As Dreams Are Made On is my sci-fi lesbian update of Shakespeare's The Tempest. I like to think it's where the Bard might have taken it had he seen Star Trek.
It was kicked
off by a Facebook group of a few authors floating the idea of a Shakespeare
inspired anthology of short stories. The Tempest has long been a favourite of
mine from when I saw the 50s SF movie 'Forbidden Planet' and someone explained
that it was Shakespeare in space. I've also seen the Royal Shakespeare Company
do it with Patrick Stewart (Captain Jean Luc Picard of the starship Enterprise)
as Prospero.
So I dived
straight into Shakespeare on my kindle and hit Wikipedia and Google for dates,
events and themes in Shakespeare and for images to inspire me. I also revisited
Forbidden Planet and a lot of Star Trek. That wasn’t hard though as I am a
total Trekkie and frankly, once I typed the word "bo'sun" it
practically wrote itself.
A stricken starship, a captain lost in space; a beautiful alien girl,
marooned and adrift in time; the perfect robotic servant. Can he help them come
together and find the space and time for love?
Faberge Nostromo takes Shakespeare's 'The Tempest' far into the future
and onto a world where two women find that love, with the aid of a very capable
android, can be such a thing as dreams
are made on.
EXCERPT -
"I am a woman, Miranda.
Flesh and blood. The same as you."
Miranda breathed in slowly,
her gaze flitting from Ferdinand's eyes to her lips.
"Yes. Yes. You are.
Captain, kiss me again."
Ferdinand sought Miranda's
mouth now, more eagerly, and darted her tongue inside. The kiss was full and
deep, both girls probing and tussling with their tongues as Ferdinand ran her
fingers through Miranda's long purple tresses. Miranda put a hand on the small
of Ferdinand's back, pushing harder, and with her other hand stroked
Ferdinand's neck. She used her hands to explore every inch of Ferdinand's back
and shoulders, gently sliding over the silver of her uniform, tracing her spine
and muscles through the tight material, kneading and caressing in turn.
Their mouths parted, tongues
teasing until Ferdinand leaned to one side and danced a series of butterfly
kisses on the smooth blue skin of Miranda's neck and throat. Miranda gasped and
slid her hand around from Ferdinand's back and inched toward the curve of her
breast.
"Captain..." Miranda
whispered.
"Jane. It's Jane,"
Ferdinand replied in between the pattern of kisses she was placing on Miranda's
neck. Miranda inched her fingers toward Ferdinand's breast until they gently brushed
the smooth lower curve. She stopped.
"Jane, should I..."
"Yes, Miranda,"
Ferdinand replied. She placed a hand on Miranda's and gently moved it up until
Miranda's slim blue fingers covered her breast. "Let your emotions and
desires tell you what to do."
Ferdinand's nipple hardened as
Miranda gently explored the curve and outline of her breast through the tight
silver of her uniform. Ferdinand released her hand and placed her own on
Miranda's pert, firm breast, feeling her nipple already hard through the silk.
She circled the tight button with her thumb and felt Miranda mirror her
movements.
They kissed again, deeply, as
each felt the other's soft curves and hard nipples, Miranda's fingers
exploring, Ferdinand's confident and insistent. Ferdinand was wet now and
wanted those smooth blue fingers to explore inside her. She knew she had to
gently lead Miranda there, to teach her, guide her.
Faberge Nostromo grew up in
the East End of London before escaping to East Anglia. He has been a civil
servant, a tea boy, sound engineer, a librarian and an IT consultant but always
knew that he was a writer. He now lives deep in the heart of Suffolk with
his wife, son and too many guitars.
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