Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine

Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sarian People, Places, and Words
About the Author
Publications from Bella Books, Inc


LaRenna and Krell exchanged simple nods then apprentice and master reformed as lovers: tangled, panting and groping, caressing and tasting in a frenzy of denied desires. The mental experience fulfilled, the physical, which Krell took ravenously, defied description and they reveled in the insensibility of both until LaRenna’s passionate internal cries reduced to an aural murmur that parted their mouths. Only then did they indulge in the joy of slow discovery, delighting in the repetition of what felt so true. Afterward, Krell lingered with her, stroking her face, whispering lover’s fancy about her beauty until reality and guilt swept in.
“How could I be so stupid?” Krell’s face pinched with revulsion as she pushed away.
“What?” Before LaRenna could prop on one arm Krell had risen and was dressing.
“I took something from you that I can never give back.” Krell spoke over her shoulder as she tugged on her boots. “I’ve broken every barrier, crossed every line.”
“You took nothing I wasn’t willing to give.” LaRenna, shivering from the sudden removal of companion warmth, drew into the sleep corner and sat upon the bedrolls.
“You weren’t ready to lose your virginity yet, third Kimshee, and you certainly shouldn’t have wasted such a precious commodity on the likes of me.” Krell couldn’t bear even the briefest of glances at LaRenna. She smelled like commitment. The room reeked of commitment as well—the safe, satisfying, stay at home, fresh cut flower joy of two women growing old together. It was nauseating. Krell had to leave and so left, ignoring LaRenna’s calls to return so they could discuss things. She was dirty. Krell was dirty. What they had done was insanely wrong. Yes, Kimshees had sex, but they never made love.


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Copyright© 2005 by Jeanne G’Fellers
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper
First Edition
Editor: Anna Chinappi
Cover designer: Sandy Knowles
ISBN 1-59493-017-1


For Mamaw, who was Taelach tall and strong and unconditionally loving of her eldest granddaughter.


Acknowledgements
No Sister of Mine and all the novels in The Silver Kinship series derived from my need to escape. While my reasons for escaping have changed throughout the years, the need still remains as does the drive to tell the stories of those I met during my escapes. These women live in a plane I reach simply by closing my eyes. Theirs is a less than perfect existence—perfection must be horribly boring to write about—but it is a world built upon my wildest fantasies and deepest fears, a creation that would not have come about if it hadn’t been for those dear to me, especially my mother. Thanks, Mom, for hiding a copy of this work from those who threatened to destroy it and for encouraging my writing when no one else seemed to care.
Virginia Marion and Kay Bridges have also been instrumental in developing my writing. Without their encouragement and their “You go, girl!” attitude I never would have had the strength to keep churning away at this novel and my college education.
To all those at Bella, including Linda Hill, Becky Arbogast and, of course, my editor Anna Chinappi, I say thank you for putting up with the myriad of questions from a newbie and the ecstatic, girlish squeals of a woman learning her first manuscript has been accepted.
Finally, I would like to express love and gratitude for my partner, my favorite Gunny at ease, the one I love always and all ways—Anna Koetter. Thank you for your unconditional support, for your assistance with child-wrangling, for taking the household helm when my graduate courses take place at night, and for your daily office drudgery that allows me to continue my schooling and writing. And last but certainly not least, thank you for encouraging me to submit No Sister of Mine to just one more publisher. You were right, my love, Bella is where it belonged.


Prologue
By the late twenty-third century, numerous stars in the Milky Way were known to have orbiting planets capable of sustaining life. One of these, Sixty-One Cygni, a yellow sun with a planet similar in orbit and mass to Earth, intrigued human researchers and entrepreneurs alike.
Entrepreneurs, given a head start by the unrest between the Earth and Moon/Mars Alliances, won the competition for exploration, establishing a mining colony in the mineral-rich, frozen subsurface of Sixty-One Cygni’s sixth planet, which later came to be known as Farstar. A small group of researchers soon followed and began studying the second planet in the system—then known to be inhabited by a humanoid species calling itself the Autlach. When natural disaster struck the colony, the human colonists fled to this planet to await rescue—one which never came. As time passed, they began to intermingle then interbreed with the Autlach, forever changing the genetic makeup of a society, one which was steeped in religious teachings of the deity Raskhallak. The Raskhallak teachings demanded the Autlach follow a strict canon of daily prayer and obedience. A good man ruled his family with an iron hand and taught his sons to be future rulers. His daughters were taught subservience from birth. Any deviation from their duty, any sin (so Raskhallak claimed), evidenced in the birth of an albino child. Fathers flogged their daughters for bearing such a babe; husbands destroyed the evidence, sometimes killing both mother and child to hide their embarrassment.
As heinous as this was,