Best of Crossed Genres Year One: Science Fiction & Fantasy with a Twist, 2010
Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica V10, 2011
The Strangler Fig (read it here)
“We paparazzi exist on the margins, fighting each other over scraps of humanity. We’re punched and kicked, flipped off, wished dead. The masses spit on us but buy the snaps we take, starving for more. We hound the perimeters, hated, but without us, the fiction falls apart. We get top dollar for the shot of stars with their clothes off, not their makeup on. We want the wrinkle, the wart, not the de la Renta. You might call me a stalker—obsessed, dangerous—except that it’s my job to follow her.”
Read the Tangent Online Review of Crossed Genres Year One
Read the Innsmouth Free Press Review of Crossed Genres Year One
Read the Associated Content Review of Crossed Genres Year One
South Dakota Review V47:1, 2009
Immobile
“Heat smokes up through the Black Hills, rising from the exhaust pipes of thousands of motorcycles. Chain-driven engines toil in low gear as they parade to the unfinished Crazy Horse monument. The earth quakes as mighty pistons punch shockwaves down the cracked road. Why has this mob of outcasts, degenerates, and desecrators of innocence invaded South Dakota? (Madge has seen several TV docu-dramas about their terrorist tendencies.) The lone biker says, ‘Don’t be afraid, ma’am. I may look nasty, but I’m really an orthodontist from Dubuque. We’re the only ones who can afford Harleys, anymore.’”
Zyzzyva #75, winter 2005
Best of Best American Erotica 15th Anniversary Edition, 2008
Pinkie
“Tiny timber wasn’t what I expected. This guy had a heavy-booted, open-kneed stride that warned of a boulder in the center lane. He walked through the bar with his pelvis thrust forward and shoulders tipped back, as if to keep from toppling forwards from the staggering weight of the anvil crammed in his crotch. He offered me a Long Neck and a grin, and I needed no convincing to unleash the mastiff barking behind his fly. Now I’d dated tons of guys who’d measured their manhood, but turns out this guy would have to go metric, using that centimeter side of the ruler I never bothered with.”
Versal V6, 2008
Spat, Spud, Spatula, Stud
“While wrapping presents with environmentally-friendly newsprint, Girlfriend came across the local liberal weekly’s list of Ten Rules for Boyfriends. Number one rule: “Don’t wear your girlfriend’s underwear.” A revelation for her, this plague of boyfriends prancing secretly in Victoria’s Secret. Boyfriend had chosen ruffled pink pantaloons for the dress-up The David refrigerator magnet. Was his choice of doll couture a hint she’d failed to get? As if navigating modern relationships wasn’t difficult enough without thong-swapping to consider. They haven’t even solved the housekeeping-equity problem, much less teddy-equity.”
The Means V12, 2006
Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica V7, 2008
Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow
“Although most expecting women can boff with abandon in between barfing and bathroom visits, refraining is advisable with Lucy’s history of pregnancy losses. Raised in the post-feminist era, she believed that her body was her own to operate as she saw fit. But Dr. Frank orders the protection of Lucy’s vaginal domain like her father issuing curfew twenty years ago, hitting her with the sledgehammer realization that emancipation was a deception. Waves of peace and joy over impending motherhood battle breakers of resentful lust inside her, her Christmas-mind duking it out with her WWF groin.”
Chiron Review #81, winter 2005
Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica V6, 2006
Fairy Tail
“You thought The Little Mermaid had it bad, wanting feet instead of flippers, but I was born the wrong species and the wrong sex. Not only half piscine, half mammalian, but boy body, girl desires. A damn guppy with a mustache instead of mammary glands. Half vertebrate class Osteichthyes and wholly male. Could’ve been worse, I know. Could’ve been of the superclass Agnatha, the jawless fishes. (They’re not called hagfish for nothing.)At least guys on land could express themselves. Cologne, natty slacks, a flamboyant cravat. Me, I was perennially naked, half epidermis, half scales.”
Thou Shalt Not: Stories of Dark Crime & Horror, 2006
Blood Sacrifice
“The Bloody Mary splotched Genevieve’s preservative-treated wedding gown, yanked after all these years from its sealed box. She itched, envisioning the chemicals preserving her, mummy-like. The simple dress now hung on her. She looked like a skeleton draped in a sheet, perfect for an All Hallows Day voodoo ritual. Maybe they’d mistake her for the returning dead. Sacrifice to her. Bury her. Genevieve touched her belly. A hard shape protruded beneath the satin of her skirt, reminiscent of the face of a child at play behind a blowsy curtain.”
Literary Mama, 2006
The Dogs of Sayulita (read it here)
“As they bounce and jolt through the rundown town, Emma focuses on the dogs of Sayulita. Odd Chihuahua mixes curl up beside strange Great Dane-like creatures. No breed segregation here. Rampant fornication had produced abundant, bizarre results. What strikes Emma, though, is not so much the canine quantity and variety, but the balls. Countless swollen nuts sway between bony legs. Starving pooches haul ripe appendages, like stoic tramps dragging their bulging rucksacks. Emma is surrounded by an army of unsnipped doggie testicles. The obscene display of unchecked gonads transfixes her.”
Jennifer D. Munro 