HeyJaredHouse of Regina Quinn
Sapphic fiction serialized twice weekly, plus essays on queer life and literature
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Aug 10, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 6, 2026
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Room For The Rest of Your Life (opens the original)
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Jaguars and Bread Cars - Chapter 45 of Safeguarding Élisabeth Moreau (opens the original)
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By the time Rafaela had laced her boots, it was nearly midday. She and Élisabeth had said little to each other.Julien had checked Rafaela’s ankle before they came downstairs. After two prods that made her want to break his fingers, he had declared it good enough for the drive.The morning had turned mild for once, sunlight cutting thin and gold through the bare oaks instead of the frost that had clung to the grounds all week. After breakfast, she'd stood at the kitchen window, using the light as
Goodnight, Élisabeth - Chapter 44 (opens the original)
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Rafaela woke to light pressing through the gap in the curtains. She rarely slept past dawn. But last night she had lain awake, replaying the fire and Élisabeth’s breath against her cheek. How long had she stared at the dark before her body finally gave out? She couldn't remember.She blinked at the ceiling, orienting herself. For a few seconds she lay still. Her ankle throbbed when she shifted, and the scrape on her palm tightened under the bandage. She scrubbed a hand over her face and caught th
A Very Rude Deer - Chapter 43 (opens the original)
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Élisabeth could not have said how long they stayed there. The world had narrowed to the woman clinging to her, to damp hair beneath her fingers, and to the rise and fall of Rafaela’s breathing.Her hand kept moving over Rafaela’s back. The garden was dark around them, the siren long silent. The cold was forgotten. She had stopped thinking about anything except the solid warmth of Rafaela in her arms.Élisabeth felt the last of the shudders leaving Rafaela's body like water running out of a tide. H
Penny for Your Thoughts - Chapter 42 (opens the original)
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Julien had wheeled her as far as the rose trellis before he ran out of patience with her and did what he always did eventually.He’d sat the stone bench beside her chair, produced a half-finished sock from his coat pocket, and begun knitting with aggressive concentration."You know," he said, tucking the blanket more firmly around her knees, "starving yourself of daylight was not part of the recovery plan we discussed.""I've had daylight. I have a window.""What is a window if not a very depressing
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