Circlet Press: Welcome to Circlet 2.0

Erotiki
by Gayle C. Straun
“I don’t think I get it. Who’s this supposed to be?”
“It’s my rendering of Tiki, the first man in Polynesian mythology. This is supposed to be the moment when his wife-to-be rises from the pool to meet him.”
“You’re going to have to back up a bit. I don’t know anything about this [...]

Hard Luck
by Gayle C. Straun
“Guess I should have known you’d turn up,” she said.
“That’s me,” I said. “A bad penny, through and through.”
She seemed to think about this for a moment, giving me that sweet critical eye over the top of her glasses, just like every teacher I had a crush on in grade school. [...]

Nemesis
by Gayle C. Straun
I stand just a few steps away from the edge of the cliff, my old fear of heights clutching at my heart. Nemesis Valley below is still its deathsome self. Barren, its ancient lifelessness a relic of history—the accomplishment of mankind, laid out in shimmering splendor.
I hear Zoë walking toward me. Without [...]

The Origin of Conscientiousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Grind
by Gayle C. Straun
He knows her through sound:
When he presses deep into her early on, she tenses, her throat tightening on a groan just enough to give it a higher pitch, enough to tell him that she is not yet ready. And so he gives [...]

Ragnarok
by Gayle C. Straun
They breathed their heavy flames upon each other, these two sons of Muspel, their bodies the incarnation of fire—the heat of the inner earth and the power of volcanoes robed in muscle and bone and given wisdom of which even the gods were often jealous. They sighed furiously with wanting as their [...]

Paradox
by Gayle C. Straun
I lean in to kiss her, and as our lips each part and our tongue tips find each other for the first and second time, I remember what she is thinking. She is wondering what someone would think if they saw us together, her all of eighteen and me that age perhaps [...]

Resistance
by Gayle C. Straun
“You have one hour,” the guard says as he lets me in the room, leering at me. I know he will be watching the recording with his friends later, but I don’t care. I slip him his bribe, and the door closes behind me.
Keelie is standing there by the bed. At first [...]

Schröedinger’s Puss
by Gayle C. Straun
I keep my eyes upon him, running my hand through his blonde, tousled head of hair, as he kisses his way down my belly, down to that spot between my legs already sticky and glistening, and he’s there, his tongue stirring through the folds of my flesh, stirring him and me. [...]