The Ruination of Ramona Stone
Victorian Lesbian Romance
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Should anyone discover their secret passion, they would both be ruined.
To Victorian London, they were childhood friends reunited by tragedy. Behind closed doors, they were each other’s undoing. Ramona Stone survived the bleak years at boarding school because of bright-eyed Juliet—her childhood anchor and her dearest confidante. While Juliet marries for love, Ramona accepts the husband her father has arranged, an ambitious barrister twice her age. When an accident leaves Juliet a penniless widow, Ramona persuades her husband to grant her friend shelter. Proximity kindles unexpected passion; sympathy turns to illicit desire. What begins as solace quickly transforms into a force that neither woman can resist or deny. Trapped with a domineering husband, living in a society eager for scandal, Ramona understands that every touch is a gamble and every glance a betrayal. If their secret comes to light, she won't just lose her place in society—she will lose the only love that she’s ever known. Buy Links |
Excerpt“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “This is impossible.” “Never mind, Juliet.” I half-pulled her back onto the seat. “We will be back home before long.” “With all the servants, plus your son. Not to mention your husband.” She turned to face me, her eyes gleaming in the light from the side lamps. “I need you, Ro. I need to touch you, to taste you. If I cannot make love to you again, I swear I shall go mad.” Love? Was that what this was? Last night I’d thought it sheer depravity. Now I began to wonder whether the force drawing us together might be more than mere animal lust. Juliet sounded as though she was on the verge of tears. “Hush, my dear,” I murmured, drawing her into my arms. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to be together.” I pressed my lips to her cool forehead, then tilted her chin up. Our eyes met, and then our mouths. Her lips were hot despite the damp and the chill weather. They moulded to mine as though we were fused. We drank deep of each other’s essence, sampling the flavours, savouring the textures. Juliet poured her desire into that kiss. I drank in every ounce, filling my body and spirit. Kissing was all we could manage, but for the moment, kissing was enough. It went on and on, as the carriage made its way through the London streets. We simply could not let each other go. We would take brief pauses for breath, then dive back into the ecstatic mouth-to-mouth connection. In the shadowed privacy of the coach, we lost ourselves in a glorious fantasy of togetherness and freedom, forgetting that what we desired was forbidden. We broke apart like sleepers roused from a dream when the brougham halted at my townhouse. Gas lights shone in through the window glass to illumine Juliet’s exquisite countenance. I realised that her cheeks were wet with tears. With my thumb, I wiped them away. “Don’t cry, my darling,” I whispered. “I’ll come to you, to your room. Tonight, when everyone is asleep. Tonight we can be together.” I wanted so much to heal her sorrow, I completely forgot my own shame. |
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