I closed my eyes for a moment with the thought of that, then rose and pulled her to her feet, led her to our bedchamber—to discover it banked with flowers.
Laurel playfully tucked blossoms behind my ears, laughing at me; laughing together we removed the blossoms covering our bed. I took her into my arms, pressing my naked body into hers, caressing her body with all of my own. “Megan,” she soon breathed, eyes closed. I lowered her to our bed.
Entwined in her soft limbs, I kissed her face, her throat, in unhurried loving of her. . . The wind came up and played its tune as again my mouth came to hers, my tongue parting her lips to stroke the velvet within, an act so suggestive of another that I was suddenly impaled with desire. As her body surged into mine with each stroke of my tongue I heard the sounds in her throat and knew no more of the outside world then or throughout that night—only our own sounds of joy, of love.
XV
20.1.1
On this, our twentieth Anniversary Day, Christa and I swell with pride—our beloved Celeste competes for the first time in the games, and in a most difficult event, the pentathalon.
Megan has opened the games as usual. As is now her custom, she does not remain with Mother and our Inner Circle, but goes to a tiny plateau overlooking the amphitheater to watch the games with her dearest ones. As the games begin, I bring Megan in on my scope . . . She lies on a fleece with her head in Laurel’s lap, smiling at the antics of their second born as she struggles to walk, a lovely blue-eyed child of less than a year whom they have named Crystal. Laurel, even lovelier in these past few years in the fullness of her womanhood, sits stroking Megan’s hair. Their first born, a restless child displaying extraordinary intelligence at the age of only three, is raptly watching the game of Criss-Cross on the holograph, determined to comprehend its complexities. She has Megan’s coloring and those green eyes, and they have named her Emerald.
Megan has changed so these past few years . . . Although her advice is constantly sought on many problems of significant scope, she is less involved with the affairs of our two colonies and we must seek her; she is not freely available to us as she once was. And while she is no less a personage, no less revered among us, she seems softer in manner, younger—less Olympian. Happiness has come to her. And changed her. And no one of us would wish that to be different.
I ruminate over events of these past years, trying to calm myself as our dear Celeste prepares to compete . . . She is so like my Christa, the beloved woman to whom I am Joined, who has brought such joy all these years to my days and nights . . .
The pentathalon begins.
Celeste has finished fourth, a highly creditable performance for a first appearance in the games, considering that she is but fourteen. All the members of the Inner Circle are gathered around us in congratulation.
Mother has joined us, has kissed my cheek, and Christa’s. “Hers is a medal that will give me great pleasure to award,” she says, beaming.
Then she pulls her green cape around her and examines each of us with those extraordinary eyes. “Dear ones,” she finally says, “honestly now, how much more of this peace and quiet and happiness do you expect me to endure?”
We greet this with astonished silence.
Mother looks at us impatiently. “You mean to tell me that none of you is bored?” She adds hopefully, “Even a little?”
“Perhaps we could arrange a trip for you, Mother,” Hera suggests drily. “A month on the treacherous continent of O’Connor.”
“Phosh,” Mother retorts. “Volcanoes? Earthquakes? In a week I’d be bored again. Dear girls,” she says so softly that I have to strain to hear, “I find myself thinking more and more about . . . my other girls. I know better than to worry, but I do wonder . . .”
We all stir uncomfortably; I exchange glances with Demeter and Diana. Such thoughts have never been far from any of us, and only yesterday we had again spoken of our sisters, speculated about that part of our Unity that has been separated like an amputation from us.
Suddenly Mother turns to my beloved and says, “Christa, what do you think about returning for a visit to your birthplace?”
“Whatever Minerva would wish,” Christa says carefully, in a low voice. “We would have to consult.” But I have seen the surge of eagerness and excitement on the face of my beloved to whom I can refuse nothing. Mother’s cleverness is, at times, not to be borne.
“We would all have to consult,” Venus murmurs, gazing at her latest companion, a pretty young woman with Oriental features and dark glossy hair.
“It would be so good to see Olympia and Isis,” Vesta murmurs, looking at Carina, who takes her hand and smiles.
“It would be good to see my daughters and all my offspring,” Mother says softly.
“Mother.” Hera’s voice is exasperated. “Do you realize what a trip to Earth would involve? The preparation? We would have to outfit that primitive Cruiser in orbit around us, we would have to discover a method of entering the solar system undetected, we would have to—”
Mother waves a hand. “Details. You know how details bore me.” She calls back over her shoulder as she returns to her chaise to watch the games, “I know you girls can manage.”
About the Author
Katherine V. Forrest’s 15 works of fiction are in translation worldwide. In addition to Daughters of a Coral Dawn, the first novel in her award-winning lesbian-feminist-utopian trilogy, she is the author of the lesbian classics Curious Wine and An Emergence of Green, and the celebrated, award-winning Kate Delafield mystery series. Her stories, articles and reviews have appeared in national and international publications. A highly respected fiction editor, she has worked with many published authors, has edited or co-edited numerous anthologies, and conducted seminars and taught many classes in the craft of fiction.
Honors and awards include four Lambda Literary Awards, the Bill Whitehead Lifetime Achievement from the Publishing Triangle, the Pioneer Award from the Lambda Literary Foundation, and a profile in USA Today. Senior editor at the storied Naiad Press for ten years, she is currently supervising editor at Spinsters Ink and editor-at-large for Bella Books.
She lives with her partner and their two personality-plus cats in the beautiful Southern California desert.
Publications from
Bella Books, Inc.
Women. Books. Even Better Together.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
Phone: 800-729-4992
www.bellabooks.com
BLIND BET by Tracey Richardson. The stakes are high when Ellen Turcotte and Courtney Langford meet at the blackjack tables. Lady Luck has been smiling on Courtney but Ellen is a wild card she may not be able to handle.
978-1-59493-211-3 $14.95
JUKEBOX by Gina Daggett. Debutantes in love. With each other. Two young women chafe at the constraints of parents and society with a friendship that could be more, if they can break free. Gina Daggett is best known as “Lipstick” of the columnist duo Lipstick & Dipstick. 978-1-59493-212-0 $14.95
SHADOW POINT by Amy Briant. Madison Maguire has just been not-quite fired, told her brother is dead and discovered she has to pick up a five-year-old niece she’s never met. After she makes it to Shadow Point it seems like someone—or something—doesn’t want her to leave. Romance sizzles in this ghost story from Amy Briant. 978-1-59493-216-8 $14.95
DEVIL’S ROCK: THE SEARCH FOR PATRICK DOE by Gerri Hill. Deputy Andrea Sullivan and Agent Cameron Ross vow to bring a killer to justice. The killer has other plans. Gerri Hill pens another intriguing blend of mystery and romance in this page-turning thriller. 978-1-59493-218-2 $14.95
SOMETHING TO BELIEVE by Robbi McCoy. When Lauren and Cassie meet on a once-in-a-lifetime river journey through China their feelings are innocent…at first. Ten years later, nothing—and everything—has changed. From Golden Crown winner Robbi McCoy. 978-1-59493-214-4 $14.95
LEAVING L.A. by Kate Christie. Eleanor Chapin is on the way to the rest of her life when Tess
a Flanaghan offers her a lucrative summer job caring for Tessa’s daughter Laya. It’s only temporary and everyone expects Eleanor to be leaving L.A . . . 978-1-59493-221-2 $14.95
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