[Jayne Greye]

From the Charity Anthology Hard at Work: Women with Muscle, edited by Jak Cratocles and myself. All the proceeds from the work will go to food banks and Direct Relief (which garners PPE for medical professionals).
On Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1027579
On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08B8SJRJZ/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Hard+at+Work%3A+Women+with+Muscle&qid=1592330317&s=books&sr=1-1
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Here is a selection from Jak’s story: Sylph in the New Girl. Some of you may remember the Sylph stories from other places on the web; this is a complete, new story featuring Sylph and a couple new friends, complete with several pictures sprinkled throughout.

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The woman who stepped into the lobby from the nearby, unfinished hallway, was not quite what Sylph had expected. Somehow, her physique was less of a surprise to Sylph than her carriage and stature: Xiu was far more physically imposing than any woman Sylph had ever seen outside of herself, in a mirror. Despite being relatively short, Xiu was even thicker than the blond amazon Sylph had battled on national TV. She didn’t have the sort of ripped-to-the-bone physique of a contest-ready bodybuilder; rather, she had the sort of heavy, beefy thickness of a woman accustomed to using her body for hard, physical labor.
It was impossible not to notice how well Xiu filled out the normally relaxed fit of her construction workers’ blue jeans, nor the way the oversized sleeves of her t-shirt were pulled taut against the swelling of her biceps. Despite her imposing mass, the way Xiu positioned herself, behind Jesse and to his left, and the way she ducked her chin as she approached, suggested a deep reserve bordering on shyness.
Sylph nodded a greeting at the woman and held out her hand. After a brief pause, Xiu reached forward and clasped her hand in return. Her grip was firm, but carefully calibrated to avoid discomfort, much the same way Sylph’s was. Xiu looked briefly into Sylph’s eyes, then quickly dropped her gaze. “Good ta meetchah,” she said.
Sylph blinked. “Where are you from, Xiu?”
The girl squared her shoulders and looked up, but dropped her chin again almost immediately. “Bahstahn,” she said, and Sylph translated it in her head to Boston.
“So,” Sylph chuckled, “not China, then?”
Xiu’s ruddy complexion deepened further as she blushed. “I’ve never been, ma’am,” she said.
“Please don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” Sylph said. “I’m not that old.”
“I’m pretty sure that Xiu’s a few years older than you,” Jesse agreed. “At least, she is if I can believe her job application.”
“Pardon me…” Xiu said, letting her apology hang invitingly. Her accent was less pronounced than it had seemed, initially, but she still almost completely swallowed her r’s and the distinct shaping of her vowels gave her speech a charming, quaintly exotic flavor.
“Just call me Sylph,” the bigger girl answered, “and quit apologizing. Relax.”
Xiu flashed another tight, shy smile.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jesse said. “If you two could get the heavy lifting done on thirty-one, I can have the night crew work on getting the wiring and plumbing hooked up.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Sylph agreed and Jesse waved and walked off.
Sylph turned to Xiu. “When he says ‘heavy lifting,’” she said, “he means it. You look pretty stacked; think you’ll be able to keep up with me?”

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