MENCENARY HEART
Mercenary Heart is a Scifi romance, but it is so much more. It is a testimony to families—in their many forms. It is young woman’s search for identity. It is a political statement against human trafficking. It begins with a group of rough mercenaries and transforms them into heroes.
After discovering a newborn amidst the destruction of battle, Miklus Armstrong and is group of mercenaries decide to purchase a shipping business and give up their warring ways. But sometimes life isn’t so simple. Mik and the group are in for a wild ride before they get to settle down to the simple life on Bright’s Planet.
In this excerpt, Mike meets the young woman who has left the comfort of her mundane life to seek adventure as a nanny, far from her home planet:
At first Mik did not notice the small woman who stood beside the escape pod. Her long skirts were the same silver gray as the ship. Her dark hair was pulled severely away from her face, secured in a large bun that seemed almost too heavy for her delicate neck. Once he did spot her, he stopped mid sentence in the one-sided conversation he was having with the baby. He expected a man originally, and once he found out his passenger was a woman, he expected her to be rough. Perhaps even mannish. This ethereal creature was nothing of the sort. Mentally shaking himself, he stepped closer to the woman. “Welcome aboard the Freebird. I’m her captain, Miklus Armstrong.”
“Who?” Her voice was as airy as her appearance, soft and melodic.
“Miklus Armstrong,” he repeated. Undoubtedly, his reputation reached even her delicate ears. His ego expanded.
“You can’t be!” Her soft voice was replaced by one any general would envy.
His ego deflated like a ruptured balloon. “And just why can’t I be?”
“Miklus Armstrong is a merchant. He has a homestead in the Dianthan system. I’m to be his daughter’s nanny and companion. And you,” her eyes ran over him from head to toe, “you are not an ordinary merchant.” Just then, she spotted Tessa. Her voice softened and took on a soothing quality. “But if you are he, this must be the child. Isn’t she beautiful?” Gently she touched Tessa on the arm. The baby immediately reached her arms toward the newcomer. Mik frowned.
“May I hold her, captain?”
“Hell no you can’t hold her!” His shout startled both females. He wasn’t sure, but they both appeared about to cry. Trying to get a grip on himself, Miklus lowered the tone of his voice. Considering he still sounded like he was addressing a convicted felon, it did not help much. “Look, lady. I don’t know you. I don’t let strangers handle my kid. And I certainly don’t remember hiring someone barely out of the schoolroom to care for her.”
Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths and began again. “My name is
Shesshie Kosmato. I was raised and later employed at the orphanage on Rekjavik. When your request came in for a nanny, I decided to take the position myself. I have been living at that facility for more than eighteen years, and frankly, I wanted a new start. If you feel I am not qualified, I suggest you contact the administration there. My references are impeccable.” Warming to her subject, she started in again, “I may not be very old, Mr.—”
“Captain.”
She inclined her head in acknowledgement. Captain “Armstrong, but I am very good at what I do.”
“And what, exactly, is it that you do, Miss Kosmato?”
“I care for children, captain.”
“Assuming all this is true, because I do intend to check out your story, just what made you think you had the job?”
“I was the staff member who was directed to recommend someone to you. I
recommend myself, captain.”
MERCENARY REDEMPTION
The characters introduced in Mercenary Heart return with another exciting adventure in Mercenary Redemption. This time Devona DiMitri—the weapons expert—and Kevnor Gaaus—the communications officer—take center stage. Dev discovers that she is the long lost heir to the throne of Iman. The only problem with that is that Kev’s planet, Baux, has been at war with Iman for centuries. When Devona is forcibly returned to Iman, Kevnor sets out to save his lady, even if it means stopping interplanetary war.
Alone aboard the Freebired, Dev and Kev are surrounded by hostile ships:
“How the hell’d they find us?” She frowned, thinking. “First Harry, now these guys.” Looking over at Kev she admitted, “Something’s not right here.”
“Tracer,” they said at the same time.
“Draco,” Dev shook her head. “I went to Epsilon III like some kind of a green recruit. That bastard Harry kept me occupied while his men sabotaged my ship and put a tracer on it.” Hot tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. “For all my bragging, I am not captain material.”
Heart aching at her comments Kev reassured her, “It could have happened to anyone. You were alone, looking for a crew. You had to take a chance. Besides, you didn’t know about the new bounty, right?”
Mollified, she shook her head. “No. Not until Harry told me. But still, I should have been more careful. Mik would have been.”
“Mik’s been doing this for a long time. Since we were children, really. He’s always been in charge. Don’t beat yourself up, honey.”
The first volley of fire hit them. “Minor damage to the shield on the port side,” the computer informed.
“Fire at will,” Kev said unnecessarily. Dev had already returned fire on the offending vessel.
“Direct hit on the ship at three o’clock. Damage to shields,” The computer kept them appraised.
Dev placed her shots like the master strategist she was. Kev maneuvered the ship to give her maximum advantage. With damage to their port side, Kev kept the Bird pivoting left so the starboard took most return fire. That worked for a while, till the shields to starboard began to weaken. Dev’s maniac firing had disabled the crafts at twelve and eight and the other three maneuvered slightly to compensate. The ship at three moved to a one o’clock position and the craft at ten moved to nine. Incoming fire was nonstop. The Bird was fighting a gallant but losing battle and everyone knew it.
“If I do nothing else, I’m taking out Reardon’s ship before we surrender,” Dev promised. “Where’d that little bastard get a cruiser of that caliber anyway?” Ion cannon fire breached his forward shields and she followed quickly with photon torpedoes. “Gotcha!” she yelled as she destroyed Reardon’s bridge. “Hope you died, you bastard,” she yelled.
“Navigation inoperable,” the computer announced. “Port shields down.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dev snarled. “I hate a smart-assed computer.”
Gentle hands came to rest on her shoulders. “Honey, they’ve got us,” Kev said quietly. “If we don’t surrender they’ll demolish the Freebird and us along with her.”
Abandoning the controls, Dev clutched her belly with both hands. “I will not raise our baby in that hellhole.” Devona DiMitri, the ice queen of their graduating class it military school, unflappable fighting mercenary, disintegrated into a mere mortal in Kev’s arms. “I won’t give you up,” she whispered, clutching him around the neck, burying her tear-streaked face in the hollow between his pecs.
“No sweetheart, you aren’t giving me up. And our child will not be raised on Iman.” He soothed her with tender kisses and ran his big capable hand down her fine hair to rest on the indentation of her waist. “I swear I will follow and rescue you.” He pulled back to make eye contact. “No force in the universe will keep me from you. Do you believe that?”
She nodded, dashing the tears from her cheeks. Ashamed of her behavior she straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I can do this,” she told him. “You know I’m strong. I don’t know what came over me.”
Kev placed a hand over her stomach. “I think our child came over you. Hormones,” he suggested.
“I guess.” Sniffing she asked, “Got a plan in mind?”
“I suppose the first thing we have to do is contact Reardon.” He moved to communications and hailed Reardon’s ship. At first there was no reply, then the soot-streaked face of their former pupil came into view.
“Damn, you’re good,” was the first thing he said. That mollified Dev’s ego somewhat.
“Terms,” Kev said succinctly.
“We transport over and pick up the princess, you go free,” Reardon shrugged. “Simple.”
“Not so simple. I won’t allow your men to board our vessel,” Kev replied. “I will bring Dev over in a shuttle. When I’m assured of her safety, I’ll return to the Freebird.”
“No,” Dev interrupted. “I’ll take myself over. You stay here to guard our ship.” She had no intention of placing Kev in the position of being captured, too. What was to stop Reardon from throwing him in the brig for bounty, too?
As if reading her mind, Kev nodded. “Agreed.” He hated the idea, but he couldn’t rescue her if he, too, was incarcerated. Neither could he contact the Nest for reinforcements. To Reardon he said, “Give us half an hour to clean up and pack some clothes for her.”
“Make it a quarter hour.” The screen went black.
Running shaking fingers through his thick black hair, Kev turned to find Devona had already left the bridge. He hurried to follow her, setting the Bird’s controls to maintain position. The sight of her nearly caused his heart to break. Standing beneath the hot jets of the shower, Dev leaned against the glass wall, her face contorted with grief, her hands clutched over their child. Shedding his clothes, Kev joined her, pulling her close. They had no time for sex, but someone forgot to tell his dick, who jerked excitedly at the full body contact. Dev moaned, pulling his mouth down to hers.
“Please,” she whimpered, raising a leg to rest on his hip, “One last time, please.”
Lifting her with both hands beneath her ass, Kev slid home, filling her repeatedly with frantic thrusts. Tears washed away by the steady stream of water, they came almost immediately. “Not the last time,” he vowed. “Just the last time for a little while. I will find you. I will rescue you.” Never so determined in his life, Kev shook her gently, “Do you believe me, Dev? Do you promise to wait for me?”
She knew he was a ruthless warrior, feared on the battlefield, but she’d never seen him like this. The look on his face made her breath catch. Her lover was a very dangerous man. “I believe you and I’ll wait—as long as it takes.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the end of her nose.
COSMIC HERO
Sami Alexander has been dumped in the woods by her slimy co-worker. She has nothing to eat or drink, the temperature’s falling and the fire’s gone out. Hearing gunshots, she’s beginning to wonder if the night could get worse when it does. Dressed in a cheesy consume, her hunky savior turns out to be more than a little bit crazy, raving on about the arrival of space vampires and how mankind is doomed if she doesn’t help stop them.
A masterful piece of genetic engineering, Croghan was bred to be an Interceptor, his only purpose to seek out and eliminate Fala infestations. But he never expected to end up alone on Earth, facing a full team of the blood-sucking parasites with only one peculiar female to aid him.
Making the best of a strange situation, Sami goes along with the nut-case until she’s confronted with irrefutable proof that Earth has indeed been invaded. Clutching her Loui Voutton bag, she ultimately agrees to assist Croghan in his quest to save the Earth. If he just happens to be drop-dead gorgeous and the best kisser in the galaxy…well, who is she to argue with fate?
The following excerpt is their first encounter:
Rustling leaves had the hair rising up on her arms. Sami strained to hear. Had the wind picked up enough to blow the leaves around? She didn’t hear the tapping of the branches, so it was probably an animal, maybe a raccoon, or opossum, or even a fox. Did they have fox in Pennsylvania? She sat up, clutching the edge of the sleeping bag to her chin trying to mute the loud pounding of her heart. How freaking long had she been trapped in the tent anyway? Why oh why hadn’t she bought the cheap watch with the luminous dial instead of the fancy one? What good was a watch you couldn’t see?
Concentrating to regulate her breathing, Sami finally brought her adrenalin level down to semi normal. The campsite seemed quiet again. She allowed her muscles to relax. Then the rustling started again. This time she could detect a pattern. The noise swept parallel to the front of the tent from right to left then back again. Barely discernable was the measured tread of a heavy animal. She wished she’d paid more attention to the TV show that interviewed people who’d been mauled and survived. Did you roll up and play dead or run like hell? Moot point. She couldn’t get out of the zipped up tent to run anyway. “Lord Jesus, get me out of this place,” she whispered.
A sudden flare of light was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sami started screaming. The more she screamed the more hysteria gripped her. Flailing her arms and legs she fought for freedom, kicking at the cloth that gripped her. Her new boots had heels that attached themselves to the plaid flannel lining. The more she kicked the more embroiled she became. With a mighty effort she lurched against the restraining cloth, propelling herself into the side of the tent bringing the whole thing down on top of her. Terrified, she screamed some more.
When strong hands reached in to untangle her, pulling her free from the ghastly entrapment, Sami propelled herself against a rock hard chest and sobbed uncontrollably. “Thank God you finally got here. I was so terrified. That creep James just left me here, and I don’t know anything about Pennsylvania woods. And I don’t know where I am, and I couldn’t find any firewood, and I peed on my flashlight, so then it was pitch dark. Then those gunshots scared me. I was afraid you’d been the one killed, and then what would I do? I mean here I am in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception and no car and I don’t even have any matches, even if I could find any firewood…”
As she was urged away from the shirt she had a death grip on, a calloused hand clamped over her mouth. “Woman, who do you think I am?”
I HAD A GOOD TIME
I Had A Good Time is all about obsession. Specifically sexual obsession. If you aren’t up for explicit, this story’s not for you. After spending a night with a woman who picked him up at a bar, Tres Roberts comes face to face with his fascination for the unknown woman.
Here’s a PG17 excerpt:
Tres woke with the mother of all headaches. Squinting against the
bright sunlight trying to pierce his eyelids, he glanced at the clock.
Eleven-thirty. He groaned. He was supposed to have met the band at ten
for a practice session. He'd never hear the end of it.
"Come here, honey." Grumbling, he reached for the woman who'd
totally blown his mind last night. She wasn't in the bed. Holding his head
he sat up slowly, looking around. No sign of her except for the long neck
sitting on the bedside table, serving as a vase to a single yellow rose. The
left side of his mouth lifted in a semi-smile. He picked up the beer bottle
and sniffed the bloom, drawing in the sweet exotic scent.
Scratching his crotch, he stumbled toward the bathroom. Bracing
himself with a hand on the wall behind the toilet he stood for long
moments, sighing at the relief of an empty bladder. As he washed his
hands he spotted the note she'd left. Sprawled across his mirror was a
five-word message.
I had a good time.
The bright red letters were wavy and had run a little. Must have
used her lipstick. Tres reached a finger up and traced the I. Pulling back
he stared at his finger. Not lipstick, too wet. He sniffed. Coppery.
Frowning, he stuck his tongue to the wet red stuff, only to draw it back in
shock. Blood. He stuck his tongue under the running water and scrubbed
it with the bar of soap. Son of a bitch. Blood.
She'd told him she was kinky, but damn. Blood. Shaking his head he
stumbled toward the kitchen. He'd never been so thirsty in his life. Turning up the OJ, he drained the container. A smile tickled the corners of his mouth. He could live with a little blood if it meant more of the kind of sex he'd had last night. He wondered if she'd call him?
"Fuck." Tres slammed his fist against the counter. She hadn't even signed the note. He had no idea what her name was.
MICHAEL ANGELO
If your taste runs more to the paranormal, you’ll like Michael Angelo. Born before the great flood, Mike is the progeny of a human woman and an angel. Along with the Brethren—other half-breed angels—Mike struggles to keep evil at bay and the human race relatively safe. But occasionally evil finds its way to the human plane and must be dealt with. When beautiful young policewoman, Mary Grace Chapman, happens to be in the wrong place at the right time, Mike’s life gets much more complicated than he bargained for…
In this excerpt, Mike and his dog Mutt are riding with Mary Grace when she gets a call about a hostage situation:
“Here we are. Do you think Mutt will be okay if we leave the windows open? I wouldn’t want to leave him alone on the sidewalk. He’s so beautiful, someone might steal him.”
“They could try.” Mike scratched behind his dog’s ears. “He’ll be fine. We won’t be that long. But he’ll pout that he was left behind.”
The radio cracked and the dispatcher announced, “All units code three. Hostage situation in progress at Marshall’s Department Store.”
“Damn. That’s right here.” Mary Grace keyed the mic and replied, “Car ninety-seven responding. I’m at the scene.”
“Chapman,” the dispatcher warned, “Use extreme caution. The hostage is a child.”
Two other squad cars squealed into the parking lot, sirens and lights ablaze. “Stay here,” she said to Mike.
“Not on your life. Let us out of here.” Mike’s nostrils flared. The stench of evil was in the air. Mutt scratched at the door and whined.
“You’re a civilian. I can’t take a chance.” Mary Grace glanced at Mike, turned and ran toward the building.
“Down Mutt,” Mike ordered. Mutt crouched on the floor. With one kick the rear door flew completely off its hinges and slid across the parking lot. Man and dog leapt from the car, quickly accelerating to a full run. Not bothering to try to get past the cops, they circumvented the Marshall’s and instead ran into the Shoe Circus next door. A clerk yelled that dogs weren’t allowed as they passed through the stockroom and out the delivery entrance in the rear. Mike and Mutt turned as one and headed for the service entrance to Marshall’s. Silently, they opened the door and slid into the cool, dark interior. Raised voices could be heard from inside the store.
“I want a Humvee with a full tank and two pizzas. Pepperoni. And a large Pepsi.”
“Is that all?” Mary Grace’s voice was calm.
“No, bitch. I also want you fuckin’ cops to clear out of here and let me have some fun with this sweet little thing.” A dingy hand ran down the child’s arm.
“Not gonna happen, scum bag,” Mary Grace snapped back.
“Don’t fucking talk down to me, bitch, or I’ll kill her right now. And then I’ll let you take her place.” The man’s voice was low, menacing.
Mike breathed deeply, letting a name hiss out when he exhaled. “Althazor.” He knew this one. Had done battle with him before.
A child whimpered. Mutt lifted his head, howled and ran toward the door that opened into the linen department. Mike was hot on his heels. Mutt never reacted without direction when they were working. Mike had a very bad feeling.
Rounding the towel display, Mike skidded to a stop at the sight of a large man holding a knife to Jasmine’s throat. Mutt didn’t even slow down. He flew through the air and grabbed the arm holding the blade. Mary Grace hit one knee and drew her weapon.
“No!” Mike yelled, his voice pure magic. Compelled, Mary Grace halted, unable to move for a minute. Mutt hit the floor, teeth bared and blood dripping from his mouth. “Althazor, no,” Mike commanded.
Turning, the perpetrator looked at Mike. “So, half-breed, we meet again.” Althazor was not overly tall, but powerfully built. Dark hair hung loose about his shoulders and pale, colorless eyes surveyed his antagonist.
“Yeah. Now why don’t you let the kid go and we can go outside and settle this.”
Althazor laughed. “You’re a funny guy.” He ran his tongue up the side of Jasmine’s face. She clinched her eyes, and tears leaked down her cheeks. “You know you’re not my type.”
“She’s just a baby. You don’t want her.” Mike forced all the compulsion into his voice he could manage.
Alathazor held still for a moment then shook his head. “Nice try asshole. But you no longer hold sway over me.”
Out of the corner of his eye Mike could see Mary Grace begin to move. Great. That’s all he needed. “Let me put this another way. If you take her, I will follow you. And I will kill you this time.”
“You can try.”
“Mike, what is this? Do you know this guy?” She stepped forward.
“Mary Grace hold still. Let me handle this, please.”
“You’re overstepping your bounds. This is my collar, and I’m going to take pleasure in locking this sick-o up.”
Althazor shrugged. “Looks like I’m not going to get my Hummer. See you in the next world.” Too fast to see, he moved toward the shoe department and disappeared, taking the terrified child along.
“Where’d he go?” Mary Grace looked up and down nearby aisles.
“You won’t find him.” Mike knelt to check on Mutt. It always took longer for the dog to shake his compulsions. “But I will.”
“Like hell you will.” She was furious. “How did you get out of my car, anyway?”
“Mary Grace, I like you, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you while that demon gets a head start. Come on, Mutt, let’s go get your friend back.” Mike sketched a design in the air, motioned to his dog and began to disappear.
Mary Grace shrieked and jumped, intending to tackle the man. Instead, she found herself falling into another dimension.
THE KEEPER
Pure and simple, The Keeper has something for everyone. It’s got action, adventure, humor, romance and even bizarre creatures. If you like Scifi, you’ll love it. If you don’t like Scifi…I think you’ll love it anyway!
After surviving widespread planetary destruction, winning the girl, meeting her family and battling a rogue band of military hostiles, Taren has still more challenges before he can settle down to ruling Barrus.
This excerpt finds Taren crashing into an unknown area of the planet:
Taren held the shuttle as steady as he could, but with one wing gone and now the engine stalled it wasn’t a pretty picture. The small ship grazed the tops of some trees, careening into mucky soil at the edge of a river. Freeing himself from his constraints, he picked up a survival kit and headed for the hatch. A loud sucking noise preceded the slow decent of the shuttle. This was not good. A few moments later, standing on the top of the ship, Taren eyed the distance from the ship to the nearest stable soil. At least he hoped it was more stable than the quicksand his shuttle was sinking into. The distance was further than he’d ever jumped, but what choice did he have?
Closing his eyes to attain maximum concentration, Taren wiped everything from his consciousness and focused on the jump. He felt the ship slip a little lower and knew the time was now or never. Without prelude, he leapt.
Every muscle in his body strained toward his goal. His mental focus was so powerful that he failed to register the unevenness of the terrain, which was heavily rutted from run-off. Barely clearing the treacherous slime, his feet landed simultaneously. Unfortunately, they landed at different heights, throwing his balance off. He grabbed at the soil seeking purchase, but the ground crumbled in his hands and he slid backward toward the sucking muck. Abandoning his hold on the survival kit, he fell flat to the ground, scrambling with elbows and knees as well as feet and hands. The survival kit slid into the ooze and disappeared. Finally one foot caught on a protruding root and he lay there gasping for breath and slowing his heart rate. Flynn would have a few choice comments if he could see him now.
Methodically he made his way up the incline, testing each move before he made it. When he reached flat ground he rolled onto his back and stared up at the green canopy above him. The broad leaves of the trees were so thick the sky couldn’t be seen through them. This place must not have been disturbed at all by the cataclysm. Taren perused the trees more closely. Several looked familiar, but their size far exceeded anything he’d ever heard of. Was it possible this isolated place had stayed unaffected for long enough to nurture huge trees dripping with vines. The air was pungent with decaying leaves and the stagnant water that accumulated at the edge of the river. Around him myriad insects created a cacophony so loud it nearly masked the sound of the creature that moved stealthily through the heavy underbrush. Nearly.
Taren was instantly alert. He could see the sway of leaves as the unknown creature approached. Whatever it was, it must be quite large if the displaced foliage was any indication. Crouched on the balls of his feet, Taren searched the immediate area for anything that could be used as a weapon. Nothing was near enough. The water, however, was too close. A confrontation at this spot could end up in the quicksand. He silently moved into the vegetation and away from the water.
Out of the verdure came the strangest creature Taren had ever seen. He had never even heard of such a beast. Its body was long; at least fifty arm lengths, and like that of a snake of gigantic proportions. It supported its length on four sets of legs that were short and squat, ending in feet that boasted long claws. The head was large with a cavernous mouth lined with sharp teeth. Three eyes, many faceted, appeared to work independently of one another. Small ears were placed low on the head, and while it obviously breathed air, gill slits were located just behind the first set of legs.
Taren was no coward, but neither was he stupid. Unarmed and with no knowledge of the being he faced, his first choice would be to avoid confrontation. He stood patiently, ignoring the biting insects and prickly plants while he waited.
The thing headed directly for the water, entering with a grace that it didn’t exhibit on land. How something so massive could pass over the quicksand without sinking was a mystery. It’s head whipped back and forth as it swam, scanning the bank. Abruptly it swung to look directly at Taren. It sniffed through huge flat nostrils. Emitting a horrendous roar, it headed back for the shore.
Taren looked down to see that a three-inch thorn had pierced his stomach, and a trail of blood soaked into his pants and alerted the beast to his presence. Reflexively he sucked in his stomach. “Well frek,” he said and took off running.
MARINE BIOLOGY
Marine Biology is a short story that deals with the existence of merpeople. Isabo, who is a marine biologist, discovers a merchild ensnared in a ship’s wreckage. Staal, the child’s uncle, comes to rescue her from what he assumes is a kidnapping. It doesn’t take for the sparks to ignite between the two miss-matched lovers.
For the first time, Isabo is about to see Stall in his altered form:
Isabo chewed on her bottom lip as she waited for Staal to reemerge. He’d dived into the water as a man, and she knew when she saw him next he’d be sporting a fish tail. Damn. Rod Serling here I come.
Rising from the water a good ten feet, Staal leapt into the air, spinning and twisting in an athletic display of masculine grace before diving back into the briny.
Captivated by the beauty of him, she was surprised to see his tail was gray, not sparkling iridescent like Lorali’s.
“Come on in,” he called to her, bobbing out of the water.
Drawing in a deep breath she stepped to the side of the boat. “You’re sure I won’t freeze? I don’t have on my wet suit.”
“Honey, I promise I’ll keep you so warm you won’t need a wetsuit. Or that scrap of a bathing suit, for that matter. Why not leave it on the boat?”
Glancing down, she realized the bikini she was wearing really didn’t do much in the way of protecting her, especially not from him. Her clothes had a way of disappearing whenever Staal was near. Throwing caution to the wind, she shucked the suit and stepped into the Atlantic. By the time she swam back to the surface, gasping from the cold plunge, Staal was there, holding her so she didn’t need to tread water.
“So, what do you think?” The words were nonchalant, but she heard the underlying concern. Her opinion was important to him.
“You’re still a hunk.” She ran a palm down his side, frowning. “I can’t feel where your—tail starts.”
“Don’t be shy about it, sweet. I need you to be comfortable with me in both my forms. You can’t feel the difference because you’re expecting scales. We aren’t fish. We’re mammals. We don’t have scales. Our tails are more like that of a dolphin or a whale.”
“So how come you’re gray and Lorali’s tail was so beautiful?”
“Males have drab coloring to help them blend in with their surroundings. Females have brilliant tails to make our job of protecting them even more difficult.” He grinned at her, “Go ahead, explore all you like.”
She did. She ran her hand down his back, up his side and across his abdomen. Then she explored the front. She felt nothing but smooth skin. Raising inquisitive eyes to his face she asked, “So where do you keep your package?”
Staal laughed heartily. “I might have known that would be your main concern, you little sex pot.” He placed his own hand over hers and ran it along the front of his body. “Don’t worry. Everything’s nicely tucked away, just waiting for you to swim by.” Sure enough, he guided her hands to a long slit just a little way beneath his bellybutton. And there were the family jewels.
“So, what do you…how do you…?”
“Keep it up and you’ll find out in no time.” He pulled her into his embrace, trapping her hand between them as he devoured her mouth.
What the hell, her hand was already there. Isabo caressed him, grateful that every beloved inch was still intact.
DIMENSIONS OF LOVE
Dimensions of Love is a short story celebrating Valentine’s Day. The main characters of Michael Angelo, Mike and Mary Grace, make a reappearance in this story. Sometimes it’s nice to see just how things are going for a favorite couple.
Following is an excerpt from this tale of love:
Dabbing her napkin at the corner of her mouth, Mary Grace sat back in her chair, smiling. “That was without a doubt the most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten. Thank you, Michael.”
“My pleasure.” He signaled the waiter for their check.
Once outside he pulled her into a nearby alleyway and opened a portal, drawing her with him as he entered.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
Chagrined, Mary Grace blushed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the strangeness of sliding between dimensions.” Glancing around, she realized she was not in her bedroom as she expected. Instead she was in a grotto, the tinkling sound of cascading water catching her attention. A small waterfall ended in a shallow pool, the aquamarine water inviting her to bend down and run her fingers through the silken liquid. “It’s beautiful. Where are we?”
“Does it matter? It’s just a little place I discovered in one of my travels.” Pulling her into his arms, Mike kissed her, sliding his hands along her back to pull her closer. “We’re alone together.” Lifting her into his arms he kissed her again, tasting the inside of her mouth and nipping playfully at her swollen lips. “It’s time for dessert.”
Lost in the magic of his touch, she was oblivious to the bed until he eased her back against the soft, cool sheets. “What the…where’d this come fr—” she began, but never finished when his rough calloused hand slid up her leg, dragging the hem of her dress along to reveal the thigh-highs and the tip of her French-cut teddy.
“Shhh. Just let me have my wicked way with you.”
SUPER HERO
Novella length, Super Hero is the story of Chloe Bridges and Zack Niermeyer. Chloe is a research scientist in Japan to collaborate on a stem cell project. Zack is a US Marine. Their less than auspicious first meeting turns into a blazing love affair, until a random mugging leaves Zack paralyzed. Chloe bends the rules to try out her research on her lover. The problem is…someone has tampered with her samples!
Chloe and Zack first meet in the airport in Okinawa, where he’s been called in to investigate the biological samples she has in her carry-on:
“I spoke to Dr. Talmadge. He verified your claims that the vials in your suitcase were stem cell samples in route to the Medical Institute in Tokyo.” He opened the door to yet another room and stood back for her to precede him. “I am authorized to return your belongings to you and escort you to a hotel.”
“How gallant.”
“Careful. I might mistake that southern charm for sarcasm.”
“Your IQ may exceed your chest size after all.”
The behemoth actually laughed. The deep reverberation echoed a warning straight through Chloe. The man was dangerous to her libido. The libido she would have sworn was in a permanent state of dormancy. “I knew that scholarly look was a front.”
“Scholarly look?”
“Yeah. Eyeglasses. Bun. Shapeless dress. But I suspected all along there was a firecracker underneath all that drab.”
Chloe was momentarily speechless. Is that how I look? Is that why guys always seem to look right through me? Could my mother, the don’t-you-ever-forget-I’m-a-former-debutant, be right yet again?
Zack placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. You’re a beautiful woman. You probably wore the most comfortable thing you owned for such a long trip.”
Chloe smiled. It was not a happy smile. “Yes. I did. Now could you please take me to a hotel? I’m dead on my feet.”
Zack mentally castigated himself. How could he have blundered so badly? He hadn’t jammed his foot so far into his mouth since he first met Melissa Hanson in the eighth grade. Damn, he’d hurt her feelings. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
“You mean the scholarly part or the beautiful woman part?”
Oh, man. She was more upset than he thought. There was only one way to set the story straight. He was in uniform so he looked around to make sure they were alone and couldn’t be seen by anyone. Zack pulled Chloe up against his chest and lowered his mouth to hers.
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