Bedtime Stories: A Collection of Erotic Fairy Tales by Jean Johnson

Author:Jean Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Erotica - General, Fiction - Adult, Romance - Adult, Fantasy, Erotica - Short Stories, General, Romance, Erotic stories, American, Fairy tales, Adult, Erotica, Fiction, Short stories, Adaptations
ISBN: 9780425232576
Publisher: Penguin Group USA
Published: 2010-04-06T07:00:00+00:00

“NEVADA? I’m Socorro.” The Althinac woman held out her hand in greeting as Nevada descended the steps of the Congregation Halls, having successfully petitioned the council for the terms of her impending divorce and relocation.

“Yes, I remember,” Nevada admitted, clasping hands. “I didn’t mean to ignore you yesterday. It was rather rude of me, the way Migel and I just kept talking . . .”

Socorro shook her head quickly, making her long, dark braid bounce a little. Dressed as she was in a fitted Althinac gown and corset, both made from fabric, she was drawing a lot of attention from the Menomonites passing them on the steps up to the halls. “No, you had a lot on your mind last night. And a lot in common with my cousin, it seems.”

Nevada smiled. “Thank you. We’ll try not to monopolize everything again.”

“Well, if I could monopolize you for a little while,” Socorro teased, “I have some gifts I promised to pass along to you. Most of them are from the loyalist faction, though a few come from the moderates among the rebels. A set of clothes in the Althinac style, some trinkets and jewelry, that sort of thing. When my cousin told me what he had planned, I didn’t know what sort of culture you’d be living among, and figured you’d want some Althinac finery so you’d feel more like you’d fit in when you return with us. Men don’t usually think of such things, you know.”

“That’s very kind of you. I’d like to see what you brought,” Nevada agreed. “I’ve missed wearing skirts. They’re not very practical here in Menomon, not when the fastest way from one point to another sometimes means literally swimming to get there. Are they on your ship or . . . ?”

“I brought everything down to my guest room in the Flame Tower earlier this morning. I’m told you didn’t have anything like a hotel until recently, just a temporary housing hostel for newly arrived citizens,” Socorro said.

Nevada demurred. “Menomon has had good reason for isolating itself over the years,” she said, turning and heading toward the tower in question. “Which means we don’t have a lot of outside visitors passing through.”

“That’s understandable. I trust you have the same sort of water-breathing spells enveloping your city environs that we do,” Socorro added, gesturing at the hydrostatic dome sheltering the section of city they were in, separating the air-filled spaces of Menomon from the water-filled ones. A second dome was vaguely visible beyond the first, sheltering the city from the sheer weight of all that water overhead.

“Of course. Our water-breathing spells are rather extensive, in fact. This general section of the Sun’s Belt Reefs is easier for ships to traverse than other sections, but easier isn’t the same as easy. Every year, a couple of ships sink as they try to ply their trade routes between the Aian and Katani continents . . . which is why housing is at such a premium right now. This way to the Flame Tower,” Nevada added as Socorro started to turn the wrong way.

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