Hey Everyone!! 😊
I know, I know. I have been extremely slow at making progress on this one, and I'm sorry. I don't really have any excuse except that life, and 2020, happened. My day-job changed and the new job is demanding and eats away at the time and energy I have for writing. I'm hoping that things will get easier as time goes on, and I'm really hoping I'll finish this story before the end of next year.
But, I'm afraid that's the best I can do, hope. I can't promise because I just don't know what else might happen. 😳 What I can promise is that I will continue to post excerpts and that I will report any updates to you as they happen. And I thank you very much for all your patience with me. Though the progress on this one has been slow, there has been progress. And, eventually, the book will get written, and you'll all get to find out what happens to Petri and her friends.
But, for now, I wanted to share the fantabulous cover my good friend, the extremely talented Julie Nicholls, has created for this final installment in Petri's story. And, because it only seems fitting, I'm also including the beginning of the end below. I hope you enjoy it! 😉
Shifting Paradigms: Chapter One:
Consciousness returned slowly as Petri realized she had been staring blankly at the ceiling for quite some time. Sleep was always a challenge, lately, between the lingering nightmares and the constant background “noise” of other people's thoughts that her increase in powers made difficult to shut out. Sighing, she turned over and looked at the human woman sleeping beside her.
Despite Petri’s efforts to put the experience of her rape behind her, and Chessie’s constant comfort and reassurance, Rodney’s ghost still haunted her. She had taken men to bed since their arrival on Zanzibar but, even though none of them had been anything less than respectful and accommodating, there was always an edge of anxiety to those encounters. Petri had always been flexible in her sexual appetites, but before Rodney her preference had generally been for men. It bothered her that she was now more comfortable sleeping with women; it seemed almost like she had surrendered part of herself to her rapist. The fighter in Petri balked at that notion, and so her inability to truly relax around men ate at her.
But Wema was a special case. There was no conflict in Petri’s feelings about enjoying Wema’s company because it was impossible for anyone to be in Wema’s company and not enjoy it. The woman was several years Petri’s senior, but she had a joie de vivre that made her seem young and vibrant. Petri was so used to a constant struggle just to survive that Wema's ability to simply take in and appreciate all of life's experiences was something of a revelation. There was no calculation in Wema, no working of angles or searching for an advantage. There wasn’t even any expectation. Wema took people as she found them, and accepted everyone for who they were. Being with Wema was like putting down a burden Petri hadn’t even realized she'd been carrying.
Petri gazed at her lover, studying her features. In her sleep, Wema lay on her side, facing Petri, and her face was slack, lacking the glow and vibrancy of her personality. Things that one never saw when her sweet exuberance radiated from within became apparent. Her nose was long and a bit crooked, her cheeks wide and heavy of bone, there were fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, her lips were thin and pale, and her jowls had begun to soften and sag. As someone who, out of necessity, had made a study of how society viewed beauty, and the consequences one was likely to face for failing to meet those standards, Petri couldn’t help but note such details.
However, like Petri's own magnetism, Wema’s charm wasn’t tied to simply being the sum of her parts. When she had worked as a dolly, Petri had made an art of being exotic. She played the siren and lured clients in with the promise of something new and exciting. That persona gave Petri the ability to pass her non-standard features off as something different and interesting, rather than just flawed and unattractive. But Wema’s appeal wasn’t a façade the way Petri’s had been. If it were, it never would have worked; no one was that talented an actor. Wema's magic lay in the fact that she was genuinely thrilled by each new experience and person life sent her way. It was the unstudied nature of her enthusiasm that made it work for her; that drew people in. Wema actually liked everyone she met, and so everyone she met tended to like her.
Shifting her focus, Petri considered her lover’s closed eyes. Unlike the rest of her face, Wema’s eyes were exactly what society dictated eyes should be. They were large, but perfectly symmetrical and centered. Her eyebrows were arched and fine, but not too fine, and her eyelashes were long, thick, and dark where they lay against her pale skin. But, even here, in sleep those eyes couldn’t compete with the sparkling blue/green fire that her waking eyes were when they flashed with fun and shone with goodness.
Reaching out her hand, Petri ran it gently down the side of Wema’s body. Noting the generous, social convention might say too generous, curves and soft skin; skin that was peppered with stretch marks, moles, small scars, freckles, and other imperfections, but skin that never failed to be soothing and inviting, nonetheless. Wema’s eyelids fluttered and her body shifted towards Petri's, like a flower turning towards the warmth of the sun, but she didn't wake.
Sighing, Petri rolled onto her back and studied the ceiling. It was different from most of the ceilings on Zanzibar, which tended towards plain white and industrial, Wema had seen to that; with long, twisting vines writhing across it, suspended here and there from bright, colorful hooks. The peeks of rainbow through the riot of greenery reminded Petri, somehow, of the dreams she used to have. Dreams that contained warmth and safety; dreams she missed even though her waking circumstances had greatly improved.
Petri craned her neck to look around the room. It was early morning, and the star Zanzibar orbited was starting to show over the horizon. The soft rays painted the small room in stripes of light and shadow. Natural light was still a novelty for Petri, and she couldn’t help but smile when she raised her hand and allowed a sunbeam to play across her fingers. She marveled at the gentle heat in it, different from the heat her lover’s sleeping body was generating next to her, but pleasant and reassuring in some vague, indefinable way. Snorting softly at herself, she rolled her eyes. However much of her was human, it seemed there was enough that she was still subject to her ancestral race’s affinity for sunlight. Psychology or physiology; the line was often far more blurred than people liked to admit.
She allowed her hand to fall to her nearly flat chest and breathed deeply. Wema’s love of plants ensured that the air in her apartment was always fresh, if a bit humid and tainted with a slight scent of mildew. Petri supposed there were tradeoffs for everything, and a bit of mustiness was worth it if it meant she got to enjoy Wema’s cheerful, little slice of jungle. After all, it was certainly a much less offensive smell than the pervasive stench of decay and desperation that was Under City’s perfume.
Turning her head back to look at Wema, she saw that the other woman had woken. Her ever-inquisitive eyes were studying Petri and, when Petri turned her way, her thin lips pulled back to display crooked teeth that could only be endearing in such a wide, radiant smile. “Good morning.”
Petri returned her infectious grin. “Good morning.”
Wema stretched luxuriously and Petri enjoyed the sight of her lover’s body as her muscles flexed and relaxed. She finished the movement by bringing her arm down and resting her hand against Petri’s cheek. "Did you sleep well?"
Turning her face into Wema’s caress, Petri gently kissed her palm. “Amazingly well.” Reaching up, she took Wema's hand in hers and brought the other woman's fingers to her lips. Nibbling lightly, she said, “I always sleep well when I’m with you.” Smiling coyly over the tops of Wema’s fingers, her eyes darkened with mischief. “Any idea why that might be?”
Wema laughed, a full-throated belly laugh, and moved closer to Petri, slipping her leg over Petri’s thighs and nipping gently at her lover’s shoulder. “Hmmm… I don’ know. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of energy you expend when you’re here."
Laughing, Petri replied, “Could be." She captured Wema’s lips with her own, before trailing kisses down her chin to her throat. Pushing gently on Wema’s shoulder, Petri urged her lover onto her back and slid over to straddle her waist. Running her fingers lightly over Wema’s breasts, Petri played with her paramour’s nipple until it stiffened. Petri traced her tongue down Wema’s neck to her breast and sucked and nibbled until the other woman was gasping and moaning in pleasure.
Sliding her hand down Wema’s stomach, Petri’s intended to see how wet her lover was, but Wema clearly had other ideas. The larger woman took Petri’s wandering hand in her own, and wrapped her other arm around Petri’s back. Rolling them both over, she positioned Petri on her back on the bed and leaned up on her arms. “My turn to go first."
Petri’s laugh quickly turned into moans of pleasure as Wema captured her left nipple in her mouth as her left hand toyed with Petri’s right nipple. The older woman took her time, building Petri’s passion until she was almost ready to beg her inamorata to move lower. Wema kissed and licked her way to Petri’s mound and looked up the length of Petri’s body until she caught her lover’s eyes. Petri smiled down at Wema until the other woman covered Petri’s sex with her mouth and Petri's eyes rolled back into her head.
Wema tasted each of Petri’s folds before plunging her tongue inside her. It was all Petri could do to keep from grabbing the other woman’s hair and pushing her face closer to where she needed it. It was still an unfamiliar sensation for Petri to be on the receiving end of pleasure, instead of the one pleasuring someone else. Somehow, she found it both freeing and unnerving at the same time. But with Wema, everything they did seemed right.
As her consciousness shattered in a crescendo of bliss, Petri reminded herself to hold back and not allow herself to completely let go. Her powers were not a danger to those around her unless she lost control, so even in climax Petri had to maintain a certain amount of restraint. When she came back to herself, she found she was gasping for air. Though whether that was from the force of her release or her efforts to make sure she didn’t release her powers along with her pleasure, she wasn’t sure.
Wema’s head was pillowed on Petri’s shoulder, her fingers playing lightly over the sweat-slick skin on Petri’s chest. Petri turned her head to lay a gentle kiss on Wema’s forehead. Shifting to the side, she put a hand on Wema’s stomach and urged her onto her back again. “My turn.”
Wema grinned and lay back. Petri knelt between her legs and moved Wema’s foot onto her thigh to massage it. The older woman groaned in pleasure as Petri worked her fingers over the arch and up Wema’s ankle. Switching to the other foot, Petri rubbed it and kneaded her way up to Wema’s knee. She placed a soft kiss against the back of that knee before switching back to the other leg and alternating back and forth to kiss her way up Wema’s thighs.
Petri’s lover’s giggles turned to moans and then pleas. Grinning, Petri took mercy on Wema and put her mouth where the other woman was begging for it to be. Sucking Wema's clitoris between her lips, Petri slid two and then three of her fingers into Wema’s channel. She massaged her lover inside and out until Wema convulsed and her cries of pleasure permeated the room.
It was the moment when Petri would have fed the deepest in the past; when the person she was in bed with was so lost to sensation they wouldn’t notice the glow in her eyes. But she didn’t feed on Wema now. She had the night before¾not because she had to, but because it increased the pleasure her lover experienced¾ but Petri no longer had to restrict her feedings to during sex for fear of taking in emotions from others that she couldn’t control. And she wasn’t willing to risk Wema’s health by feeding on her too often.
When Wema’s eyes opened again, they were sparkling with humor. “You certainly delivered on your promise,” she gasped.
Petri smiled back, puzzled. “Promise?”
Wema leaned up and kissed her; Petri could still taste the saltiness of her own pleasure on the other woman’s lips. “Of a good morning. You promised a good morning, and you delivered.” Wema grinned impishly.
Laughing, Petri kissed her back. “Ah, well, then, so did you."
Wema flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes, her smile never fading. “I always try to be a woman of my word.”
Coming 2021 (hopefully)...
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