A Queer Anthology Volume 1
A queer Anthology that embraces the romantic life and happy ever afters of drag queens navigating the LGBT landscape. All stories are written by Own Voice gay authors! From small towns to big cities, drag queens are the heart of the gayborhoods they belong to. Stories by Shane K Morton, Blake Allwood, Jole Cannon, Kelvin Young, J. Scott Coatsworth, Kristian Parker, Brent Archer and M.D. Neu.
Miz Fortune's Lonely Hearts Salon by J. Scott CoatsworthChester Carlson is a lonely late-middle-age accountant who lost his husband a couple years earlier and has resigned himself to being alone. He has als discovered that he can see glimpses of other people's romantic futures, and has opened up a dating advice salon in drag as Miz Faymin Fortune. Then one day, Dixon Murdock walks through her door, and everything he thought he knew about life, aging, and romance gets thrown out the door.
This was his favorite part of the night, when he shed his timid accountant personality to be someone strong and in control, something like the man he’d been before, with Andrew. Confident. Certain. Spontaneous.
He sighed, closing his eyes with their false eyelashes and clutching his tube of slut-red lipstick in his sweaty hands. If only you could see me now, babe.
His strange visions had started after Andrew’s death. Little flashes over other people’s heads that made him think—at first—that he was having a stroke.
Put on the lipstick with practiced ease, puckering his lips to spread it evenly.
At first, he’d thought he was losing his mind—the result of the twin stresses of a job he hated and a life that had suddenly gone empty of all color and meaning.
READ MORESlip on the wig and fasten it into place, then drape the curls around to frame his face in the most flattering way possible.
Then he’d seen one of his visions come true—Max from work had met the girl of his dreams, and when Chester met her, her face sent chills down his spine. He’d seen that visage dancing over Max’s head a month before.
Acrylic nails, blood-red, pressed against each of his own, rounded and sharp, like talons.
It was a sign. Maybe from Andrew himself. He, Chester Carlson, was meant to help others in ways that went far beyond taxes and accounting.
A ruby-red ring and some brass bangles on his right arm to complete the effect.
He sat back to admire the results of his labors, spreading his fingers and waving his hand in the air to admire the glitter of jewelry. He’d created Faye as a way to escape the pain, and she had taken on a life of her own. Her lips spread wide in thrilled anticipation.
“Miz Fortune has arrived.”
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