The next morning Olivia woke. She glanced towards the bedroom but found it empty and no sign of their guest. Liv was in the kitchen brewing coffee.
“Morning,” Liv said plainly. “Coffee?”
“Yes thanks.” Olivia was very aware that Liv was dressed in nothing other than a thin white snug t-shirt and her knickers.
“Hope you slept okay and I didn’t wake you.” Liv’s statement was the antithesis of an apology.
“No. The couch was quite comfortable. Thanks.” Olivia was relieved, hoping that perhaps Liv had not realised she was awake after all. She quickly busied herself, seemingly focussing on retrieving a coffee-mug from the cupboard. She did not want to give Liv the opportunity to notice her awkwardness.
“It’s funny to think you have all my memories,” Liv said. She stood leaning against the kitchen counter, hot coffee-mug in hand. She was observing Olivia, over the top of her mug as she took sips, in a way that made Olivia exceedingly uncomfortable.
“I only have some of your memories,” Olivia said, “and they have mostly faded already.”
“Still though, at least you have the peace of mind that no one was digging around in your head.”
“No, they were just messing with my head.” Olivia grabbed a mug.
Liv seemed to take her point.
“Look Liv, if it helps, I really cannot remember anything very clearly. I think, other than a knowledge of the factual differences in our past, it did not give me much else.” Olivia was not sure why she was explaining this to Liv or why some part of her wanted to make Liv feel better. “It’s not like I still have access and can read you because if it.”
“You’d like that though,” Liv said. She took another sip of her coffee.
“What?” Olivia felt confused.
“…to get into my head, again,” Liv said casually, but still observing Olivia very closely.
“No,” Olivia shook her head.
“You are curious though,” Liv paused. “You are curious to know how alike or different we actually are, in our thoughts and emotions.”
“Look Liv, you live your life. I live mine.” Olivia tried to shrugged off the conversation and focussed on pouring herself a coffee.
Olivia suddenly felt a hot presence right behind her.
“You are curious,” Liv said inches away from Olivia’s left ear. “I bet, at this moment, you are wondering if I am thinking the same thing you are.”
Olivia closed her eyes and tried to block out the hot breaths that were tickling her neck and the feeling of heat radiating from Liv’s skin—the same as hers, right behind her. If she leant back by a hair’s breadth she was sure she would feel Liv’s pert breasts against her back. She swallowed. “We are very different,” she managed to say.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Olivia could hardly breathe. She closed her eyes tightly. Waiting.
When nothing happened for a few moments, Olivia opened her eyes to find Liv gone. A few seconds later she heard the shower run.
Olivia willed her legs into action and she returned to the living room where she sat and drank her coffee waiting for the shower to be free.
When she was sure Liv had finished in the bathroom, Olivia drained her cup and headed through the bedroom to the shower. As she entered, she saw Liv sitting at her dresser with her towel loosely draped around her waist. Again Olivia was drawn to the beautiful sight of Liv’s toned bare back and automatically her gaze followed the line down to the top of her buttocks, which was just visible above the folds of the towel. When she finally looked up, she saw Liv’s face in the mirror. She was sporting a skew smile and she was looking straight at her. She had been busted.
Olivia swiftly turned and fled into the bathroom closing the door behind her.
The hot water of the shower massaged her back and neck—a necessary caress she had been craving since she set foot in this universe. She was enjoying her brief private relaxation so much that she did not notice the door open.
Olivia started when she finally noticed the extra presence in the small steamy room. Liv just stood there with her towel draped around her hips, exposing her bare breasts, observing Olivia. Clearly she was very comfortable with her own body.
What made Olivia cringe with awkwardness was the fact that Liv’s eyes were roaming up and down her own body. Olivia had to clench her jaw to stop the overwhelming instinct to cover up and hide. She decided in that instant that if Liv was so comfortable being naked, she was not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing her own vulnerability and shyness. After all they were effectively identical and it was like being naked in a mirror.
“You did not hear me,” Liv said continuing her unabashed appraisal. “I said, since we can’t go out, how about we watch a few movies today?”
Olivia replied as evenly as possible. “Hope you’ve got a few new good ones.”
Having received an adequate answer, or perhaps, having seen enough, Liv grabbed a hairbrush from the bathroom-cupboard and with one last up-and-down glance at Olivia, she left.
Once the door closed behind Liv, Olivia leaned against the cold wall, and let out a huge breath she had not realised she was holding. Why was she feeling like this?
Olivia spent the evening trying to watch Television in order to relax. It had the opposite effect. She chastised herself for not taking the opportunity to go out.
She got up off the couch and wandered around the lounge looking at the picture books and things on display in Liv’s house that she had once been convinced was her own. She wondered how all of these things could seem so familiar and so alien at the same time.
Olivia was accustomed to having things clearly defined, clearly categorised into black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. However, recently, that structure had begun to crumble around her, rendering everything a large confusing smudge of grey.
Finally, at close to midnight, Olivia settled on the couch with a pillow and blanket she had retrieved from the drying cupboard. She decided to lie down and get some rest even though she knew sleep was not likely to come soon.
At 2am Olivia heard the key in the front-door. As it opened, she was about to say something to let Liv know that she need not sneak around because she was still awake. But before she could, she heard barely hushed voices and what sounded like Liv giggle. Olivia froze, pretending to be asleep. To her surprise the second voice was male. As far as Olivia knew there was no current stable relationship in Liv’s life. Could Liv seriously, under the circumstances, have brought home a one night stand?
From where she was lying, Olivia could clearly make out the two intertwined figures in the half-light coming from the bedside-light Liv had left on before she left. They were kissing and fondling and hushing each other in that way that people do when they are too drunk to realised that the hushing makes more noise that anything else. It was clear that Liv was leading him to her bedroom.
Again, whether Liv was too drunk or on account of not caring, she failed to close the double-doors to the bedroom, leaving Olivia a clear view of her bed from her position on the three-seater couch.
Olivia tried to close her eyes and drown out the noise. But it seemed that just flooded her imagination with more vivid alternatives and before she knew it she was watching again. In fact, she was riveted. She watched them hurriedly rip each other’s clothes off. Liv lay back across the bed and let the man get on top of her. Obviously the early evening’s activities served sufficiently as an appetiser and they were both really keen to get down to the main course. In a few brief seconds he was obviously inside her. It seemed odd to Olivia. She did not imagine Liv ever having such a passive role in bed.
The way that Liv and her lover were positioned across the bed gave Olivia a clear, unobstructed view of what was happening.
She became mesmerised by the rhythmic bouncing of Liv’s small breasts as her lover increased his thrust and tempo. Very soon the sight before her had managed to turn Olivia on too. Liv’s features in the throws of ecstasy was exquisite. She wondered if she looked like that when she made love. She resisted the undeniable urge to touch herself, but as she saw Liv escalate towards the peak of what was going to be a powerful orgasm, Olivia gave in. She was so wet and realised she could easily come too.
But, for what happened next, she was definitely not prepared.
As Liv reached the crescendo of her arousal and was about to come, she turned, opened her eyes and seemed to look directly at Olivia.
Panic gripped Olivia. Did Liv know she was awake and watching? But, it was too late. She was on the crest of an orgasm of her own and from the darkness she stared back into her mirror image. The sheer intensity of the moment pushed her over the edge, both tumbling into the abyss of pleasure at the same time.
Those that know me… know I am the last person to get involved in politics. I have never really had much time for power spats and peacocking, perhaps because I have a cynicism about how much politics can be influenced by an ‘lowly’ individual like myself. I am not knocking or diminishing the efforts of those who have changed the world with one voice like Mandella, Mother Theresa, The Dali Lama and so forth. In fact, I am acknowledging how incredible and mystifying I find their awesome achievements.
I am more of a person who believes that, if I want to change the world, I have to change myself and then kind of hope that others think it is a good idea to follows suit. So, I am usually very happy to let more able bodies pick up the political ropes and get on with it.
However, on this occasion, regarding the referendum, I will say this…
It is not political, as in something out there in the world… This very personal!
Sometimes our friends go through rough times. Sometimes they are skint or need to bunk out on our couch. Sometimes they even treat us badly. But because they are our friends, we buy them that pint, we sit up till 3am listening to their woes and share your last square of loo-roll to dry their tears. We pick them up when they need us and we love them because we know we are not perfect either, and we hope that when the time comes and we need someone to laugh or cry with or to stand shoulder to shoulder, they will be there in the best way they can.
Why? Because they are our friends. Because that is what friends do.
Or…
We become Billy-no-mates — rich, well rested, unencumbered, probably with rolls of our precious Pounds to use for loo-roll — but out in the cold and alone!
This is a tribute to one of my favourite series of all time. Thanks FOX! I own nothing! If you like it.. please follow me and leave a review.
Olivia is unexpectedly instructed to remain in the Alt Universe while they work on the most dangerous case of her life. In order to minimise complications resulting form having two Agent Dunhams roaming the streets, Broyels instructs her to spend the weekend with AltOlivia (Liv). – Femslash (f/f) Olivia/Alt-Livia .. Rated M for later chapters.
Phillip Broyles got up and took over from Walter to address the team. “It is evident that stopping David Robert Jones from tearing the two universes apart is going to be more difficult than we thought. The bridge is a huge potential liability. It is far from safe right now, so I want all crossovers minimised.”
“Okay, Sir, if you insist, but do you have anywhere for us to stay?” Olivia, said.
“Agent, I think, under the unique circumstances you need to stay with Agent Dunham.”
“But, Sir—”
“That will be all.” Broyles addressed the room. “Enjoy your weekend.” He picked up his paperwork and headed for the door.
Olivia caught up with him, with Liv hot on her heals.
“Sir, can I have a word please,” Olivia said.
Broyles turned on his heal to face them both. “No, Agent Dunham. I know what you’re going to say and I’m afraid that is the only option. We do not want to awaken suspicion. I only want one of you,” he pointed at both Olivia and Liv, “visible in public at a time. This way you will be able to co-ordinate.”
“Yes, Sir,” Olivia said.
They both stood and watched Broyles leave, secretly hoping he would turn back and change his mind.
Finally Olivia turned to face her doom.
“The car is this way,” Liv said and headed to the other door.
The journey in the car was frosty to say the least. Neither one of them could think of anything to say. At least they had the preference for silence in common, Olivia thought.
Olivia was not thrilled about this mission in the first place. Now having to remain on this side had truly added insult to injury, never mind the horrific prospect of spending more than 48 hours in the company of her nemesis. She would have volunteered, in a flash, to go toe to toe, singlehandedly, with David Robert Jones, if that meant she could get out of this awkward situation.
Through the corner of her eye Olivia watched Liv driving – changing gears seamlessly and casually cautious in a way that Olivia recognised as her own style of driving, be it that Liv drove a bit more aggressively, and a little too fast, for Olivia’s liking. She was obviously equally in a hurry to get the drive over with. Olivia assumed Liv was not keen on the idea of spending a weekend cooped up with her either.
They entered Liv’s flat. “The couch and living room is yours for your stay,” she said heading straight to the kitchen, “and for your information I am not thrilled about this either.”
Olivia nodded and, not really knowing what else to do, followed Liv into the kitchen.
Liv switched on the kettle.
“I assume you want coffee. Personally, I prefer something a little stronger after a day like today.” Liv took out a bottle of whiskey she kept between her cups in the overhead cupboard and poured herself a large tot in a chipped mug. “Help yourself,” she said. Not bothering to put the whiskey away or even close the cupboard door, she picked up her mug and carelessly brushing past Olivia on her way, left the kitchen.
Olivia watched her go. A gulp or two of the auburn liquid seemed like a decidedly better idea than coffee right now.
From the beyond the lounge Olivia could hear Liv call. “Do you want to go out tonight?”
Olivia made the mistake of peering around the corner to hear her better.
Liv had not bothered to close the frosted glass double-doors to her bedroom where she was taking large swigs of her whiskey and starting to strip off.
“If not, I’m sure you don’t mind if I do,” Liv continued. It was more a statement than a question.
Olivia watched as Liv removed her shirt and bra. Her skin was seemed slightly freckled like her own and Olivia could see her toned back and shoulder muscles contract as she moved.
Once Liv started pulling down her trousers, Olivia averted her eyes swiftly, feeling embarrassed.
“No. You can go,” she managed to reply, her voice croaky. Despite feeling guilty she could not help looking towards the bedroom again. After all, she is the one who left the door open. It probably would not bother her anyway, Olivia thought.
“Good, because I think I would go mad just sitting here all night,” Liv said, continuing to strip off completely and walk on into the bathroom which was on the other side of the bedroom, still clearly in Olivia’s eye-line.
She could see Liv’s perfectly toned naked form as she casually stepped into the shower. In fact, the shape and competent athletic movement of her body was mesmerising. She continued to watch even though the hot steam and condensation on the clear glass soon made it impossible see anything. When the sound of running water finally stopped, Olivia ducked back into the kitchen.
Her heart was pounding in her ears. She felt like she was about to be caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The large whiskey bottle caught her eye. It now looked much more appealing than her customary black coffee. She grabbed a mug and help herself to a large splash like Liv had done earlier. She thirstily gulped down a big mouthful of the burning liquid.
Olivia took her mug and headed into the lounge. It was neat, with minimalist decor, identical to her own, not a place that inspired comfort and relaxation. She surmised that Liv probably did not spend much time in her lounge either between the long working-hours and a mutual preference for going out, rather than staying in. In her case, she would probably head to the gym to unwind in a healthy fashion. Obviously Liv had other ways to do the same.
Olivia chose her seat carefully making sure her back was mostly turned towards Liv’s bedroom. Here she sat and tried to focus on the mug of whiskey and taking small measured sips. In her peripheral vision she could still see movement as Liv prepared to go out.
Finally Liv came out of the bedroom. Her hair hung casually around her shoulders. She was wearing a fitting black top which revealed her toned upper body and black cargo-trousers. “As you are familiar with the place already,” Liv said grabbing her coat from the coat-rack and putting it on, “I trust you will find what you need. There is a blanket and pillow in the cupboard and I have some frozen meals in the freezer. Help yourself.”
Olivia nodded, not risking speech, in case her voice betrayed her.
Without even a last glance back, Liv opened the door and was gone.
This is a tribute to one of my favourite series of all time. Thanks FOX! I own nothing! If you like it.. please follow me and leave a review.
Olivia is unexpectedly instructed to remain in the Alt Universe while they work on the most dangerous case of her life. In order to minimise complications resulting form having two Agent Dunhams roaming the streets, Broyels instructs her to spend the weekend with AltOlivia (Liv). – Femslash (f/f) Olivia/Alt-Livia .. Rated M for later chapters.
For Adults ONLY!
Chapter 1
Phillip Broyles got up and took over from Walter to address the team. “It is evident that stopping David Robert Jones from tearing the two universes apart is going to be more difficult than we thought. The bridge is a huge potential liability. It is far from safe right now, so I want all crossovers minimised.”
“Okay, Sir, if you insist, but do you have anywhere for us to stay?” Olivia, said.
“Agent, I think, under the unique circumstances you need to stay with Agent Dunham.”
“But, Sir—”
“That will be all.” Broyles addressed the room. “Enjoy your weekend.” He picked up his paperwork and headed for the door.
Olivia caught up with him, with Liv hot on her heals.
“Sir, can I have a word please,” Olivia said.
Broyles turned on his heal to face them both. “No, Agent Dunham. I know what you’re going to say and I’m afraid that is the only option. We do not want to awaken suspicion. I only want one of you,” he pointed at both Olivia and Liv, “visible in public at a time. This way you will be able to co-ordinate.”
“Yes, Sir,” Olivia said.
They both stood and watched Broyles leave, secretly hoping he would turn back and change his mind.
Finally Olivia turned to face her doom.
“The car is this way,” Liv said and headed to the other door.
The journey in the car was frosty to say the least. Neither one of them could think of anything to say. At least they had the preference for silence in common, Olivia thought.
Olivia was not thrilled about this mission in the first place. Now having to remain on this side had truly added insult to injury, never mind the horrific prospect of spending more than 48 hours in the company of her nemesis. She would have volunteered, in a flash, to go toe to toe, singlehandedly, with David Robert Jones, if that meant she could get out of this awkward situation.
Through the corner of her eye Olivia watched Liv driving – changing gears seamlessly and casually cautious in a way that Olivia recognised as her own style of driving, be it that Liv drove a bit more aggressively, and a little too fast, for Olivia’s liking. She was obviously equally in a hurry to get the drive over with. Olivia assumed Liv was not keen on the idea of spending a weekend cooped up with her either.
They entered Liv’s flat. “The couch and living room is yours for your stay,” she said heading straight to the kitchen, “and for your information I am not thrilled about this either.”
Olivia nodded and, not really knowing what else to do, followed Liv into the kitchen.
Liv switched on the kettle.
“I assume you want coffee. Personally, I prefer something a little stronger after a day like today.” Liv took out a bottle of whiskey she kept between her cups in the overhead cupboard and poured herself a large tot in a chipped mug. “Help yourself,” she said. Not bothering to put the whiskey away or even close the cupboard door, she picked up her mug and carelessly brushing past Olivia on her way, left the kitchen.
Olivia watched her go. A gulp or two of the auburn liquid seemed like a decidedly better idea than coffee right now.
From the beyond the lounge Olivia could hear Liv call. “Do you want to go out tonight?”
Olivia made the mistake of peering around the corner to hear her better.
Liv had not bothered to close the frosted glass double-doors to her bedroom where she was taking large swigs of her whiskey and starting to strip off.
“If not, I’m sure you don’t mind if I do,” Liv continued. It was more a statement than a question.
Olivia watched as Liv removed her shirt and bra. Her skin was seemed slightly freckled like her own and Olivia could see her toned back and shoulder muscles contract as she moved.
Once Liv started pulling down her trousers, Olivia averted her eyes swiftly, feeling embarrassed.
“No. You can go,” she managed to reply, her voice croaky. Despite feeling guilty she could not help looking towards the bedroom again. After all, she is the one who left the door open. It probably would not bother her anyway, Olivia thought.
“Good, because I think I would go mad just sitting here all night,” Liv said, continuing to strip off completely and walk on into the bathroom which was on the other side of the bedroom, still clearly in Olivia’s eye-line.
She could see Liv’s perfectly toned naked form as she casually stepped into the shower. In fact, the shape and competent athletic movement of her body was mesmerising. She continued to watch even though the hot steam and condensation on the clear glass soon made it impossible see anything. When the sound of running water finally stopped, Olivia ducked back into the kitchen.
Her heart was pounding in her ears. She felt like she was about to be caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The large whiskey bottle caught her eye. It now looked much more appealing than her customary black coffee. She grabbed a mug and help herself to a large splash like Liv had done earlier. She thirstily gulped down a big mouthful of the burning liquid.
Olivia took her mug and headed into the lounge. It was neat, with minimalist decor, identical to her own, not a place that inspired comfort and relaxation. She surmised that Liv probably did not spend much time in her lounge either between the long working-hours and a mutual preference for going out, rather than staying in. In her case, she would probably head to the gym to unwind in a healthy fashion. Obviously Liv had other ways to do the same.
Olivia chose her seat carefully making sure her back was mostly turned towards Liv’s bedroom. Here she sat and tried to focus on the mug of whiskey and taking small measured sips. In her peripheral vision she could still see movement as Liv prepared to go out.
Finally Liv came out of the bedroom. Her hair hung casually around her shoulders. She was wearing a fitting black top which revealed her toned upper body and black cargo-trousers. “As you are familiar with the place already,” Liv said grabbing her coat from the coat-rack and putting it on, “I trust you will find what you need. There is a blanket and pillow in the cupboard and I have some frozen meals in the freezer. Help yourself.”
Olivia nodded, not risking speech, in case her voice betrayed her.
Without even a last glance back, Liv opened the door and was gone.
I have been asked quite frequently why I decided to create the Lesbian Erotic Stories COMBO Collection. Why did I feel the need to rewrite the stories of already great little short films?
Well, the answer is this. These films, like many others, not least a number of lesbian films, have been subjected to the “kiss CUT TO: The morning after” syndrome.
There are many reasons for this I am sure. I suspect is because:-
1) Writing sex scenes is rather difficult. I certainly am only just learning and starting to experiment with how to do it. Filming a good sex scene is even harder.
2) Filming sex scenes is often prohibitively expensive and certainly not often viable for a short film.
3) By leaving it blank the writer or filmmaker opts out of taking any stand. They tactfully allow the readers or audience to fill in the blanks in ways that are personal and suit each individual.
These are all very valid reasons and often the story does not require a detailed extrapolation on the sex scenes.
However, by taking this as default position I believe we miss out on an opportunity to give a view, to engage in a discourse on a topic which is essentially a part of our identity, our sexuality.
“Lesbians” and “sex” are not often mentioned in the same sentence in any non pornographic/more serious capacity unless it is a discussion on “Lesbian bed death”.
I exaggerate. True!
However, my point is, in my experience, lesbians and lesbian life-style is not commonly associated with adventurous sexual activity. In fact, it is quite commonly believed that most lesbians lead a more or less platonic life with their life-partners, favouring intellectual, spiritual or pure emotional connections with their significant other…. right in between digging up a flower bed in their communal allotment or brewing an herb tea. 😉
Gay men on the other hand, have a completely contrary reputation and very little is talked about the more lasting, deeply emotional connections between gay men and their life partners. But more about that later.
I am often told that there is no reason to fill in the blanks and that most explicit depictions of sex is gratuitous. I believe differently. There should be a good balance. I believe it is important that lesbian sexuality is visible, presented, discussed and enjoyed.
So what is it then? What do lesbians do in bed?
I am sure there are probably as many variations in lesbian sex as there are women on the planet, if not more.
🙂
So, with the L.E.S COMBO Collection I try to fill in the blanks by giving A VIEW of what could possibly happen in the absent CUT TO scenes. I also hope to demonstrate a sex scene can be an essential part of the story—without it the story is only half told. It was my hope to fundamentally change/augment/provide a twist to each of these stories in someway, by the addition of a meaningful sex scene.
What do you think? Did I succeed?
If you’d like to watch the films and read the stories they can be found here:
Cat Sitting
L.E.S Combo I
A sexy lesbian romance of Loss, Lust & Love.
Sometime after a messy breakup, Alex finally agreed to do the cat sitting for her ex-lover, Teresa. She knew her first visit back to what she used to call ‘home’ would not be easy. However, she could never have imagined such an unexpected turn of events! =)
Saying Sorry (On Pre-order Now)
L.E.S Combo II
A sexy lesbian story of Love, Anger and Forgiveness.
Having screwed-up again, Jo finds there is no easy way to say sorry. Repentance and forgiveness is a two-way interaction and the journey is not always easy, nor predictable. Each person needs to find their own way to the same end.
So, for those of you that don’t know, the 12th of May is quite an important day. For starters, it comes after “Twilight Zone Day” on the 11th and before “Blame Someone Else Day”, would you believe, on the 13th.
It is not only “Limerick Day” and the beginning of the Queen’s 90th Birthday celebrations, but also happens to be the birthdate of Florence Nightingale.
To most of us, in the Western World at least, Florence and her amazing impact on health care is quite well known, perhaps not as well known as the Queen, but nevertheless. We mostly understand why she is so important and why there would be a number of statues, hospitals, stained glass windows and other laudations in her honour scattered around London, Derby and the rest of the UK, including seeing her face on a £10 bank note for a few years.
Through the number of films, theatre productions, and our standard education we may know that she came to prominence while “serving as a manager of nurses trained by her during the Crimean War, where she organised the tending to wounded soldiers” and that she “gave nursing a highly favourable reputation and became an icon of Victorian culture”, especially as ‘The Lady with the Lamp‘ while making rounds to tend to wounded soldiers at night.
She has even been heralded as a pioneer in the concept of medical tourism as a result of her 1856 letters describing spas in the Ottoman Empire. She detailed the health conditions, physical descriptions, dietary information, and other vital details of patients whom she directed there due to the treatment there being significantly less expensive than in Switzerland.
Even though we mostly associate sanitary reform in the UK with Edwin Chadwick, a few of us know that Florence Nightingale was instrumental in getting the Public Health Acts of 1874 and 1875 passed that required owners of existing properties to pay for connection to mains drainage. She also combined with Edwin Chadwick to persuade Stansfeld, the minister responsible for the Public Health Bill, to devolve powers to enforce the law to Local Authorities, eliminating central control by medical technocrats.
We might even know her as a trail blazing statistician and that she was elected the first female member of the Royal Statistical Society and later became an honorary member of the American Statistical Association.
Even though we might disagree on whether she was a positive or a negative force for early feminism, we can all agree she was not insignificant in the history thereof and that “Cassandra”, the best known essay of an 829-page, three-volume work, which Nightingale had printed privately in 1860, which until recently was never published in its entirety, is regarded as a major text of English feminism.
According to more modern metrics, in 2002, Florence Nightingale was ranked #52 in the BBC’s list of the 100 Greatest Britons following a UK-wide vote.
However, what very few of us do know, is that from the age of 37 until she died at 90 years of age, she suffered from chronic depression and potential PTSD. She also spent long periods of time completely bedridden as a result of potential undiagnosed brucellosis and associated spondylitis thought to have been contracted by ingesting unpasteurised milk or undercooked meat during the Crimean War.
And then there is the question of her personal and private life. What little we know has been presented to us through the filter of a repressed and conservative male dominated heterosexual world—presenting views that we only very recently have dared to question.
“Some scholars of Nightingale’s life believe that she remained chaste for her entire life, perhaps because she felt a religious calling to her career.” Does this not perhaps sound like a suffocated interpretation of a potentially very different reality. A reality society could not speak of then. Could it be possible that her “several important and long-lasting friendships with women” were of a more significant and perhaps less chaste nature? Could Mary Clare Moore or Mary Clarke have been her life long loves or even her lovers?
Could her seemingly damning judgement of women: “I have never found one woman who has altered her life by one iota for me or my opinions,” not be seen as slightly too dramatic for a rational assessment but more likely her emotional response to a woman’s scorn?
Could the fact that she often referred to herself in the masculine, as “a man of action” and “a man of business” potentially suggest that she regarded herself on the spectrum of transgender or as “non-binary” at the very least?
Even if we will never know the truth, the prospect that any of these are possibilities exist, as well as her formidable achievements in her life and her vast legacy is what has made her such an interesting character to me. This is why I chose to pay tribute to her in my latest novel, Simulation (Simulation: The Dawn of a Lesbian Superhero).
One of the main characters in the novel is a very intelligent highly successful medical scientist, Dr Victoria Henderson, who was partly modelled on Florence and the archetype she represents.
The obvious comparisons in intellect, field of work and achievement is only the beginning.
Like Nightingale, Henderson is “a man of action” – A pragmatic, over achieving, seemingly slightly repressed, woman with a “masculine” mind, who keeps the company of men because they only engage her mentally and analytically which helps her to avoid needing to face the demons straining within.
Additionally, I also loved the imagery and symbolism embodied in the idea of “The lady with the lamp”, the person with holds the knowledge and the key to…. salvation? (substitute your own aspiration here) In fact, I found the dynamism of this theme so compelling that I allowed it to develop from a single lantern into the the formidable lamp of the lighthouse and even its extreme incarnation as a blazing fire–too much knowledge can burn?
If you would like to read my book you can get your copy here:
Simulation: The Dawn of a Lesbian Superhero (Novel)
The Lighthouse Chronicles: Book 1
A lesbian superhero romance.
Set in a dystopian future when, after a decade of war, the United Kingdom is on it’s knees, ruled by strict martial law and where any ‘deviant’ behaviour like homosexuality or lesbianism is punishable in a manner worse than death–the perpetrators are forcefully ‘reset’. Samantha Fielding, an emotionally scarred war hero, struggles to adapt to ‘normal’ life so she enlists in a top secret scientific research program. Here, not only is she pushed way beyond her physical and emotional limits in order to unleash powerful and potentially lethal dormant human abilities, she also finds herself dangerously falling for the principal scientist, Dr Victoria Henderson – risking everything.
Yes, I am Sam. I am new to blogging but really quite excited about it. This will be my first post and as I know from life’s experience so far, I will try not to suck at this new activity, too much, as I find my feet.
So, as a starting point, I thought I would answer a few of the most frequently asked questions I get from readers when they find out or have read my new book for the first time.
1) Why did I write ‘Simulation: The Dawn of a Lesbian Superhero?’
Well, since I was an teenager I always liked science fiction & fantasy stories, particularly if it involved a strong female main character—a kick-ass female hero. Up until quite recently there were not many stories like this around. Finding a lesbian kick-ass hero was even more rare. So I came up with a few stories of my own and this is basically the first one that I have finally, officially, put on paper so far.
It is my dream to create stories that show women, lesbians, living exciting lives, embarking on exciting proactive empowered adventures!.. (rather than jumping off buildings, committing suicide or, their entire worlds revolving around coming out or finding Miss/Mrs Right ;-). Don’t get me wrong, since we are talking about lesbians here, these elements will probably might an appearance, but I aim not to make them the center of attention. Let’s face it, we are rather more multi-dimensional as human beings and that is what is so exciting!
Yes, Simulation is a love story but that is in essence a significant added complication under these circumstances, rather than the sole purpose of this story.
And, in the future chronicles, I certainly have a few more exciting adventures planned for Sam and Victoria.
2) Will Sam ever get to wear a Superhero mask and a cape?
{{Author laughs}} This is not meant to be your traditional Superhero comic. In fact, it is not a comic at all. It is kind of, if you like, a new romance-superhero genre. If anything I would love to see it get made into a film. {{Author dreams}}
As for the cape… well, I think we all wear masks and capes all the time, you just can’t see them. So, yes, so does Sam.
3) How did you come up with the story?
I had originally written this story as a film script and I am positive it would make a wonderful movie. But, then I get a little wiser about the economics of film making and realised that the budget for a film that would need special effects is a little out of my (and my film maker friend’s) reach. So rather than waiting around for this script to gather dust in my desk draw I decided to write it as a novel.
And yes, I am still hopeful about the film, except now my readers can enjoy it in the meantime and create their own movies in their heads, until we figure out a way to really make this movie.
4) Is it true that a large part of this story is based on fact?
It is true that this story is often inspired by facts and truths. It might be exactly the truth, but there are surprising elements of truth and facts that have inspired this story.
I love doing that. I love the idea that there are sometimes quite surprising elements of fact and reality in a fiction narrative. My future blogs will tell you a bit more about these.
5) How can your readers find out about the next book in The Lighthouse Chronicles?
I would suggest that you join our VIP Members Mailing List here: http://dukebox.life/free-gift-buttons/
Our VIP Members will be the first to hear about when the next book in this series will be coming out, any other exciting new releases, specials or promotions that come out. Not only that, we have a little exciting free gift for all our subscribers: Access to a great sexy AWARD WINNING short film that I think you might really enjoy, called ‘Buttons’.
For Adults ONLY!
“May the forth be with you!!” 🙂
Hi Everyone,