above me, pinning them own with your left. Then again, you moved your head towards me, but this time going lower than my lips. I felt your soft hair on my chest as you descended upon me, your mouth against the nape of my neck. I could barely catch the purr as it came on the way out, my mouth opening with an O and my eyes shut, enjoying your soft lips against my neck.
Your free hand moved between my legs, gently stroking my thighs upwards and upwards, and moving on to the other thigh before it reached the top. Every fibre of me felt like I was like that of a drawn bowstring, ready to be released at any moment. I swear, in that moment I could feel the moisture of my sex slowly oozing out of me, a trickle of fluid flowing from the folds of my vagina down towards the crevice of my ass.
Yet you did not relent in teasing me, your mouth moving downwards towards my breast. As you took my nipple deep inside your mouth, I felt like a jolt of electricity run through me, and I was very sure that I could not catch the moan that now freely escaped my lips. As I arched my back, I could feel some of the stress within me being released. My body tensed up and let go, my first orgasm of the night ripping through me like a bullet. I shuddered as pleasure rocked my body, yet you continued to kiss me around my nipples. I did not know I could even cum without touching myself between my legs.
I felt myself panting as the last reveries of orgasm left me, and I was sure that you knew I came. You lifted your head off me as you smiled at me, a smile that was reassuring, a smile that knew that in that moment, I was already yours.
You released my hands and laid against me, watching each breath of mine, your fingers playfully twiddling with my pubic hair above my feminine parts. I placed my arms around you and hugged, and it was indeed a different feeling, hugging another girl like myself.
You leaned your head against my breast, possibly listening to my heart that beat like a sledgehammer, my breath that came in short gasps. The aftermath of the orgasm still rocked through me, and I was dizzy from the pleasure. I even felt like there was a sweet taste on my lips, a taste that I could not describe.
As your hand cupped my mound, I knew my night was far from ending. I wanted to tell you that I was tired, that you can stop, that that was the best orgasm of my life already. Yet, a part of me wanted more, that desired still the need to be filled, and so the whole of me laid there, waiting.
You placed your middle finger against my folds, and I finally realised how wet I was, my entrance entirely soaked through with my stickiness. I felt your finger slowly parting my lips, lips that parted easily due to my arousal. My wetness invited you in, allowing you to slip into my warm flesh.
With a tired gasp, I moaned is you entered me, your finger that was not as thick as a penis, yet it felt more fulfilling, filled with the emotion of trust and security, of comfort and of love. I knew I could crave this feeling more than the filing any penis could grant.
Easily, your slipped another finger into me, feeling my depths and wetness. I gasp as your fingers started to move. I was too tired to control the sounds that came from within me naturally. I simply held on to you as I parted my legs wider in the hopes of feeling you explore me deeper.
Your fingers felt better than my own, slipping in and out of me so naturally, as if it was your own vagina that you were fingering. Between each thrust, I turned to see you watching me as you drew me nearer to my second orgasm, eyes twinkling with playful pleasure, warm, brown eyes that captivated me.
I hugged you closer as I felt my body tense once more, and as I released, I clamped my thighs around your hand, willing you to stop as my second orgasm overtook my senses. Nevertheless, you did not stop, but continued to move your fingers against me, pressing your thumb against my swollen clit and your fingers pressing against what I knew was my g-spot, a spot I never knew existed.
Despite the beautiful orgasm I felt earlier, I never knew it could feel even better. I closed my eyes as the second orgasm started to rock me, your fingers moving about deep within me. Your mouth found mine as I moaned, or maybe screamed, my shrill voice covered with your mouth. Your tongue pushed between my lips, twisting and turning within my mouth as your fingers now moved deep within me.
With that, I felt myself lose control of my body as another orgasm rode upon my second orgasm, pleasure combined with pleasure, my mind blank and my body totally yours, under your control. I felt a gush of warm liquid exit the folds of my vagina, wetting my thighs that were still shut around your fingers, experiencing my first ever squirting experience.
I never knew a pleasure like this, a pleasure I could get drunk on, get addicted on. I broke away from our kiss and opened my eyes as I felt my body subside from the orgasm. I took in the beauty of your face, your hair falling upon me, your warm brown eyes. It was like I was experiencing love all over again. I felt my consciousness fading away, tiredness taking over, and your face was the last thing I recall as I blacked out.
During the holidays, anything is possible—a second chance, a promised future, an unexpected romance, a rekindled love, or a healed heart. Treat yourself to a little holiday season romance for only $2.99 with If the Fates Allow, a short story winter anthology from five bestselling and critically-acclaimed Interlude Press authors.
“The five authors in this sweet anthology offer tender, gentle contemporary stories of hope and romance with a Christmas backdrop.” —Publishers Weekly
Gracious Living Magazine Says It Has to Be a Live Tree—Killian B. Brewer
Determined to make his first Christmas with his new boyfriend magazine-perfect, Marcus seeks the advice of lovable busy bodies, the Do-Nothings Club. When he learns that his boyfriend, Hank, may have ordered a ring, Marcus’ attempts to transform his home into a winter wonderland get out of hand.
Shay Allen returns to her hometown in Montana for the holidays with her best friend Devon with the intent to return home to L.A. by New Year’s Eve. Instead, the weather traps them in the small town, but the there’s a bright spot: her old crush Milla is still in town.
Last Call at the Casa Blanca Bar & Grille—Erin Finnegan
As the one-year anniversary of his lover’s death rolls around on Christmas, Jack Volarde finds himself at their old haunt—a bar called the Casa Blanca, where a new bartender helps him open up about loss, and see brightness in a future that had grown dim.
Avery Puckett has begun to wonder if her life has become joyless. One night, fate intervenes in the form of a scraggly dog shivering and alone in a parking lot. Avery takes him to a nearby shelter called Halfway Home where she meets bright and beautiful Grace, who is determined to save the world one stray at a time.
Shelved—Lynn Charles
When library clerk Karina Ness meets a new patron, lonely business owner, Wesley Lloyd, she puts her own love life on hold and begins a holiday matchmaking mission to connect Wes with her uncle Tony.
Now Available From IP Audio: SHINE OF THE EVER, Written & Narrated by Claire Rudy Foster
A literary mixtape of life, love, and queer community.
By turns tender and punk-tough, Shine of the Ever is a series of short stories of queer voices out of 1990s Portland. This collection of interconnected stories explores what binds a community of queer and trans people as they negotiate love, screwing up, and learning to forgive themselves for being young and sometimes foolish.
Claire Rudy Foster is a queer, nonbinary trans person in long term recovery. Foster's short story collection Shine of the Ever (Interlude Press, 2019) was named by O Magazine as one of the best LGBTQ books of the year and was also included on the ALA Over the Rainbow long list. They also co-wrote Unsettled: How the Purdue Pharma Bankruptcy Failed the Victims of the American Overdose Crisis and American Fix: Inside the Opioid Addiction Crisis - and How to End It (All Points, 2018) with Ryan Hampton. Their other writing can also be found on NPR and in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Allure, among others. They live in Portland, Oregon.
Pre-order Claire Rudy Foster’s self-narrated SHINE OF THE EVER from your favorite audiobook retailer for your chance to win a print copy signed by the author and an Amazon Echo Dot smart speaker! Submit proof of purchase to [email protected] by Nov. 16th for your chance to win! Links at https://linktr.ee/interludepress.
It’s springtime in the land of Ooo and KaBOOM, an imprint of BOOM! Studios would like to introduce you to an Adventure Time comic book special starring the lovable gaming system character Beemo, otherwise known as BMO. ‘BMO Bonanza’ is a special one-shot that features six short stories surrounding BMO: Garden Therapy, Dad Dance, BMO’s Trip, BMO Noire, Ms. Qino, & Treehouse M.D. In Garden Therapy,…
We at Twelfth Planet Press are currently crowdfunding a new anthology called Rebuilding Tomorrow. It’s a follow-up to Defying Doomsday, and maintains the theme of post-apocalyptic stories featuring disabled and/or chronically ill protagonists. However, the stories in Rebuilding Tomorrow will be set a significant time after an apocalyptic disaster with characters moving past (or that have moved past) subsistence-level existence into a new, sustainable world, even though it’s a world that has been irrevocably changed by an apocalypse.
We’re crowdfund this book so that we can pay our authors professional rates and make this book happen. We’re using Pozible instead of Kickstarter because we support worker’s rights and have been deeply disappointed in Kickstarter’s attitude towards its employees attempting to unionise. We support Kickstarter United, and hope that they are successful in their endeavours. We know that many of our supporters and readers have been likewise unhappy with Kickstarter’s unsatisfactory response to this issue, and we have chosen to respond the only way we can — by taking our business elsewhere, for now.
OnPozible, you can pre-order Rebuilding Tomorrow as a paperback, hardcover, or DRM-free ebook. You can also bundle it with a copy of Defying Doomsday (and our other recent anthologies) or an enamel pin (we have two designs to choose from!). If we meet our initial funding goal, our first stretch goal is to make an audiobook version of Rebuilding Tomorrow, because we want to make our book as accessible as possible.
I needed to read something completely engrossing, something with really cool magic and characters full of surprises. But I didn’t know exactly where to start. Should I try an author I’d never read before? Should I return to an old favorite? Did I want to read fantasy set in our world or another one entirely?
Luckily, there’s a solution to those questions. An anthology! And how convenient for me that an anthology has recently come out containing a huge selection of engrossing, magical, surprising stories. Surely one or two of them would do the trick.
I got Rogues out of the library that very night. I really like the concept of new stories about each author’s rogue-ish and mischievous characters. They’re usually my favorites in Fantasy series, anyways. I only read about five or six of the stories, and started a few others without continuing on, but there were a few I really enjoyed.
Obviously Neil Gaiman’s story, “How The Marquis Got His Coat Back”, was fun. The Marquis de Carabas was easily my favorite character in Neverwhere, and his adventure was funny and twisty. It took us back to the underground and slightly sideways world from the novel, and even introduced us to the Marquis’ brother! The story wasn’t a long one, but it was good to re-visit a character who I sort of consider an old friend. (**** 4 stars)
Michael Swanwick’s “Tawny Petticoats” had a sort of alternate wild-west feel to it. The setting was a futuristic New Orleans, with throwback fashions and some not-quite-human characters. I’ve never read any of Swanwick’s fiction before, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying his story of con men and tricky ladies. There was an interesting take on zombi-fication, which was a little freaky, and the villains weren’t very nice. In fact, even the hustler protagonists weren’t exemplary citizens, but it was fun to root for them and see what would happen. (**** 4 stars)
“Now Showing”, by Connie Willis, was really incredibly strange. It was about college students in such a near future I felt it could be a peek into life ten years from now. There wasn’t much magic to speak of in her story, aside from the enchantment caused by mysterious boys who make you want to listen to them even when they’re being cryptic assholes. In the end I did like the story, even though I was making a really puzzled facial expression the whole time I read it. I then recommended that one of my film-geek friends read it, because I knew she would like the cinematic theme and all the hidden movie references. (*** 3 stars)
As for “A Year And A Day In Old Theradane”, it was my favorite story (of those I read) and another one by an author I’d never tried before. How, exactly, have I made it through 23 and a half years without reading Scott Lynch?!? This situation needs to be rectified ASAP, because I LOVED “A Year And A Day In Old Theradane.” It was EXACTLY the sort of story I wanted to read, and nearly cured my fantasy craving all on its own. The cast of characters was largely female – this deserves an extra huzzah in “high fantasy” literature, where that’s not always the case – and they were all so bloody cool!
This was another heist story of sorts, with lots of entertaining plans and slapstick failures while the fatal clock runs down. The main character and her old crew have sworn off crime after being granted clemency, but they’re getting restless in their retirement. When a wizard battle shatters the serenity of Therandane by causing huge creatures to fall from the sky and into their favorite bar, Amarelle goes and gets herself in trouble. She and her friends have a year and a day to steal an entire street, or an extravagant and powerful woman will ruin them completely. The magic in this story was unique (enchanted mixed drinks, anyone?), the setting was vivid, and I felt like I’d known these characters for years. Next time I want to read some good old fashioned grown-up Fantasy — with creates characters so lively they might walk off the page, and a touch of humor to even the most dire circumstances –I’m absolutely going to try Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastard series.(***** 5 stars)
I didn’t get a chance to read about half the stories, but there are a few which caught my eye that I’ll surely try to read during my next visit to the library. Some others failed to capture my attention, but the beauty of an anthology is that you can just move one and find something more appealing. I’m not sure that every author gave the roguery prerequisite an equal amount of consideration, but whatever. The stories I read were pretty good, I now have some new authors to read who might soon become favorites, and the fantasy craving was assuaged. So Rogues is worth checking out, for fantasy fans, whether you’re familiar with these authors or not.
La Raza Anthology: Unidos y Fuertesis a collection of works celebrating and analyzing our experiences with cultures from Latin America.
Tired of the very little Latinx representation in the art scene, we created La Raza Anthology as a way to give creators proper recognition & chance to address important issues that matter to us.
In Spanish, la raza literally translates as “the race”, a term stemmed from Mexican scholar José Vasconcelos’s phrase, La Raza Cósmica (“the cosmic race”). Because Latin America is a mixture of different races & cultures (Latinx= an ethnicity not a race), we use La Raza as a term define our community by celebrating our roots. Which is what we hope to do with our anthology!
Cover by Kat Fajardo
By backing our Kickstarter you can help us in getting La Raza printed, a 120 paged book of full color comics, illustrations and stories, as well as receiving a bundle of fun prizes that emulate our beautiful cultura.And we need your help!!
*This is the first printing of what was later retitled Samantha Saves the Wedding. It was printed again in the November/December 1996 issue with new illustrations.*
Thank you so much for the magazine scans!
Folks can see the edited illustrations that was used in the published book here!
