My boyfriend and my boyfriend’s clone are fucking slowly on the couch in our apartment. I’ve been coding at my desk in the living room all morning, but when my boyfriend came home an hour ago with the clone I said I didn’t mind, if I could watch. Every so often they move together, and my boyfriend’s clone says in my boyfriend’s voice, “Oh, Miguel.” I’m not sure what my boyfriend calls his clone.

–read “Collectors” in Beecher’s Magazine, Issue 7, Spring 2017

She found them on the rack at Marshalls after Stephen teased her about wearing granny panties. Who cares about the underwear when they’re off and there’s a naked woman in the bedroom, Lex had thought, and wished she had said…

–read “omen Underwear” at Great Jones Street, February 2017

If we do the magic wrong, Lucy, we won’t know until our bodies fail and there’s nothing we can do to go back. … We lie down together in the grass, the damp blades tickling our legs below the hems of our pleated skirts, our hands clasped, and close our eyes, and let our hearts slow until they beat no more…

–read “Territory” in PodCastle, February 2016

You’ve heard going chimera is addictive. You’ve never done any hard drugs, so you’re not afraid of what this means. The “Free Consultations” sign on the clinic has drawn you in, not for the first time. You have the money for the first operation–savings you were going to put toward an apartment just for you and him–and the time: your whole life. You push open the door.

–read “Chimeras” in Escape Pod, February 2015

Sia breaks the teens from her strain into the sterile examination room with the code she took off the doctor’s exo. She has to swipe her suitsleeve over the receiver several times; the gummy material sticks and interferes with the read. If the code has changed, it’ll be months before they can organize another party. They’ve all just had their immuno-boosters and tests. If someone catches them, they might not ever get the chance again.

–read “Inter-Exo” in Terraform, February 2015