“Serenading a Siren” – My Story Published in January Ember Press’ Not a Phase Anthology

Read time: 2 mins.

I am thrilled to announce my short story, “Serenading a Siren,” was just published in Not a Phase: An Ace Anthology from January Ember Press. Published just in time for Asexual (Ace) Awareness Week, the anthology features both fiction and non-fiction stories of characters on the ace spectrum (meaning they experience little or no sexual attraction). My submission falls into the fantasy category. Writing this piece for the anthology provided a meaningful opportunity to artistically express a part of myself I treasure, and I am honored to share this story with the world alongside other authors with similar experiences.

Please enjoy the short excerpt below, and hurry to check out the rest of the anthology!

Alexia observed a thin stream of blood running down Zelda’s jaw. “You had fun with the sailors, I see.”

Zelda smirked. “So you agree it’s fun and still won’t join me?”

Alexia rolled her eyes. She didn’t stop chiseling. “You know what I mean. Fun for you.”

“Sure, Sis.”

Zelda took a short break before she started needling again.

“I tried singing one of your songs today.”

Alexia subtly turned her eyes toward Zelda.

Zelda made a smug face and waited for Alexia to ask.

“Well?”

“It pulled quite a few sailors overboard. They fell asleep from sheer boredom and toppled over.”

Alexia started chiseling harder.

Zelda made no effort to mask her laughter. “You’re determined to keep believing those idiots actually hear what sirens sing, aren’t you? It’s our appearance, our attention, and their own loneliness that draw them in.”

“Plus a hint of hypnotic magic.”

“Exactly! It’s why the basic siren song doesn’t bother with words. Sailors would leap off their ships if we sang them a math book. Good thing, too, with the nonsense you write.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Take that maudlin dirge you wrote last New Years. ‘I cry for the ships that burn upon the oily sea, and the poisoned fish that roast beneath their hulls.’ What sailor wants to hear that?”

“I didn’t write that for sailors. I wrote it to process what I felt. Anyway, why would you want to use my songs if words don’t matter?”

“Why write songs you don’t want anyone to hear? I thought you’d appreciate me dragging your creations into daylight.”

Alexia held the chisel toward Zelda like a knife. “We have different definitions of daylight. I pick who I share my lyrics with, alright?”

“Alright!” Zelda held up her hands the way a hostage would. “Seems like a lot of wasted effort, but alright. I wouldn’t mind except you never do pick anyone.”

Alexia ignored that and started chiseling again.