The Magician's Confession
Wren says she is forty-four years old, out loud, on the drive up, because Tobias has asked her twice to stop calling herself "an aging…
Velvet Transit
Amateur fiction writer in Mittenwald, Germany, keeping company with an opinionated black cat and dry gin and tonic on weekends. My wheelhouse is Erotic Horror, told in third-person present tense in a voice that is warm and a little breathless. Always happy to hear from readers who enjoy a real plot alongside the heat. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
Get a note when Velvet Transit publishes something new.
Stories by Velvet Transit
The Rules We Broke
The gallery smells like turpentine and white paint, and Tiff walks the long floor alone at seven, tapping her pen against a clipboard she…
The Gratitude Protocol
Marcia had been crouched behind the row of filing cabinets for eleven minutes when her left leg started to cramp.
Trusting the Fall
Magnus locked the door behind them and stood there a second with his hand still on the bolt.
Submission Saved Us
*This one's for anyone who's ever felt like desire got lost in the laundry.
The Florist's Lesson
The iron gate of the rental had roses worked into the bars.