You never know how you’ll get involved with a book project. For me, it was a rare, sunny Seattle day when Django Wexler (an author with a story in this volume and who contributed to another anthology of mine years ago) asked for one of those “brain picking” meetings.
You know the kind—where you’re familiar with something the other person wishes they were an expert in, and after they’ve gotten all your knowledge, they’ll go their own way. Well, I met with Django, who introduced me to Jennifer “Macey” Mace (an author and Hugo-nominated podcaster who also has a story in this volume). He explained that Macey had a brilliant anthology idea and a bunch of authors already signed up, but knew nothing about funding, or editing, or any of those time-consuming production things.
I happily explained all that I could... and then found myself signed up to actually do them all. This wasn’t a “brain pick” so much as a stealth job interview!
Of course, I was thrilled to be involved because Macey’s idea truly was brilliant. It was also another perfect example of how people fall into things. You see, she’d re-posted a beautiful piece of art (by digital artist Al Norton) on Twitter with a wistful caption about how she’d love to read (and write!) a story that matched it.
Other authors jumped on her post like iron filings on a magnet. “I’d write that!”, they chorused. “Please let me be in your anthology!”, they begged.
And the readers, too, emerged, writing about how they wanted to read all these stories. Suddenly, Macey had an anthology on her hands—full of authors, with a built-in audience, and dear to her heart—and no way to move forward.
Well, Macey, I hope I’ve done your vision justice with this volume of stories.
That original image (not reprinted here for obvious legal reasons) had a princess and a swordswoman facing danger. It was full of adventure and romantic potential, and elegantly captured two particular styles of femininity—the high femme and the weapon wielder.
Those styles have been prevalent through cultures and literatures for eons, of course. We can list off the femme archetype easily—princess, courtesan, “squishy” magic user, dainty musician, scholar, fashion editor. For the sword wielder, we quickly think of pirate queens, Amazons, and hiking expedition leaders.
While men traditionally take the warrior roles in media, they’re not the only option, and this iconic artwork only made that clearer. Almost seventy years after the first lesbian pulp novel (Spring Fire, 1952), there’s still space for new adventurous ladies who love other ladies.
Of course, this being a Django-Janine-Macey project (in alphabetical order, not by greatness), it had to be speculative, as well. Every story here has an element of science fiction or fantasy, in addition to adventure and romance.
Herein you will find a historical wonder tale of magical encounters, a space opera of aliens and wars, a modern quarantine race (you knew there had to be one quarantine story in a 2020 anthology), and everything in between. Our heroines are bodyguards and duelists, scholars and princesses, cis and trans, and exceedingly loveable.
Because when it comes to stories of daring and romance, love—its emotional resonance—really is all you need.
Janine A. Southard
19 June 2020
Seattle, WA