Love after age 40 means skating on air….
Gigi Darnell, a beautiful African American physician, has reached her early 40s with a fabulous job, a beautiful home, and a bevy of nieces and nephews who love her. But being the best daughter, sister, and aunt doesn’t make her life complete. She wants a special woman to love who will love her in return. Then she meets Lyndsey Falk, a much younger skateboarding instructor with pale white skin and eyes the color of amber. The attraction the two women feel for each other is immediate and strong. Gigi falls hard for Lyndsey, but she fears being cut off from her nieces and nephews if she makes it clear to her family that, yes, she is indeed a lesbian and not just the reliable spinster aunt, sister, and daughter her family has come to expect. Lyndsey has an ex-girlfriend following her around who threatens to interfere.
Together, Gigi and Lyndsey learn that skating on air and being in love will require them to be more honest with those around them than they have ever been before.
Excerpt:
She led me down the hallway at the end of which was a door that opened up to a winding, narrow wooden staircase. She gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and I closed the door behind us. We walked up into the darkness at the top of the stairs; only it wasn’t completely dark once we got there. The ceiling and walls of the attic were covered with wallpaper and paint depicting a starry night sky. The stars glowed. I gasped.
“This is beautiful,” I whispered.
“Isn’t it? Elena calls it the Junebug Planetarium. Junebug is her mom’s nickname for her. She designed the wallpaper and painted the ceiling herself. She’s such a wonderfully creative person.”
The planets and stars on the ceiling had a three-dimensional realness to them that was astounding, aided by the deep blues and blacks that served as the background. Lyndsey pointed out a nebula painted on one of the walls. I felt that we had stepped into space. A small window was at the center of the wall that angled down at the front of the house. I stepped to that window and looked out at the real night sky. Then I looked back at Junebug’s planetarium and Lyndsey.
“I helped paint the ceiling, too,” Lyndsey said, the soft light filtering in through the window and the painted stars casting delicate shadows on her face.
“Did you? It looks wonderful. There should be a telescope here.”
“She does have one. She takes it out occasionally to stargaze, but I think I use it more than she does. I love this room.”
She came and stood next to me at the window. I felt her close to me. Her breath hit my ear and the right side of my neck. I could smell her faintly floral scent, maybe from a moisturizer or hair product, and, when I turned my head, she was watching me. She didn’t look away like she had done that time at the skate park when I caught her looking at me. She was an inch or two taller than me, and I leaned toward her. She leaned down a little. Our lips met, hesitantly at first, and then we were off to the races. We alternated between soft, delicate kisses and rougher, hungrier kisses. My breath came faster, in gasps, as I embraced her with one arm while I caressed her cheek and ran my fingers through her hair with my other hand. I felt her hands holding my head. Then, she slid one of her hands from the back of my head and down my back.
