Ladies and gentlemen, make sure you’re sitting down!
The author has finally finished a first draft, but it is not Laura’s book. No siree, Sam, it is Laura’s League, Lesbian Adventure Club: Book 12.
I have no clue how long it will take her to do edits. Her goal was to have it out this month, but I’m not sure she’ll pull that off. But still, it’s close! I will keep you posted on our prodding and her progress.
In the meantime, here’s the prologue I swiped. I have a feeling she would eviscerate me if I took more of this one, so I will behave … unless, of course, the edits take her too long.
Claudia lay on my chest, and her hand rested on my belly. With my arm around her, I pulled her a bit closer as I tried to spy the moon—even a star would do—through our porch’s glass ceiling. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing but darkness.
“Are you sure we should be here?” Susan asked from her spot on the other end of the porch.
“Of course you should be here,” Claudia answered without hesitation. “It’s a Lesbian Adventure Club day. Of course you should be here. We all should be here.”
“I just don’t want to make anything worse,” she responded.
“Me, either,” Alison said.
Claudia repeated, “We all should be here.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be lying together as couples,” Janice suggested.
For that one, Claudia did not have a response at the ready. I didn’t either, but I knew I was precisely where I needed to be. I withdrew my attention from the celestial ceiling and kissed her forehead.
“Let’s just see how it goes,” she finally said. “We’ll know what to do.”
Quiet overtook the room, and yet, I sensed great activity, as though the churning of minds became a tactile thing.
In an ominous whisper, Alison asked, “Things aren’t going to change, are they?”
“If they do, it will be for the better.”
I didn’t have a response for that one either. Things had already changed, and I loathed it. But we’d need time before it became obvious whether we happened upon a nasty bump in the road or truly went off the edge of a cliff.
“Being here like this ensures they won’t change,” Claudia said and then repeated, “We all should be here.”
“But that’s the problem: We all can’t be here.”
A thick silence oozed over us.
She took to stroking my arm, and I focused on the sensation.
After a moment, she inquired, “Anybody know what time it is?”
“Ten to nine,” Maggie told her.
“Twenty minutes until she gets here,” she distractedly said.
Twenty minutes: the blink of an eye and an eternity; desired and dreaded; real-world ticking in a place that proved surreal.
I pulled her closer, and we bided the passage of time.