The submission call was for up to five short stories, each between 100 and 500 words long. I submitted two and one was accepted.
Here’s an excerpt. Warning: it’s a bit “spicy”:
“Not this solstice, you wretched misogynist.” Litha, the Earth Mother, his stolen antlers growing tall and wild from her forehead, and the sides of her bronze, feral mane, looked up at his viral, sinewy body writhing in the flames. For an instant, his erection, being consumed by the conflagration as he burned on the pyre, excited her. His cries and undulations as he slowly turned to ash, so like their nights of hot passion. Unbidden, she felt hidden desire moisten her inner thighs.
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