Sparks Fly: An F/F Space Romance

By Llinos Cathryn Thomas

After twenty-five years of single-minded determination, Marianne Gordon has finally achieved her ambition and been promoted to Principal of the Vesper School for Zero-Gravity Artistic Display.

But her moment of triumph is cut short when she discovers that she must share her position with Josephine Knight, a celebrated zero-gravity performer who doesn’t know the first thing about teaching. Deeply insulted, Marianne does her best to carry on as though Jo isn’t there, but Jo has a way of making her presence felt.

When the future of Marianne’s beloved school is threatened, Jo may be the only person who can help – but only if Marianne can learn to let her in.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Llinos Cathryn Thomas
• Release date: Feb 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370789818

Llinos Cathryn Thomas

Llinos Cathryn Thomas comes from North Wales and lives in London with her wife and their books. She likes dragons, spaceships and cake. She writes about pretty much those same things.

Book preview

Chapter One

Marianne Gordon stood at the threshold, admiring her new office. It really was hers now – the sprawling desk, the comms display on the wall, the wide, elegant window with its unimpeded view of the stars.

She’d lost count of the number of times she’d had meetings with Robert in here whilst trying not to imagine what it would be like when she was finally in charge. Robert Hamblin had been a good enough boss, and a decent teacher, but he’d been intent on trying to relive the school’s glory days instead of listening to any of her ideas about how they could have new glory days. And some of his methods had been… frustrating.

But all of that was going to change now.

The last few days had been full of hectic preparation. She’d only just been able to squeeze in a haircut worthy of her new position by turning up at the salon first thing this morning and begging her stylist – she’d considered getting it dyed too, but she’d decided that the threads of silver shot through the chestnut would add to her gravitas. Afterward she’d hurried as much as dignity allowed through the arts quarter, ducking down side corridors to avoid the planetsider tourists moving in slow herds along the tiered central footpaths. She couldn’t blame them for stopping to stare at the starscape – she still found herself doing it on occasion.

She wouldn’t have been in such a rush if the board of governors had given her more than a few days’ notice about her appointment. She couldn’t muster much resentment at their typical disrespect though, or the increasing panic they’d put her through as she’d waited to hear their decision. She was finally getting what she’d wanted since she’d been promoted to assistant principal more than ten years ago. Hell, since she’d first become a teacher at the Vesper Station School for Zero-Gravity Artistic Display almost twenty-five years ago, perhaps even since she’d sat between her parents in the cheap seats at the Vesper Theatre, feet swinging above the floor, and seen her first glorious, unforgettable Z-GAD show, eyes wide, wanting deep in her bones to be out there in space with the performers.

And now here she was – with hair short and neat just how she liked it, shoes that gave her a little extra height, and a new outfit – ready to start the next chapter of her life, as principal and artistic director of the Vesper School.

She took one steadying breath and walked into the office, taking a seat behind the imposing desk, in the comfortable new chair she’d had express delivered – a little celebratory treat for herself, a private wish that she’d be sitting behind this desk for many years to come.

The office looked different from this perspective. She sat back a little and mentally organised it – here was where she’d put her interface and display, there was where she’d have the mini holo-projector installed to run choreography simulations, that was where she’d put her cup of coffee…

A mischievous impulse took over Marianne. She gave in to it and put her feet up on the desk. Why not? It was hers now. It wasn’t as though she planned to make a habit of it, but once wouldn’t hurt and nobody had to know. She leaned back, folding her arms behind her head, and surveyed her kingdom with deep satisfaction.

Someone in a maintenance jumpsuit entered the room backwards.

Marianne jumped, scrambled to get her feet off the desk, and banged her elbow in the process. Blood rushed to her face.

The maintenance worker was followed by a large desk on an anti-grav trolley, and another worker guiding the other end of it. They moved it to the empty space opposite Marianne’s own desk and started unloading it.

Marianne cleared her throat.

‘Oh!’ said the first worker. It was Patty, one of the mechanics who split her time between the launch bay and general maintenance. ‘Sorry, Ms Gordon. We didn’t realise you’d be in here. We won’t be a minute.’

Marianne frowned. ‘What exactly are you doing, may I ask?’

‘Just getting Ms Knight’s desk in place, ready for when she shows up. We meant to get to it before you arrived, but you know what the beginning of term’s like.’

‘… Ms Knight?’

‘Yeah, Mr Bisley said we needed to get everything ready because her shuttle docks later today. Is that not right?’

‘Bisley said that, did he?’

‘Yeah, yesterday afternoon. He called up the facilities hub to let us know about Ms Knight coming in as your new co-principal, and he said she’d need her half of the office set up before this afternoon.’

Marianne’s blood froze in her veins. ‘My… my new co-principal?’

Patty looked thoughtfully at her. ‘That is right, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Marianne, her head spinning. ‘That’s fine, sorry. I’m just a bit flustered today. First day of term and everything. You carry on.’

Patty gave her a smile and a nod, and turned back to her work. Marianne sank back, clutching the arms of her chair to keep her hands from shaking. The moment Patty and her colleague left, she turned to her comms screen and put in a call to Bisley.

* * *

Jo shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t aggravate her spine. She’d been trying for the entire nine-hour shuttle trip to Vesper Station, and so far she hadn’t found one. Her seatmate was getting less and less subtle about his annoyance with her – first it had just been sidelong glances, then he’d moved up to exasperated sighs and eyerolling – but perversely it just made her want to move around more.

Let him think what he wanted. She’d practically been dead eight weeks ago, she was entitled to be as irritating as she liked.

She probably should have taken at least some of the sound medical advice her surgeon had attempted to give her about travelling long distances. Or at the very least a painkiller. But she was practically there now, and once she arrived she’d at