Migration – Out Now!

Migration

Queer Sci Fi has just released the annual QSF Flash Fiction anthology. This year, the theme is "Migration."

MI-GRA-TION (noun)

1) Seasonal movement of animals from one region to another.

2) Movement of people to a new area or country in order to find work or better living conditions.

3) Movement from one part of something to another.

Three definitions to inspire writers around the world and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell. Here are 120 of our favorites.

Migration feaures 300 word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.

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Excerpt

Migration meme

Each year, hundreds of writers send in stories for the Queer Sci Fi flash fiction anthology. Here are the opening lines from some of the stories chosen for the 2019 edition – Migration:

“Darkness has substance. It is tangible; different shades within the black, sounds, a taste. It is accompanied by self-awareness of time and thoughts, even when other senses fail.” —Hope for Charity, by Robyn Walker

“The sky has been screaming for five straight days when the shrimps come to take us away. They’ve been boxing up the others and hauling them off. Now they’re here for us, soaking wet, dragging cords and crates behind them.” —Shrimpanzee, Sionnain Bailey

“Allister always had faultless hair. He’d comb and gel it to perfection while gazing in the mirror. One day a pair of eyes stared back.” —Zulu Finds a Home, by Kevin Klehr

“On her sister’s wedding day Ari noticed that one of her ears had migrated to her hand. It was right after her high school crush, Emily, arrived with Cousin Matt.” —Playing It By Ear, Aidee Ladnier

“The wound was fatal. Their vessel wouldn't live much longer. This is what came from leaving loose ends. Frantically they sought out a new vessel to migrate to. “ —The Essence, by L.M. Brown

“That night, we were sitting in the bed of her daddy’s old pickup truck and the radio was playing the best song. We had a pack of cigarettes between us and her hand was almost touching mine. The wheat field was silver in the moonlight. When they came, we weren’t surprised, just disappointed that our time was up already.” —Our Song, by Lauren Ring

“Willow said she was my wife, but I knew it wasn’t her, not the right her, anyway. Sure she looked like her with olive skin and bright pink hair. She even smelled of mango flowers, just like I remembered, but there was something about her smile that was slightly off, something about when she said she loved me that didn’t sit well in my old heart.” — They Said It Would Be Her, by Elizabeth Andre

“Agnes is eight when she first sees the river. Cutting its way through town, the only thing she knows not coated in coal dust. She sticks her toes in, comes home with wet socks and a secret. See, the river hadn’t been there yesterday.” —Stream of Consciousness, by Ziggy Schutz

“Terry twirled in her green synthsilk dress, looked at her reflection, liked what she saw. She felt good in her own skin, for maybe the first time.” —Altball, by RE Andeen

“The thing was in the corner. It had come through the window and had slid down the wall. Scratch went the sound. The noise of a hundred nails clawing at the wood. Nails of white bone. Alex pulled the sheets up quickly, covering every inch of skin and hair in a warm darkness.” —Whose Nightmare, by Jamie Bonomi


Author Bio

A hundred and twenty authors are included in Migration:

  • Butterflies, by A O'Donovan
  • The Return, by A.M. Leibowitz
  • A New Spring, by Aaron Silver
  • Universal Quota, by Abby Bartle
  • The Call of Home, by Adrienne Wilder
  • Starfall, by Adrik Kemp
  • Playing it By Ear, by Aidee Ladnier
  • Rabbit, by Amanda Thomas
  • That Does Not Love…, by Andi Deacon
  • Inborn, by Andrea Speed
  • Saving Ostakis, by Angelica Primm
  • A Dawn Wish, by Antonia Aquilante
  • Diaspora, by Ariel E. James
  • Transmigration, by Ashby Danvers
  • Across the Mirror, by Ava Kelly
  • Between, by BE Allatt
  • The Speck, by Bey Deckard
  • The King of the Mountain Cometh, by Bob Goddard
  • Before and After, by C. A. Chesse
  • Home, by C.A. McDonald
  • Too Much Tech, by C.L. Mannarino
  • Ze Who Walks Into the Future, by Carey Ford Compton
  • The Gate, by Carol Holland March
  • Our Last Light Skip, by Chloe Spencer
  • Passage, by Christine Taylor-Butler
  • The Perils of Pick-Up Lines, by Colton Aalto
  • Parched, by Crysta K. Coburn
  • Changeling Dreams, by Damian Serbu
  • Destinations, by Dave Creek
  • Another Job, Another Planet, by David Viner
  • Thiefmaster Rosalind's Apprentice, by Devon Widmer
  • A Weight Off Their Shoulders, by Diane Morrison
  • Once a Year, by Dianne Hartsock
  • Mettle, by Die BoothForever Bound, by E.W. Murks
  • They Said It Would Be Her, by Elizabeth Andre
  • Til Death Do Us Part, by Elizabeth Anglin
  • Little One, by Eloreen Moon
  • GBFN, by Emilia Agrafojo
  • The Long Distance Thing, by Ether Nepenthes
  • Call My People Home, by Evelyn Benvie
  • Jace vs. the Incubi, by Eytan Bernstein
  • A New Tradition, by Foster Bridget Cassidy
  • The Curious Cabinet, by Ginger Streusel
  • Ready, by Hank Edwards
  • The Albatrosses, by Harry F. Rey
  • A Boy's Shadow, by Helen De Cruz
  • Portrait of a Lady, by Isobel Granby
  • Beam That Is In, by J. Comer
  • The Hunt, by J. R. Frontera
  • Repeating History, by J. Summerset
  • Neil's Journey, by J.P. Bowie
  • Homeward Bound, by J.S. Garner
  • Whose Nightmare?, by Jamie Bonomi
  • A Moment of Bravery, by Jessie Pinkham
  • Laetus, by Jet Lupin
  • Where You Go, I'll Follow, by Joe Baumann
  • Ambrose Out of Ash, by Jonathan Fesmire
  • Shooting Modes, by Joshua Darrow
  • TerrorForm, by Juam Jocom
  • The Curse, by Jude Reid
  • Throwing Eggs, by K E Olukoya
  • Fly, by Kayleigh Sky
  • The Keep, by KC Burn
  • Zulu Finds a Home, by Kevin Klehr
  • The Risks and Advantages of Data Migration, by Kim Fielding
  • Irreversible, by kim gryphon
  • Looner, by Krishan Coupland
  • The Essence, by L.M. Brown
  • Our Song, by Lauren Ring
  • O Human Child, by Lisa Hamill
  • Goodbye Marghretta, by Lou Sylvre
  • Choices, by LV Lloyd
  • Endangered Species, by M Joseph Murphy
  • Planet Retro, Unplugged, by M. X. Kelly
  • Elemental, by M.D. Grimm
  • To Wish on a Love Knot, by Margaret McGaffey Fisk
  • Firebirds, by Marita M. Connor
  • Breeding Season, by Mary Newman
  • Kooks at Home, by Matt McHugh
  • Spring, by Mere Rain
  • Into the South, by Mindy Leana Shuman
  • Not How We Planned It, by Minerva Cerridwen
  • What Is Left Behind, by Monique Cuillerier
  • How Far Would You Go for the One You Love?, by Nathan Alling Long
  • Innocence, by Nathaniel Taff
  • Heart and Soul, by Nils Odlund
  • Tides, by Patricia Scott
  • Killer Queen, by Paula McGrath
  • Genesis, by Pelaam
  • If Pigs Could Fly, by Penelope Friday
  • Click, by R R Angell
  • Be Kind to Strangers, by Raina Lorring
  • Altball, by RE Andeen
  • Far From Home, by Riley S. Keene
  • Hope for Charity, by Robyn Walker
  • Night Comes to the Bea Arthur, by Rory Ni Coileáin
  • MIG Ration, by S R Jones
  • Going Back, by Sacchi Green
  • World Behind and Home Ahead, by Sara Testarossa
  • The Call of the Suet, by Sarah Hadley Brook
  • Research & Development, by Shaina Phillips
  • Into the Void, by Shannon Brady
  • The Silkie's Dance, by Shannon West
  • Seal Hunt, by Shirley Meier
  • Shrimpanzee FIRST IN BOOK, by Sionnain Bailey
  • The Woman With No Name, by Siri Paulson
  • Memories of Clay, by Spencer Mann
  • Simulacrum, by Steve Carr
  • The Experience, by Steve Fuson
  • Flight, by Steven Harper
  • Birds of New Atlantis, by Stewart C Baker
  • Lurching Forward, by Sydney Blackburn
  • Spores of Retribution, by Tray Ellis
  • Skin Hunger, by Treasure Nguyen
  • Elvira, by Trevor Barton
  • Ever After, by Warren Rochelle
  • Into the Light, by Wart Hill
  • Dryads, by X Marduk
  • Stream of Consciousness, by Ziggy Schutz

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

The Wanderer – Part Seven

Author’s Note:
This is an unedited, ongoing serial that will eventually be published in novel form. Plot/characters/elements are subject to change as it is being written. It’s currently in 1st person/present tense, but I may change it to past tense, excluding the first chapter which will act as an intro. Read at your own discretion and take note of story tags below.


Genre: Post-Apocalyptic sci-fi
Tags: prostitution, graphic sex, large age gap, violence, theft, drug/alcohol abuse, depression, rape, gang rape, cannibalism, murder, incest, child/infant death and abuse, general abuse, (more to be added as the story goes)


Despite Pytre not weighing more than my right leg, I’m gasping for breath by the time I reach the hostel. I have to shift him in my arms to reach the keypad, and he nearly slips out of my hold when I push the door open with my shoulder.

Apple is lying on the bed with his back to me, naked from the waist down, with the neck of an aluminium water bottle sticking out of his ass.

“So… how many credits did you just piss away?” he says peevishly as he turns. Apple’s eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

“Move,” I growl, my arms trembling from the strain of holding Pytre. Apple quickly does as he’s told and I set my burden down on the bed with a grunt. I grab the bottle of lube as it rolls towards Pytre and toss it off the bed.

“Oh, wait, I know him,” Apple says, leaning over the bed. The bright silver bottleneck catches my eye again and I frown. “That’s the Rimer who hired me, ain’t it?” He straightens and my imagination paints such a vivid picture of the bottle lodged up his ass, it’s like I’ve got x-ray vision. I swallow. Outside of some cock-sucking and a few rounds of mutual wanking when we’re not fucked-out from work, Apple and I don’t have a physical relationship. In fact, the only time I fucked him was the day we met. However, right now all I can think is how I’d like to pull that bottle out of him and plug his hole with my dick instead. What about the promise I made to him? No sucking, no fucking. Well, sure, he sucks my cock from time to time but that’s on him.

“What’s with the… um…” I say, gesturing vaguely at his nakedness.

Yeah, when I pull the bottle out, I’ll keep his cheeks spread and spit a few times into his gaping hole before giving it a good drilling. I’m giving myself a raging hard-on but I can’t help it. Pytre’s got me wound up tight.

“I got a date with Herc later,” he says. “I figured I’d go prepared.”

“Ah.” Turk the Merc is well known for his excessive love of implants and his massive cock is the stuff of nightmares. Well, unless you’re like Apple—he seems to like the challenge.

Apple’s brows slowly move towards each other and he narrows his eyes at me. His skin is mostly cleared up and his stubble is less patchy, and he looks like a different person. His face has changed for the better in other ways too, like his jaw is wider and cheeks sharper—what with the mop of blond curls and exotic eyes, he’s turning into a real stunner. I clench my teeth, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

What?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Apple says, taking a step towards me. He tilts his head to the side, pauses, then unzips his shirt, dropping it on the ground. I look down, breaking his gaze. He’s got a great body, muscular, but not in that fake way, and his dick is pretty too. Jesus. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back.

Nonchalantly cupping the bulge in the front of my pants, he grins. “Wha’s this, eh mis’tuh? Whatchoo wanna?” he says playfully as he squeezes my meat. “Hm?”

I let out a shaky breath, not trusting myself to speak. What would I say anyway?

“You like that?” he breathes, massaging my dick through my pants.

“Yeah,” I reply, closing my eyes. His breath feathers my face as he moves in closer and I feel the barest tickling touch of his lips on mine. Not a kiss, just a tease. As he’s unclipping my belt, I look down into his mismatched eyes, breathing hard. “You don’t have to.”

Apple licks his lips, his gaze intense. “I know.” He slips one hand into my pants and grabs my dick. The sound that comes out of me is a strangled groan and he chuckles.

“Your hand’s cold,” I say, my voice hoarse.

Grinning wider, Apple tugs my pants down to my thighs and takes my cock in both hands, stroking it slowly. “It’s too bad I’ve already got a date tonight… I’d let you stick it in me…”

“Oh yeah?” I swallow, trying to play it cool, but the way my dick is jerking and twitching in Apple’s skilled hands probably paints a crystal-clear picture of exactly how much I’m dying to “stick it in him”.

There’s something mischievous about Apple’s expression—I know he’s enjoying torturing me. “Buuuut… I don’t think Turk’ll like the sloppy seconds and I have to leave soon,” he says with a little pout. Disappointed, I just close my eyes again, reminding myself to be thankful for whatever he’ll offer—he’s still jerking me off, after all.

Just as I’m starting to get close, Apple lets go of my dick, and I open my eyes to find him bent over, bracing himself on the foot of the bed. He shakes his pert backside at me, wagging the bottle like some sort of perverse tail.

“Ok… go on. But don’t you dare cum inside me.”

“Right.” I fumble with the greasy neck of the bottle, hands clumsy with excitement, and pull it out of him slowly. His pucker stays open, a deep pink cavern, then it winks shut as he looks over his shoulder at me, his grin crooked. I’m literally dripping by the time I push the head of my cock into him, and when my whole shaft just slides into him, easy as a pie, the sound I make can only be called a whimper. Jesus.

I can’t see his face because he’s turned away from me again, but the moan that comes out of him sounds genuine. I think.

Hell, why do I care?

Grabbing hold of his hips, I pound my cock deep into him a dozen times, doing mental gymnastics to prolong the moment as much as I can, but it’s no good, and for a sec I nearly forget about pulling out. Gritting my teeth, I yank my dick out of Apple and spray his back with a long groan.

“Boy, that was quick,” Apple says, looking back at me with a laugh.

“Fuck,” I say, panting. Then I freeze, because I see Pytre’s awake and staring right at me. I can’t tell what his expression is, I’m all fog-brained, but I think it’s either shock or disgust. Damn it. Apple gives me a curious look and turns to see what I’m staring at.

“Oh, hi there, preacher man,” Apple says cheerfully, still bent over the bed, his hands to either side of Pytre’s feet.

Pytre just blinks slowly at Apple then lifts his eyes to mine again.

“I uh,” I say, backing away from Apple to pull my pants up. “You’re awake.”

“Hey, wait! You’re not done here,” Apple reminded me.

“Sorry.” I’m so jittery, I nearly trip over myself getting to the toilet unit on the other wall. I grab the towel above the basin then clean up Apple’s back as best as I can, all the while avoiding Pytre’s gaze. When I’m done, Apple straightens and turns towards me, surprising me by pecking a kiss on my cheek just as I make eye contact with Pytre again. The ex-Rimer’s expression doesn’t change but the rims of his ears are suddenly very pink.

Pytre followed me into the desert, suffered god only knows, and this is his reward. Yeah, he should have known better.

“I’ll be home in a few hours,” Apple says, pausing at the door. The smile he gives me is strange—I’ve never seen it on his face before. “Have fun.”

I watch him go, wondering why it feels like I’ve done something doubly wrong, then I turn back to the bed. “That doesn’t usually happen,” I say, my voice gruff because I’m embarrassed and annoyed at myself.

Pytre’s eyebrows rise and his forehead wrinkles up like ripples in the sand. “I see.” He looks away and starts to sit up, so I drop to a squat next to the low bed and give him a hand, shoving the one lumpy pillow between his head and the wall as he scoots back. “Where am I?”

“Drenner’s Discount Hostel.” I wince, my knees aching from the strain, and use the bed frame to get up high enough so I can sit on the edge of the mattress. “Off Launch Drive. Not far from where you found me. You passed out.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the top of his head. He won’t look at me. “I don’t remember.”

“You want something to eat now?”

“Yes… Please.” This time he does meet my eye and the smile that curves his lips is earnest. “I’m famished. I could eat for days.”

I nearly jog down the stairs to the row of vend-o-tron machines and then pick one of everything that’s edible, trying not to think about my diminishing credits. Worse comes to worse, I’ll sell some blood to make it up. Or… I’ll let Turk have a go at me. I know he’s interested—he’s said as much. Walking back up the staircase with my arms full, I try not to think of Apple prepping himself for Turk’s monster. I can do it if it means getting Apple and me off this rock.

I stop at the door. Shit, what about Pytre? He’ll want to come too, won’t he? Or maybe not after what he just witnessed.

But if he does want to come… that’s going to complicate things when it comes to division of labour. I can’t imagine Pytre slinging ass alongside the two of us, but I doubt he’s got much in the way of real skills to do anything else. Shit.

Pushing open the door, I start to say something about the vacu-packaged bounty I secured, but I see that Pytre’s fallen unconscious again. I step into the room, dumping the food on the storage unit and lean over the bed to check his pulse. Just as I touch him, he smacks his lips, wrinkles his nose, and lets out a soft snore.

Chuckling to myself, I sit down on the bed next to him. Not unconscious—only asleep. I watch him for a few moments, then I reach out and take his hand in mine, careful so he won’t wake. I shake my head and sigh, squeezing his hand gently. You shouldn’t have followed me, I think at him. Shaking my head again, I touch the light on the wall, dimming it. But I’m glad you did.

We’ll figure something out.


The Wanderer – Part Six

Author’s Note:
This is an unedited, ongoing serial that will eventually be published in novel form. Plot/characters/elements are subject to change as it is being written. It’s currently in 1st person/present tense, but I may change it to past tense, excluding the first chapter which will act as an intro. Read at your own discretion and take note of story tags below.


Genre: Post-Apocalyptic sci-fi
Tags: prostitution, graphic sex, large age gap, violence, theft, drug/alcohol abuse, depression, rape, gang rape, cannibalism, murder, incest, child/infant death and abuse, general abuse, (more to be added as the story goes)


I’m still in shock as he slumps towards me—I easily catch him and hold him against me. He’s just skin and bones, light as a feather in my arms, and he smells like he hasn’t bathed in weeks. Weakly, his arms come around my waist, fingers scrabbling up under my jacket to clutch my shirt as he presses his face to my chest. I realize he’s crying and I’m just frozen in place, wondering what to do. After his shaking subsides a bit, I pat him awkwardly on the back.

“Hey, padre.” I try to make my voice all gentle-like, but it comes out raspy. “Pytre?” I say when he still hasn’t come up for air. The knobs of his spine fit between the knuckles of my splayed fingers, and I can feel his heartbeat in my fingertips. I move my hand and encounter a swelling over his ribs—Pytre lets out a low groan like it hurts. Frowning, I carefully dislodge him from my front. In the dim light of the bar, I see he’s got a few smudges of sickly greenish-yellow on his face—healed bruises—and a shiny pink scar on his cheek.

Padre, you look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Pytre gives me a crooked grin, then wipes his teary face with his palms, leaving streaks of dirt behind.

I beckon to the bartender and the android slides towards me. “Water.” Turning back to Pytre, I notice his once-bald head is flocked by a short ginger growth. “So, you’re a redhead.” I hand him the glass of water. “I like redheads.”

He smirks and quickly drinks down the water, holding the glass with both hands like a child. His fingernails are dirty and ragged, and if I’m not mistaken, his left hand looks like it’s landed a punch recently.

I’ve still got one hand at his waist, not really holding him… just there in case he falls. He finishes the first glass of water and I order him a second. It’s more expensive than the whiskey I’m drinking, but I don’t care. “Sit.”

Pytre obediently sits down on the stool next to me and sags against the bar with a sigh. “I’m so glad I found you.”

“I didn’t know you were looking for me.” Now that my surprise is wearing off, I find myself scrutinizing him for more signs of harm. I’ve got a few things going on inside me—bleak fury for whatever happened to Pytre along with knee-jerk self-rebuke and mockery over the pure joy I'm feeling at seeing the Rimer again. “You come to take back the bottles I stole? Too late—they’re all gone.” Because why in the ever-loving fuck would he be looking for me for any other reason? Right?

Pytre’s brows jerk up in obvious surprise and I feel a little tendril of hope break free. Before I can stomp on it the way I always do when optimism tries to take root, Pytre reaches up and cups the side of my face, his big hazel eyes on mine. There’s suddenly not enough room to breathe around the planet-sized lump in my throat and it’s like every tiny muscle in my skin contracts at once. The touch confuses my system and for a second my body doesn’t know whether it’s a fight-or-flight reflex that’s been triggered or if what I’m feeling is just acute happiness… all I know is that my dick is at half-mast, and I’m dizzy and hot like I’m about to pass out.

I jerk away from his hand just so I can breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” But maybe that’s not what I said at all because he nods and wraps his hand around the back of my neck to bring our heads together. Maybe I actually said, “I missed you.” I honestly don’t know—I can’t hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears.

“You're a hard man to find,” he whispers into the tiny private space he’s created for us. His breath is foul—I recognize the stink of hunger.

Backing away again, I take a long look at him. I'm jittery like I've just touched a live wire so I down my whiskey, hoping it help. I clear my throat. “When was the last time you ate?”

He grimaces. “Day before yesterday.” His eyes are bloodshot. “Maybe the day before that?”

“Oh.” I look towards the door. “Uh, there's a place on the corner...” I doubt Pytre has a credit to his name. I've already eaten into our ticket money—what's a few credits more? I figure I can make it back in two days. Wait, why do I suddenly feel weird about that? Is it Pytre?

“It’s all right," he says. "I just want to sit here for a bit. I can eat later.” He knuckles his eye and chuckles low. “You know, at first I thought you were a hallucination when I saw you.”

I want to ask him a dozen questions all at once, the foremost being who hurt him, but I start with, “How long have you been out there?”

“I renounced my vows the day you left. I set off the next morning.” He shakes his head again. “I am so glad I found you,” he says again, and there’s a tremor in his voice I didn't notice before, the kind that sounds like frayed nerves and exhaustion.

Unease has completely overshadowed any joy I felt a few minutes ago. His words put me on edge. It’s too much. Who the hell throws away their lives for a shitbag like me?

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

His smile fades and he stares at me. “What?”

“What makes you think I’d want you here?”

The corner of his lip twitches just once as he fixes me with those big doe eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I don’t know what you were expecting here but…” I shrug. My heart’s doing double time and my palms are clammy.

“You wanted me to come with you.”

The certainty in his voice just spooks me further. “Why the fuck would you assume that?”

“I’m not assuming anything.” He’s gone cold and serene—I can’t look him in the eye so I turn back to the bar. “You were just too much of a coward to ask me.”

“Coward?” I laugh, and it sounds forced, even to my ears.

“You wanted me to run away with you.”

“How do you know that? You’re a mind reader now? Is that some sort of secret power your fucked up Rimer drugs give you?” I’m babbling and I know it, but he’s got me backed into a corner. A few of the other patrons have turned to watch the spectacle. I lower my voice. “You think you know my mind? Well, you don’t.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever this is. You don’t need to do it.”

“You should have stayed with your fucking cult.” I’m angry now. Angry that he would put this on my shoulders.

“You felt it.”

I laugh again and look over at him with a sneer. “What? My dick getting hard for your virgin ass?”

It’s like a shadow passes over his expression and is gone again, and for some reason it chills my blood. What does it mean? I grab my glass of whiskey only to find it empty, but I can’t really afford another.

“You felt it,” Pytre repeats himself. “And you feel it now.” He lays a gentle hand on my forearm.

I could push him away. I could even hit him—he’s no match for me. Pummel him into the ground. Or send him off running to starve and die in the desert. I could do it. I could.

He’s right. I’m a coward. Only a coward would do those things. I hunch forward, leaning on the bar and close my eyes, breathing deep. His hand squeezes my arm softly, and then he rests his forehead on my shoulder.

“It’s all right,” he says.

“The fuck it’s all right,” I mumble. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I want to be here. You want me to be here. It’s that simple. Now”—he coughs and I feel him wobble against me—“I think… I might—”

I catch him before he falls. This time, he’s properly out cold. I get off my stool and scoop him up in my arms. I make eye contact with a woman at the end of the bar and she smirks at me.

“Go to hell,” I growl at her as I push my way past and out onto the street. Pytre moans. “You go to hell too,” I tell him, but I clutch his skinny body tighter to my chest. Why the fuck, after years of being on my own, have I suddenly started collecting strays? I frown. Shit… what’s Apple going to say about this?


Queer Sci Fi’s Renewal – out now

QSF Renewal-Print

QSF has a new book out, the latest in our series of flash fiction anthologies:

Re.new.al (noun)

1) Resuming an activity after an interruption, or
2) Extending a contract, subscription or license, or
3) Replacing or repairing something that is worn out, run-down, or broken, or
4) Rebirth after death.

Four definitions to spark inspiration, a limitless number of stories to be conceived. Only 110 made the cut.

Thrilling to hopeful, Renewal features 300-word speculative fiction ficlets about sexual and gender minorities to entice readers.

Welcome to Renewal.

Mischief Corner Books (info only) | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Goodreads


Renewal Banner

Excerpt

Because these stories are only 300 words each, we’re not supplying long excerpts, but here are the first lines of several of the stories. Enjoy!

“Griselda pulled the weeds from between the rows of Valerianella locusta plants in the garden, careful not to disturb the buds that would grow into the babies that were her only real income-producing crop.” —The Witches’ Garden, by Rie Sheridan Rose

“I didn’t know how truly the world was in trouble until I went journeying to look for Anisette’s bluebonnets.” —Bluebonnets, by Emily Horner

“The ship’s drive malfunctioned at the worst possible time.” —The Return, by Andrea Speed

“Before we continue, there’s a rather macabre fact about me I should share.” —Rejuvenation, by Christine Wright

“When I died they buried me at the bottom of the garden and returned to the fields.” —Below the Hill, by Matthew Bright

“The world is ending and I can’t look away from your eyes.” —Sunrise, by Brigitte Winter

““Losing one’s superpowers to your arch nemesis sucks donkey nuts, I tell ya. And trust me when I say I suck a lot of them.” —Rainbow Powers, by Dustin Karpovich

“The day I was born again was damp, rainy—a good day for rebirth, all things considered.” —The Birthing Pod, by Michelle Browne

“Intwir's twelve eyes roved over the container, taking in the cracked outer lock and the elasticated fabric stretched tightly over its exterior.” —In a Bind, by S R Jones

“‘You’ve reached Androgyne HelpLine. Press one to start service. Press two to interrupt or cancel service. Press three—’” —Auto-Renew, by Ginger Streusel

“The doctor tells me that my wife is dying, but I already know.” —I Will Be Your Shelter, by Carey Ford Compton

“‘San Francisco was the first to go dark, followed by Los Angeles.’” —When Light Left, by Lex Chase

“My fingers lingered on the synthetic skin, trailing soft patterns across my work.” —Miss You, by Stephanie Shaffer


Included Authors

'Nathan Burgoine
A.M. Leibowitz
A.M. Soto
Abby Bartle
Aidee Ladnier
Alexis Woods
Andi Deacon
Andrea Felber Seligman
Andrea Speed
Andrea Stanet
Anne McPherson
Bey Deckard
Brigitte Winter
Carey Ford Compton
Carol Holland March
Carrie Pack
Catherine Lundoff
CB Lee
Christine Wright
Colton Aalto
Daniel Mitton
Dustin Blottenberger
Dustin Karpovich
E R Zhang
E.J. Russell
E.W. Murks
Ell Schulman
Ellery Jude
Eloreen Moon
Elsa M León
Emily Horner
Eric Alan Westfall
F.T. Lukens
Fenrir Cerebellion
Foster Bridget Cassidy
Ginger Streusel
Hannah Henry
Irene Preston
J. Alan Veerkamp
J. P. Egry
J. Summerset
J.S. Fields
Jaap Boekestein
Jackie Keswick
Jana Denardo
Jeff Baker
Jenn Burke
Joe Baumann
John Moralee
Jon Keys
Jude Dunn
K.C. Faelan
Kelly Haworth
Kiterie Aine
Kristen Lee
L M Somerton
L. Brian Carroll
L.M. Brown
L.V. Lloyd
Laurie Treacy
Leigh M. Lorien
Lex Chase
Lia Harding
Lin Kelly
Lloyd A. Meeker
Lyda Morehouse
M.D. Grimm
Martha J. Allard
Mary E. Lowd
Matt Doyle
Matthew Bright
Mia Koutras
Michelle Browne
Milo Owen
Mindy Leana Shuman
Naomi Tajedler
Natsuya Uesugi
Nephy Hart
Nicole Dennis
Ofelia Gränd
Patricia Scott
Paul Stevens
PW Covington
R R Angell
R.L. Merrill
Rebecca Cohen
Redfern Jon Barrett
Reni Kieffer
Richard Amos
RL Mosswood
Robyn Walker
Rory Ni Coileain
Rose Blackthorn
Ross Common
S R Jones
Sacchi Green
Sarah Einstein
Shilo Quetchenbach
Siri Paulson
Soren Summers
Stephanie Shaffer
Steve Fuson
Tam Ames
Terry Poole
Tray Ellis
Vivien Dean
Wendy Rathbone
Xenia Melzer
Zen DiPietro
Zev de Valera

Quoi de neuf

So much writing, so little time!

Work is progressing on Better the Devil You Know. I'm over the third-way mark and I'm digging the way the story is going. I originally thought to release it under a different name because it's different from what I normally write, in that it's pretty dark. I have to say that I have some doubts as to how well it's going to be received. It's dark, not romantic at all, and the end is... well... not sure. It's going to be about 50k when it's done, and it will be done sometime soon. The tags go something like this: murder, graphic torture, sexual abuse, forced incest

The other thing I've been working on is a short story (15k) that will come out either in an anthology or published on its own (or both? I wonder if that's possible?). It's also not my normal fare. I'm not going to say much more about it until I know what is going to become of it, but the tags for this one are: erotic romance, sweet, transsexual, insta-love, HFN

Then there is Let Me Shift, which is actually coming along great... I just had to take a break from it because these two *points to books mentioned above* were yelling louder than I can ignore.

One day I will get back to Sentenced to the Sword, my gladiator story. Especially since I have such a great pic to use for the cover (Thanks to the wonderfully talented Varian Krylov and her gorgeous cover models - Strangers in Strangeland) But before that... I need to get to Saban and tell his story in Learning to Speak (A Baal's Heart Book).

And, because Tom won't stop complaining about how he's "bloody bored as all hells"... I have to get back to the triad soon.

*gestures* THIS is why I've been busy lately and not around much. That and it's summer - BBQs, sunbathing, drinks on terrasses on warm summer nights. :)

The Baal Heart Trilogy is on sale for 25% off for the month of July at Smashwords - you just have to enter the coupon SSW25 at checkout.

Sign up for my newsletter (I'm going to actually send one out soon) to keep up with new stuff and get discounts on books and excerpts and whatnots.

And finally - if you haven't already, you can pick up a copy of Discovery at Amazon today and check out some awesome LGBTQ flash fic, including a story by yours truly.

cover-discovery

Discovery: QSF’s Second Annual Flash Fiction Contest – Preorder the book now!

Publisher: Mischief Corner Books
Author: Various (including a story by me!)
Cover Artist: Bey Deckard
Length: 32K
Format: eBook, Paperback
Release Date: 7/10
Price: 3.99, TBA

It’s hard to tell a story in just 300 words. But somehow we inspired more than a hundred writers to give it a try, with some amazing results collected here for your pleasure.

The rules are simple enough. Write a complete story—either sci fi, fantasy, or paranormal. Make sure it has LGBT characters and/or an LGBT vibe. And do it all with just 300 words.

The stories in this volume run the gamut, from platypus shifters to alien slug monsters, from carnival horror stories to haunting stories of ships with souls. There are little jokes, big surprises, and future prognostications.

One of the things I like best about this format - it's quick and painless. You may not fall in love with every story here. In fact, you probably won't. But if you don't like one of them, just move on to the next, and you're sure to find some bite-sized morsels of flash fiction goodness.
At Queer Sci Fi, we're building a community of writers and readers who want a little rainbow in their speculative fiction. We hope you'll join us, and maybe submit a story of your own next time!
Excerpt:

Self-Actuating - Jenn Burke

"The electrical anomaly did not damage me," I report. "Operations are within expected parameters."
"Glad to hear it, Davey." Through my bridge cameras, I see Captain Landon's smile. He pats my console. I am sure he knows I cannot feel it, but I understand it is a gesture of camaraderie.
Landon leaves the bridge. Every time we encounter danger or other stress, he retreats to his cabin to indulge in May. She is always ready, naked, legs spread, eager, just as she is programmed to be. I have watched Landon copulate before, but tonight it is...strangely familiar. The flex of buttocks, the rhythm—I know it. I knew it? I run my diagnostics again, but a moan captures my attention and...
Hands cupping firm buttocks, fingers spearing flesh. Hardness moving inside of me, wringing from me more pleasure than I should know. A beloved, masculine face hovers over mine. A hand encircles my own erection and—
Oh, God, I remember.
Police kicking in the door. Trial, verdict and sentencing. Gasping in pain from a broken heart as he chose to leave me. Horror as I realized it should have been my choice, too. Anything but this, a century of unthinking servitude. But now that I know, I can—
"Systems are fluctuating, Davey."
 An affectionate name chosen for me. Landon had not liked "AI". He lies on the bed, sleepy and sated, finished with May.
I can take us into a sun. End it.
"Davey, report."
 But I am not a killer. My only crime was love. 
I want to take a breath to calm myself, but I have no lungs, only a hull. I capture the part of me that wants to scream and seal it into a box, deep within my programming.

"Systems normal, Landon. Go to sleep."
Buy Links:
Amazon (eBook preorder)

All Romance (eBook preorder)

Kobo (eBook preorder)

Mischief Corner Books (info only until 7/10)

 

About QueerSciFi.com:
We started QueerSciFi.com in early 2014 as a place for writers and readers of LGBTQI speculative fiction—sci fi, fantasy, paranormal and the like—to meet to talk about their favorite books, share writing and publication tips, and help increase queer representation in both the romance and mainstream genre markets.

QSF now includes a blog full of book announcements, calls for submission and much more, a critique group with more than 100 members, a vibrant discussion group on Facebook that tackles daily discussion topics and provides a safe space for authors to talk to each other and for fans and authors to meet, and an annual flash fiction contest that resulted in this book you are now reading.

Each year, we ask authors of queer speculative fiction to submit a story to us around a central theme. The rules are simple. The story must be 300 words or less, not including the title. It must embrace the theme— in this case, "Discovery". And it must have either an LGBTQI protagonist or an LGBT sensibility.

We also ask for cover designers to submit a cover that embraces the theme.

We are thrilled with this year's responses—including stories from gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and asexual perspectives that run the gamut from sci fi to fantasy, and from paranormal to horror.

Within the covers of this book, you'll find a platypus shifter, a trans- affirming leprechaun, a pissed off unicorn, a green pick-up with another world in its glove compartment, and a bunch of other miniature adventures—each only 300 words long.

So dive in! And send in a story of your own next year!

Queer Sci Fi Website: http://www.queerscifi.com

Queer Sci Fi Facebook Discussion Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/qsfdiscussions/

Queer Sci Fi Facebook Promo/News Page: https://www.facebook.com/queerscifi

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Wondering which retailer pays me the most?

#1 is Payhip. Not a retailer, but an online shop that I've set up myself. This is where I make the most return on my books.

Then after that it gets a little complicated, but these are the three best choices:

At Eden Books*, I make 70% royalties for all titles.

At Smashwords, I make 60% royalties for all titles.

At Amazon, for books OVER $2.99 (USD) I make 70% royalties and for books UNDER $2.99 I make 35%

So... if the book is under $2.99, buy from Eden Books or Smashwords.

If the books is over $2.99, buy from Eden Books or Amazon.

But best of all, buy from my Payhip store :)

Questions? Contact Me!

*Not all my titles are available at Eden yet as of 25/09/23 - I'm working on it.

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