And there will be a followup volume of my vanilla stories coming up after that. These will both be released by my new publishing venture, Queen of Swords Press (website still being finalized). You can read more about Queen of Swords here, as well as about Other Me's new short story collection Out of This World: Queer Speculative Fiction Stories.
So what's in Knife's Edge? Some of my previously published work, as well as some new work and some work that's never been collected before.
Here's the Table of Contents and a short excerpt:
Reunion at St. Mary’s
On the Spanish Main
Arachne
The Hands of a Princess
El Tigre
Polar Vortex
An Incident in Whitechapel
Planet 10
Cowgirls and Science
D is for Denial
Wage Slave
Lovely Rita, Meter Maid
Except from "Reunion at St. Mary's" -
Bridget Marie Riordan O’Halloran was depressed. It
wasn’t so much that work was insanely stressful, though that was part of it. Or
that Vic and all her friends seemed to have forgotten her birthday, though that
didn’t help. It was the clipping from the parish newspaper, sent courtesy of
her mother, that put her over the edge. Sister Agnes Mercy Byrnes had been
taken up to Heaven, or so it said.
From what Bridget remembered of her, she was more
likely to be torturing the Devil below than hovering on a cloud above but where
she was didn’t matter so much as the fact that she was gone. It was the passing
of an era. Sister Agnes had been the terror, among other things, of Bridget’s
high school years. It was hard to forget the hours she spent over the years
masturbating over her memories of the spanking the nun had once given her in
the principal’s office. Imagining those firm hands on her young flesh gave her
a thrill even now. She pictured Sister Agnes going even further and pulling
down her white virginal panties and…Vic walked in a moment later to find her
with her hand between her legs.
“Hi sweetie. Ooh, that
looks like fun. What triggered this?” Vic grabbed the little clipping as
Bridget jerked her hand out of her pants. Vic gave her a look of pure
disbelief. “You’re jilling off to Sister Agnes’ obituary?”
Bridget turned bright red
and tried to come up with a good explanation. Then she gave up and went on the
attack instead. “You forgot my birthday! Some girlfriend you are.” She crossed
her arms over her chest to hide the nipples poking through her shirt. Sister
Agnes’ hands had been pretty amazing in that last fantasy.
“I knew you were going to say that,” Vic
grinned triumphantly as she dropped onto the couch. She ran one hand down
Bridget’s thigh with a possessive pressure that never failed to make her pay
attention. “I’ve got a little surprise for you, babe. Kind of appropriate too,
given your new ghoulish hobby. We’re going to your tenth high school reunion.
My treat.”
Bridget’s jaw dropped. No
way. Sister Julia and Father Williams would run them out of Sacred Heart parish
at the head of a torch-wielding mob. Vic just didn’t understand how things worked
at parochial school. But before she could say a word, Vic had her in a liplock
that soon turned to other things. Once Vic was holding Bridget down and
pounding her fist into her wet and desperate pussy, going home for the reunion
sounded just fine. Besides, it was two months away; she had plenty of time to
change Vic’s mind.
But somehow, they never got around to talking
about it. Every time she tried, Vic was too busy or was all over her so she
gave up, resigning herself to the trip from hell. It would be even worse if
they ended up staying with her parents. She just hoped her mother wouldn’t say
the rosary over them when she thought they were sleeping again.
Despite all her worries,
she did start to wonder if some of her old friends would be there. Monica came
out after graduation. That was inevitable. If James Dean was ever reincarnated
as a Catholic high school girl, Monica was it. Then there was Mary Eileen.
She’d never forget that one sleepover party where they all decided to practice
kissing. From what she could remember, Mary Eileen wanted to practice a few
other things too, but they’d all been too scared to try them. As for the rest
of the girls who ran around with them, well if Bridget knew her budding Dykes
on Bikes chapter, they were it by now.
By the time they got
ready to leave town, Bridget was pretty much resigned to the trip. It made it
easier that Vic was so very obviously up to something. That was usually a good
thing. Bridget even resisted taking a peek in the toy bag when she loaded it in
the car. No point in spoiling the surprise, whatever it was. At least they were
staying at a hotel and not her parent’s, so no matter what, there was a bright
side.
Vic
wasn’t letting anything slip, though. She was too tired for sex in the hotel
they stopped at halfway there, which was weird, and she wasn’t talking much
during the drive, which was weirder. Bridget was getting antsy and it brought
out the pushy bottom in her. She wheedled, she whined, she sulked; anything to
get Vic to do something with or to her. Anything at all. She squirmed against
the fabric of the car seat imagining a few of those things. But for the first time in years, Vic wasn’t
going for it. She smiled when Bridget pouted and stonewalled when she whined
until her girlfriend thought she’d go nuts before they got there. End of Excerpt
