Add Magic to Taste

Theresa Alef, I. A. Ashcroft, Willa Blythe, Scarlett Gale, Lacey Hays, A. L. Heard, T. S. Knight, Tris Lawrence, Beth Lumen, Kristi Mae, Puck Malamud, Jo Mathieson, Maggie Page, Alex Ransom, Em Rowntree, Shea Sullivan, Florence Vale, Jessica Black, Lex T. Lindsay, Nina Waters

Description

For Add Magic to Taste, 20 authors have come together to produce new, original short stories uniting four of our absolute favorite themes: queer relationships, fluff, magic, and coffee shops! Our diverse writers have created an even more diverse collection of stories guaranteed to sweeten your coffee and warm your tart.
Sea Salt and Caramel by Shea Sullivan
Unusual Blends by Scarlett Gale
The Tasty Crumpet by A. L. Heard
Bånd by Florence Vale
A Family Thing by Jessica Black
Anywhere, Everywhere, Forever by Theresa Alef
The Magic Kin Know by Lacey Hays
Herald of Love by Maggie Page
Knishes and Noshes by Nina Waters
Harmony by I. A. Ashcroft
Confluence by Puck Malamud
Flowers Bloom Even Then by Alex Ransom
Breaking Bread by Beth Lumen
Rain and Moonligh by Lex T. Lindsay
Tomb Many Cooks by Em Rowntree
Dreaming of Pines by Tris Lawrence
Something in the Water by Willa Blythe
The Ballad of Yggdrasil by Kristi Mae
In Like Flynn by Jo Mathieson
A Leap Worth Taking by T. S. Knight
Backers
About Duck Prints Press LLC

Sujets

• Fantasy
• Fiction
• Romance
• Contemporary
• General
• General officer
• Contemporary history
• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• LGBTQ+

Informations

• Publié par: Duck Prints Press LLC
• Date de parution: 15 décembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781946472090
• Langue: English

Extrait

Add Magic to Taste
A Spellbinding (and Scrumptious!) Collection of Heartwarming Queer Stories
 

Duck Prints Press, LLC
Schenectady, NY
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from the publisher and the story author. Reviews, blog posts, articles, etc., may use short quotes under “fair use” rules.
The stories in this anthology are works of fi ction. The characters and events portrayed are a product of the authors’ imaginations. Businesses, places, and incidents pulled from the real world or history are used in a fi ctional manner. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.
Add Magic to Taste © 2021, Duck Prints Press LLC
“Anywhere, Everywhere, Forever” © 2021 Theresa Alef
“Harmony” © 2021 I. A. Ashcroft
“A Family Thing” © 2021 Jessica Black
“Something in the Water” © 2021 Willa Blythe
“Unusual Blends” © 2021 Scarlett Gale
“The Magic Kin Know” © 2021 Lacey Hays
“The Tasty Crumpet” © 2021 A. L. Heard
“A Leap Worth Taking” © 2021 T. S. Knight
“Dreaming of Pines” © 2021 Tris Lawrence
“Rain and Moonlight” © 2021 Lex T. Lindsay
“Breaking Bread” © 2021 Beth Lumen
“The Ballad of Yggdrasil” © 2021 Kristi Mae
“Con f luence” © 2021 Puck Malamud
“In Like Flynn” © 2021 Jo Mathieson
“Herald of Love” © 2021 Maggie Page
“Flowers Bloom Even Then” © 2021 Alex Ransom
“Tomb Many Cooks” © 2021 Em Rowntree
“Sea Salt and Caramel” © 2021 Shea Sullivan
“Bånd” © 2021 Florence Vale
“Knishes and Noshes” © 2021 Nina Waters
Front and back cover art © 2021 Liz Lee Illustration
Inset art piece © 2021 Joshua Beeking
Edited by A. L. Heard, Nina Waters, and A. Reilly.
Print manuscript formatting by Hermit Writes.
E-book formatting by Nina Waters.
Published by Duck Prints Press, LLC
Schenectady, New York
duckprintspress.com
ISBN: 978-1-946472-08-3 ( P aperback)
ISBN: 978-1-946472-09-0 (ePub)
ISBN: 978-1-946472-10-6 (Mobi)
ISBN: 978-1-946472-20-5 (PDF)
 
Dedicated to everyone who made this anthology possible.
 
Here’s to my online friends and all of the stories we’ve told across multiple worlds over the years. May we tell many more in the years to come!
 
To the lovely person who made a dedication to the audience. Hopefully someone has, or I’ll look kinda silly. But if not, then to you, dear reader. May you always fi nd the magic in your spice rack.
 
To Taylor and Danni and Alex and Case, and all gendersquiggly folx, that we can see and write and be ourselves in every world we love.
 
Table of Contents
Sea Salt and Caramel by Shea Sullivan
Unusual Blends by Scarlett Gale
The Tasty Crumpet by A. L. Heard
Bånd by Florence Vale
A Family Thing by Jessica Black
Anywhere, Everywhere, Forever by Theresa Alef
The Magic Kin Know by Lacey Hays
Herald of Love by Maggie Page
Knishes and Noshes by Nina Waters
Harmony by I. A. Ashcroft
Confluence by Puck Malamud
Flowers Bloom Even Then by Alex Ransom
Breaking Bread by Beth Lumen
Rain and Moonligh t by Lex T. Lindsay
Tomb Many Cooks by Em Rowntree
Dreaming of Pines by Tris Lawrence
Something in the Water by Willa Blythe
The Ballad of Yggdrasil by Kristi Mae
In Like Flynn by Jo Mathieson
A Leap Worth Taking by T. S. Knight

 
Sea Salt and Caramel
By Shea Sullivan
Tags: animal transformation, bipoc character, the beach, first kiss, interspecies romance, manta ray shifter, meet cute, mlm, new england, octopus shifter, pov third person limited, present tense, united states of america, unreliable narrator
*
One of the few advantages Kyle has, being the only Amp in town, is that he’s got the bathhouse to himself in the aftermath.
He’s been shedding his skin for a decade, now, Sunday through Thursday, 1 p.m. sharp. Every single time, it hurts . Not just his thick, dry skin, or the sudden limitations of bones and gravity. There’s pain in the harshness of the fi sh sellers’ calls on the dock above him, the piercing screams of the gulls, the light that scalds through the window.
The minutes it takes to recover feel like an eternity, and even then his legs are weak. They’re the last part of his body to acclimate; until they do, they’re ready to split back into tentacles and drag him back into the ocean.
The streets are still festooned with blue-striped f lags and tropical-ocean-themed balloons. Clearly, everyone thoroughly enjoyed the Treaty Day celebrations. Everyone but Kyle, anyway. He’d had the holiday off, but it was hard to celebrate with his family. They brought him crabs from the farm, pulled him out of his den to play, surprised him with gifts of kelp and urchins for his garden, and it all felt like a lie.
They still think he’s some sort of hero because he was with the Amp delegation when they negotiated the Treaty. They think he’s important Above because providing food Below is so prestigious. Nothing he says can convince them otherwise.
But the delegation he trained with six years ago moved on to more important diplomatic work without him, and his “vital role” in food provision is actually second shift as a barista at Opal’s Café, so…
Kyle’s irritation is more than the typical residue of the shed as he walks into town to do the world-saving work of stocking baked goods and steaming milk for lattes.
The grating of skateboard wheels stokes his anger into a tsunami, dark and crushing, as he emerges from the cross street. “Hey!” he yells, his dark, human skin screaming a warning yellow and making the cobalt around his eyes and mouth glow. “Can’t you read? No skateboarding!” The scarf around his neck—the skin he sheds every day to come to this ridiculous job—ripples with warning patterns triggered by the adrenaline rush as he pins the culprit with his black-eyed gaze. He thrusts out his hand to point at the wooden sign on the coffee shop wall:
NO L OITERING , L ITTERING , S HIFTING , S KATEBOARDING , H IGH M AGIC
His anger drains away as he actually looks at the skateboarder. He’d expected a punk kid, but this boarder is Kyle’s age, as thin as Kyle is stocky, and he moves on the board like he was born there. He f lashes silver-quick along the packed earth like a porpoise riding the surf, skids along the stone curb, then f lips the board with one foot as he goes airborne, lands lightly, and spins to a halt. Finally, he turns to give Kyle his attention as he levers the board into his waiting hand. His face is nearly as dark as Kyle’s, f lushed ruddy with exertion. He grins broadly, but it wilts into a sheepish smile under Kyle’s glare.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was in the groove.” He taps the board on the ground. “I just got it; it’s been forever since I rode.”
Kyle swallows. His human skin has gone darker, calmer, but the skin around his neck is now working through a mortifying courtship display. He wishes desperately he’d stayed in his den this morning.
“Yeah,” he manages. “Good. Don’t let Opal catch you out here. She hoards those.” He nods at the board and gestures at the eaves of the shop, then forces himself into his curated “leave me alone” posture.
The boarder’s eyes f lick up and widen when he sees Opal’s con fi scated boards layered over each other like shingles. His knuckles go white as he grips his board tightly.
“Thanks,” the boarder says. “I appreciate the heads-up. Guess I’ll stick to the boardwalk.” He steps forward and sticks out his hand. “I’m Clovis.”
Kyle freezes, staring at Clovis’s hand for a long moment before taking it. The taste is immediate—not as strong as it would be if he were wearing his true skin, but still striking and intimate.
Kelp. Salt. Home .
“I … I’m Kyle,” he says fi nally, dropping Clovis’s hand.
He’s still reeling when Clovis opens the door for him with a sweeping “after you” gesture, then follows him inside.
Kyle knows, in his bones, in his skin, in his blood, there’s something different about Clovis. And Clovis—as far as Kyle can tell, Clovis is blissfully, frustratingly, completely unaware.
*
Kyle doles out change and bares his teeth in a facsimile of a smile before looking up to greet the next customer.
His smile falters; the skin around his neck ripples blue and green. “Clovis.”
“Hi, Kyle.” Clovis’s smile curves wide, indenting dimples into his dark cheeks and nearly hiding his eyes. It’s more natural and captivating than any facial con fi guration Kyle has ever managed.
“Hey. What can I get you?” he asks as he tries to cover his skin’s latest display.
Clovis scans the board. “What do you recommend?”
“Uh.” The more Kyle grasps for a reply, the more his mind goes blank. “The sea-salt caramel latte? That’s the one I like.”
Clovis tips his head in consideration. “Yeah? Awesome. Make it a big one!”
“You got it.” Kyle puts in the order. “Three- fi fty.”
Clovis hands the coins over and throws another in the tip jar as Kyle points down the counter to where Vestain is handing out drinks.
“Thanks.” Clovis waves.
Kyle nods and takes a deep breath, turning to help the next customer.
At the end of their shift, Vestain hands him a latte in his favorite mug.
“What’s this?”
“Your friend bought it for you. He asked me to deliver it when you were done for the day. ‘A “thank you” for the recommendation,’ he said. It seems it made an impression.” Vestain’s zen smile carries a hint of humor.
“Oh.” Kyle says.
Your friend.
“Thanks.”
*
Kyle doesn’t make friends Above, and he certainly doesn’t go out after work. But when Clovis asks, it doesn’t feel like a choice, it feels inevitable.
Like the push-pull of the tide.
“Why skateboarding?” Kyle asks as Clovis rolls up beside him, returning from a series of tricks along the boardwalk. The air is heavy with humidity and the smell of the ocean, and for once Kyle isn’t desperate to pull his skin on and slip back into the water.
“Why not?” Clovis shrugs. “It feels good. It can be easy, just the smooth ride of the road, or challenging,