A Tribute to an Angel

At the beginning of July this year I had the pleasure of receiving a copy of “Death of an Angel” by Anna Na Maus. The book is part of her “Angels of Etain” series of stories.

I read the book from start to finish in one morning. Once finished I felt their was something missing some sort of tribute for the Angel who Died.

I contacted Anna offering to write this tribute and this was accepted the original version appears on Anna`s own blog page and I have her authorization to post this to my on Blog.

“Death on an Angel” by Anna Na Maus Published by TransScripts Publishing is available as an E book via Anna`s  Blog and from Amazon.

A link to Anna`s Blog  is at the bottom of this Blog post.

For those who have not yet read “Death of an Angel” this tribute names a couple of the deceased which may spoil the experience of reading the book.


A Tribute to an Angel

With the court case still, weeks away the bodies of the trans killer’s victims were released into the arms of their loved ones so that funerals could take place. All the funerals were important but two stood out even more than the rest. Of course each of the senior officers involved attended all the funerals as a matter of respect.

The funeral of WPC Helen McGiven was conducted with full police honors as befits their fellow officer.

A guard of honor from most of the United Kingdom police forces lined the streets to salute the coffin draped with the Avon and Somerset constabulary flag and her uniform hat on the top.

Helen may not have lost her life in the line of duty, but she was well respected by many not just in the force she was also an outspoken on behalf of the local Transgender community.

The last of the funerals was for their close friend Mary Shannon everyone knew this was going to be the most difficult day for all at Sanctuary.

A day that everyone connected to Sanctuary had been dreading and one they had to endure. Each and every one had been shocked by the murder of Mary, within a place of safety, support and understanding.

Mary was one of a kind.

Mary was often the first person to greet the new arrivals at the front doors.

Mary was a friend to all.

Mary was a confident.

Mary was a nurse.

Mary was a great cook and everyone loved her cakes.

Mary was the good foil against the punishment from Danni and Ang for those in the correction suites in the basement.

The Orangery was so different today the usual bright white drapes had black sashes around them in neatly tied bows.

No singing or music was to be heard anywhere in the room.

Mary was always immaculately dressed and this went hand and hand in with everyone that touched her.

The tables were placed around the perimeter of the room and laid for a small snack later on with soft flickering candles dancing to a gentle breeze blowing from the opening doors.

In the middle of the room Mary was the center of attention for the last time, her coffin sitting on trestles with a wreath of white roses on the top.

Those that Sanctuary had assisted over the years filled most of the chairs many in brighter clothing as Mary would not have it any other way. All of them bereft in grief for their friend.

D I Gregg DeSilver escorted Dr Celia Davenport.

DS Carl Brightwater had a very emotional Angelina Carson on his arm.

Danni Wentworth had Mark Blakeney at her side.

Andi was there dressed in her Black waitress uniform with white apron and the seams on her stockings perfectly straight with her polished court shoes.

Tiffany Shannon was there with her girlfriend Violet.

Tiffany`s sister, Kelly, was there with her friend Emily.

There were fitting tributes shared from those close to Mary.

Danni recalled when Emily had persuaded Madame to change their treatment of her that Mary told that the gardener had picked some fresh tomatoes and she would go and rustle up some home-made Tomato Soup and would be back shortly. Mary had returned with some fresh made Tomato soup that was very special; Mary had a way of making the simplest of meals into something special.

Tiffany told all that Auntie Mary made such wonderful cakes that everyone enjoyed along with some extra lbs on the hips. The whole room laughed at that one.

Dr Davenport, spoke about Marys private fears on being buried alive and had requested that she would be cremated. Cecelia would honor that request.

Cecelia spoke to the room in between the tears and the laughter. Most knew that Mary was actually her Husband Martin, being the first of many irritant males to come into her programme of punishment. Many she knew deserved it what they got others like Mary and a quick glance towards Danni did not.

Mary had forgiven her wife on all that happened and in truth it brought them closer together. Looking down at the coffin she whispered so they had to strain to hear her you were my loving wife and you have been taken away from me.

At that the pall bearers step forward, Greg, Carl, Mark and Gareth lifted the coffin for Mary`s last journey from the Orangery and Sanctuary to the waiting hearse and the funeral cars ready to take the journey to the local crematorium for a private service.

As the funeral procession started to move off all the staff and guests lined up on either side of drive way each with their own unique memories of Mary. As the last of the cars went through the gates all that was heard was wailing and crying as they returned to the Orangery and a small meal prepared by the caterers.

The following week Mary`s ashes were returned to Sanctuary where a private interment occurred with those close to Mary.

Cecelia kept a small urn with some of Marys ashes in her handbag so that they would always be together.

In a few weeks they would all be in court to hear the case against Mary`s accused murderer Morag Baines.



Anna Na Naus








Site layout and Activity

I have taken the time to play around with the site layout trying various themes and have decided this layout is bright, clean, fresh looking and sharp.

My friends and fellow authors at TransScripts TV Fiction are a consent support and inspiration with there input and suggestions not just on stories also with wonderful advice on the site layout.

Welcome to my blog site and enjoy your visit, In due time I will add more to the site as my attention has been focused elsewhere in recent months.




My Storiestrans script


This story was originally posted on Valentines Day 2017 and is my first Solo story.  I have two versions of this story the first I was not happy with and reviewed to this version.

– – –

The mirror on the wall sees all and hides nothing.

– – –

He comes again looking sad and seems to have lost his way and all interest in life as the mirror on the wall reflects all in his room.

She comes again looking happy and contented with her life, happy within herself as the mirror on the wall reflects all in her room.

– – –

He standing in his bedroom the one door of the wardrobe is missing altogether the other hanging on for dear life by it last remaining hinge, the hanging rail sloping with his suits and jackets crushed together.

She standing in her Bedroom the wardrobe is white with flowery decor just to add that feminine touch the doors and drawers closed and fitting properly. Her dresses hung on soft padded hangers, her shoes together in the bottom of the wardrobe.

– – –

His drawers of the small bedroom unit all open with items in total disarray scattered all over the floor, as if he just had been burgled, he would not know if he had or had not been.

Her chest of drawers, likewise all closed and tidy with bras, panties, stockings, and suspenders, folded neatly in their correct places. The vanity unit and stool in the same style of the wardrobe, her makeup, and hairbrushes neat and tidy laid out to hand for ease of use.

– – –

His bed typical of most males is unmade and the carpet needs replaced it has seen better times.

Her bed is a canopy style with pink drapes and pillows neatly made as soon as she raises for the day.

– – –

He Five foot four inches in height, the mouse brown hair straggly, uncombed, heaven only knows when that face had a shave never even a face cloth. His hands are ragged and the nails broken and dirty.

She Five foot four inches in height, her hair style is a soft gentle wave, mouse blonde cooler looked after with her regular visits to her hair stylist, as is her hands and nails with a soft light red polish.

– – –

His light blue eyes dull and almost lifeless at what he is.

Her light blue eyes highlighted by her mascara and the eye shadow shine and sparkle.

– – –

His body so out of condition the inevitable pot belly appears as he has grown older.

Her body is trim and fit with her and the occasional visit to the gym and diet, as she grown older has blossomed sure of herself and the choices she has made.

– – –

Today is Valentine’s Day and he really makes the effort on his appearance.

Today is Valentine’s day and she makes a special effort in her appearance

– – –

He now shaved and hair combed neatly, refreshed from his shower returns to the room to dress.

She has treated herself with a long soak in her scented bubble bath now feeling pampered and relaxed returns to the room to dress.

– – –

He stands in an almost new Dark Blue suit with the standard white long sleeved shirt and matching tie to the suit, his shoes polished to a high shine, checking himself in the mirror almost happy with, retaining some pride in his appearance, turns and picks up that bunch of roses and leaves the room.

She dressed for the evening her corset aids her trim figure with her dress reaching to midcalf, her necklace sits comfortably between her breasts drawn a little to attention to her cleavage. Her heels add some three inches to her height. Checking herself in the mirror happy with her appearance, the doorbell rings, her date for the evening has arrived, taken the bunch of roses from him, pops them in some water, collecting her coat and handbag (purse) leaves the room.

– – –

This is who I am not that male who was unhappy and unsure, I am happy, I am me, I am woman.



Who Knows About The Other You

Who knows about the other you.

I came across a story many years ago regarding a wife discovering her late husband was a Cross dresser when a letter  arrived from a letting agent regarding a flat she was unaware off.  The wife was curious and took time to go and visit the flat to discover the other side of her husband and wished he had been more open to share his feminine side with her. They both had missed the opportunity to discover more around each other.

Recently the story came back to mind during a conversation with a friend who like me loves to Cross dress.

My wife is aware of my dressing and has been for many years although not wanting encourage me allows me time to be Samantha. My friend`s wife is unaware she Cross Dressers, like many of us it is a difficult choice to tell our families.

It took me years to let our children know that Dad had a strong feminine side, today they know about Sam and have not meet her, I feel our daughter would not have any issue with her however not sure about the boys,

The story , along with the conversation with my friend, got me wondering more on those that do not know and what they would feel about this when it is revealed our enjoyment of the finer clothes and feelings we enjoy.

When we depart our earthly bodies have we arranged for those in the know be it family or friends to take care of our feminine things so those who are not aware are not distressed even more at an already distressing time .  Remember many people see our love of dressing as some sort of perversion and tend to class us as something abhorrent.

Yes  my family know and my daughter and I are close and she is accepting of my female side. like mum, as long as I do not push it in the face.

Its not just about the clothes how do we say goodbye to those who are aware of our female sides.

So  is it time to think about this and have someone have the details of our sides to let others know. Have a list of the sites we are on and the passwords so at least we have someone to say we have move on.

I already have the person in mind who I will trust to do this for me and am still not decided on how to do this.  The details I will have to leave in a letter for them to get after I have moved on and I am certain they will carry out my wishes, and I will talk to them about this and inform them.

Something to consider to avoid others being hurt when discovering our feminine side.

Who knows about the other you.


This is where  I  share something about Samantha Ann Donaldson.

I have been a cross dresser for many years with my wife at times supporting my dressing at other times not. We have a family and share much together in lives ups and downs, with much more ups than downs.

I love to dress as womanly or girly as I possible can, and have the greatest of respect for woman. Much preferring Stocking than tights, I adore wearing  Cuban heeled stockings black with red seams.

Not Just Stockings, basques and suspender belts,  matching lingerie, shoes, Dresses and skirts. May girl clothing has a larger collection than my wife has. When dressed  it helps relax me a lot.

I like to read quality Transgendered stories and have only  recently writing my own, with the support and encouragement from fellow authors  I have started posting to FM and BC under the name of Samantha Ann.

I respond to being called Samantha  Ann , Sammie and Sam – my close friends call me Sam.

Just a little about me

Will add a little more when I get used to this blog