Novice painter Evelyn Fon gets more than she bargained for after receiving her first big commission for the brand new Drinkwater Hotel. Who would have guessed Gavin Drinkwater, heir to the family fortune, would take such a keen personal interest in her? But when Evelyn arrives at the hotel's elegant Gala Celebration, she soon discovers she's there as a date for Gavin Drinkwater Senior, her crush's elitist--albeit incredibly handsome--father!

In attempting to escape the party--not to mention her embarrassment--Evelyn stumbles upon Gavin's mother Imelda, who reveals the 20-year-old tale of her torrid affair with a young ballerina named Ondine. But, as Evelyn soon finds out from the Drinkwater patriarch, there's more deception to her love story than even Imelda is aware. Can Evelyn uncover the truths buried in the past and reunite Gavin's estranged free-loving parents? Perhaps her role in the family drama will even earn her a place in the bashful heir's heart...

An erotic journey through the worlds of ballet, art, and passionate liaisons, Ondine is a sensual exploration of pansexual free love wrapped in a boy-meets-girl tale of mix-ups and misunderstandings.

Warnings: This title contains graphic language depicting m/f sex, f/f sex, pansexual orgy, and m/f/f ménage.

Word Count: 38,300

EXCERPT:

Ondine’s impulse to flee subsided as Yvette traced gloved fingers across her forearm, consoling, “Ah!  No, no, no!  Don’t cry, ma chère.  We don’t want your eyes all red and puffy as you greet your future husband.”  Yvette found a tissue in her purse and dried her eyes.  “There.  You look more beautiful than ever.  I would be proud if you were my bride.”

Her bride?  What a ridiculous thing to say!  Yvette’s bride…  Champagne bubbles effervesced in Ondine’s belly, rising up through her chest until they burst as laughter from her throat.  She couldn’t contain the joy of being close again after weeks of estrangement and longing.  A smile crawled across Yvette’s cheeks as laughter burst the tension pervading the cold church room.

“Clotilde did my hair.  Do you like it?” Ondine asked, fishing for a compliment.

“Absolument!” she giggled.  “I always said you looked good with your hair up.” 

Giddy now, Ondine danced over to the old sofa at the far end of the room and collapsed there in her bridal gown.   Yvette followed to lean in beside her, midnight black against pristine white. What a relief to feel at ease after so long.  How wonderful to giggle and chat, and simply feel comfortable with Yvette again. 

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Ondine admitted, gazing into her friend’s cheerful eyes.  Of course, she couldn’t say the words with Yvette looking right at her, so she leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t kiss Rejean without imagining you.  Isn’t that scandalous?” 

For all her reluctance, now that she’d finally given voice to her irreverent desires, they no longer seemed so devastating.  In fact, they seemed rather funny.  Ondine laughed.  They both did. 

“Do you think I can ever be happy with Rejean?” Ondine asked.

“I hope so, for your sake,” she sighed with seeming sincerity.  Yvette spoke slowly into her ear, allowing each word the weight it deserved.  “But if you want the absolute truth, I suspect you’d be more fulfilled if I were your lover.” 

A new wave of desire bred goose bumps along Ondine’s bare arms.  Yvette sat so near to her she could feel the intense heat radiating from that body cloaked all in black.  Their cheeks brushed as Yvette leaned back to look into her eyes.  Ondine knew she was about to get kissed.  She knew it and did nothing to prevent it.  She wanted that kiss.  Would it feel as she’d always imagined?  Soft and warm?  Slow and languorous?

Yvette placed a firm hand on Ondine’s cheek, holding her gaze steady.  As their lips touched, glossy pink against deep crimson, heavy breaths escaped them both.  Ondine savoured their long-awaited first kiss, her frantic tongue swimming in the warm pool of Yvette’s mouth.  Her body was electrified.  Particles of energy darted through her like shooting stars.  Never has she imagined a woman could kiss so heatedly, with such blazing intensity.  Ondine wanted more.  She wanted everything.

Welcoming Yvette’s touch, she hiked up the skirts of her gown with desperate determination.  Moth to flame, Yvette’s hand cupped her mound over her new silk panties.  Cupped and squeezed.  Beneath her bridal lingerie, sweet juices flowed.  Surrendering herself completely to the woman in black, she laid limp beneath the torrent of kisses.  Whatever Yvette wished for, Ondine desired. 

Forcing her satin-gloved hand beneath Ondine’s panties, Yvette plunged impassioned fingers into her silken slit.  The nectar flowed faster as she rubbed those tender lips.  Yvette broke away to watch in the mirror, mesmerized as she massaged the bride’s clito, but Ondine had waited far too long for that kiss.  She wouldn’t let it slip away so easily.  Grasping Yvette’s head in her hands, she brought the girl’s lips to hers and kissed them in a frenzy.  There wasn’t much time.  She had to get married soon.