The Garden in My Heart

The Garden in My Heart

A. Mistory

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Ellen is widowed and alone, and Molly, Ellen’s young neighbor, has a troubled marriage and philandering husband—two women have never needed a good friend more than these two!

When Molly devises a fiendishly cute scheme for the two women to come together, Ellen can’t resist, in spite of her wariness—Hank, Molly’s husband, has made his intentions toward Ellen well known and she’s not interested in giving him any untoward opportunities.

But as the women grow closer and closer, each of their problems overlap and entwine in wholly unexpected ways, leaving them both clinging to each other. Ellen’s troubling and revealing insights meet with Molly’s fear to reveal a secret long buried as and Molly’s husband, Hank, becomes a serious threat to their growing relationship…

The Garden In My Heart is a tale of love, and an adamant refusal to allow the world to intrude on it, a story an awakening and understanding, and hopes finally being fulfilled no matter the near horrible events that threaten new found, and heretofore forbidden, love.

 
PUBLISHED BY: eXcessica publishing
ISBN:
PUBLICATION DATE: 2009
WORD COUNT: 48494
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 5 5 5 5 5
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: WomanLove, Erotica, Romantic Fiction
KEYWORDS: lesbian, romance, erotica
 

EBOOKS BY eXcessica publishing

EBOOKS BY A. Mistory

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT A. Mistory/2009
There was no question but that something was very wrong in Molly’s marriage. Some times there was a little something that would inadvertently appear momentarily, her countenance minutely changed when she didn’t know I was looking, or maybe some word that slipped out without her realizing it. If she did catch anything, she didn’t make anything out of it.

On Friday, Molly had lasagna ready to cook, as well as bread. I made a salad and had the wine. Molly was her usual happy self, and we enjoyed our company again. On Saturday, we shopped, bought virtually nothing but lunch, and had left overs for supper. Sunday was good too, but when she was leaving, she was suddenly acting strange, deep within herself. At the door, instead of the usual hug we now enjoyed with each other, her hand went to my cheek, and the most forlorn look came over her. It was so unusual that I could only watch and wonder what was going on in her mind, or if something was troubling her. Then Molly’s other hand came to my face, and the next thing I knew she was kissing me fully, and fairly hard.

I say fairly hard because it was full, firm, and our lips were mashed, but not in a hurtful way. It wasn’t passion, but to me, from Molly’s possible point of view, desperate, but why was a question I couldn’t answer. There’s no doubt I was returning the kiss though, my first since Greg died, and again, I more than enjoyed it from the sounds I was making, my little moans of satisfaction with us being as we were. Then I knew that Molly was also moaning with whatever pleasures or needs she was feeling, or wanting being fulfilled. I even felt her tongue tentatively going lightly across my lips as if she was wanting a small taste of me, but was fearful of my displeasure. There was no displeasure on my part. Maybe I reacted favorably because it took me by surprise, and I had always loved Greg’s kisses, and for too long needed such a kiss-and it felt good, too. Quite delicious, actually.

Then as suddenly as she’d kissed me, Molly pulled back and looked wildly worried at me, her eyes darting spastically about my face, her hand as if going to her mouth.

“I’m sorry. Oh, God,” she said softly, and spun on her heels and nearly ran out the door.

I watched as she hurried away, my hand going to my mouth in wondering at what had just happened…

 
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