September Alien Book of the Month
by Starla Night
I am a lesser, a servant-world resident, a nobody.
The Blades came from space. They conquered Earth in a day.
That was long before my time.
But they left something behind.
It was an accident. A forgotten artifact. Something that wasn't supposed to react to lessers.
Something that infected me.
It's made me insatiable. I crave something I can never have – until I meet him.
The grim reaper of the conquerors.
Cloaked in assassin’s gray, metal scythes fused to his wrist-bones, he can’t stop his body from reacting to mine.
Now I – the confused, the broken, the lesser – am intertwined with the deadliest male in the universe.
And he’s just starting to realize what he's been denied…
*** From the author of the Lords of Atlantis and Onyx Dragons comes a dazzling new series full of unique alien shifters, fierce passion, and loyal warriors who find their fated mates in the stars. Each full-length book is a complete romance with an epic happily-ever-after. Claim your conqueror today!
TRIGGER WARNING: coercive situations may disturb readers who enjoy my other enthusiastically consensual series.
Here's an Excerpt
Sithe’s voice comes from the intercom. “Open the door.”
I press the button, and the door of my small cabin slides open.
His silver eyes take me in, and then he recedes into shadow. Turning his shoulder, he strides silently down the hall to the escape pods, away from the part of my ship that was damaged by pirates.
The cafeteria looks undisturbed. I must have been wrong about him cracking the hull.
Until I reach the escape pods.
A mouth like an anglerfish bites into our ship. Long jagged black teeth pierce the metal frame. A shadowed interior gusts cold air.
A gaping hole has been carved out of the hull and rests in the middle of the hallway.
That’s not going to be okay. “Wasn’t there any way to connect your ship without damaging ours?”
“Not in ten minutes.”
No apology. No reasoning. He has irrevocably damaged our cruiser, at least as badly as the pirate ship did. Probably a lot worse.
When the captain comes back, how can she connect to the cruiser? She isn’t wearing an evac suit in her pod.
My stomach churns.
What will happen to everyone?
What will happen to me?
He strides over the jagged barrier and into the gray interior, a shadow moving deeper into shadow. “Come.”
I cannot remain here.
I hug my day pack.
There’s only forward now. No backward.
I walk into the mouth of the beast.
My footsteps echo, boots clattering loudly.
As I move, the tunnel shrinks in, closing behind me. I hurry to catch up to him. The tunnel terminates in a small hollow just a few strides across, like hitting the back of the throat. The way I’ve come seals and smooths like skin or fabric.
I’ve been swallowed.
He turns around to face me and leans against the far wall, wrists down, hood back, eyes staring straight ahead.
The ship walls fold around him. His fingers twitch. The air between us tints. He’s facing me, but I don’t think he sees me at all.
Are we moving? There’s no sensation of movement.
Everything is still and silent.
Should I be still and silent too?
But I can’t forge a connection in silence. “What’s happening?”
“We are matching velocities with the Spiderwasp.”
We’re flying, then. It’s not cold, but my fingers are like ice. “Can I see?”
The walls around us change to show the outside, and it’s not like the viewscreens in our cruiser which have an unreal patina. It’s like looking through glass, which is insane because I know how deep we are in his ship…although it’s nothing like the ships I’ve been on. Humana has received the dregs of technology, and this is the pinnacle of the empire, so I guess I don’t know anything about it at all.
Behind me floats our cruiser. It was such a pretty clam-shaped spaceship with a pearl glued onto the widest part—the communications array for the movie theater, which was actually the bridge.
The pirate ship hangs off its back like an ugly tick.
There’s a sad puff of debris by the gaping hole from which we’ve just detached. The other women’s memorabilia have been sucked into space. I wish I would have figured out how to close all the doors at once, but it’s also a stark reminder that none of us can ever go back.
Which bits of dust glittering among the stars are the escape pods?
Hopefully, the captain can see we’ve left and everyone is still close enough to be pulled back.
It’s a lot more likely someone will find our cruiser than a pod.
But it’s also really unlikely anyone will ever find our cruiser.
It’s still moving at hundreds of miles per hour, but looks like it’s standing still against the background of stars. Since we must be increasing velocities to match the other ship, we’re leaving it behind.
On the other side of Sithe lies our destination.
I walk around him—because it was a trick of the optics and he’s actually leaning against a column in the center of the room, not a dead end—and rest my fingers against the false glass.
There is the Spiderwasp.
A giant evil haystack. Haystack? The top is blunt and rounded like a fist while the bottom tapers to straw-like strings. I think of a spider wasp as a flying insect that preys upon tarantulas. A number survived the cataclysms, and we keep both—wasps and tarantulas—at a healthy distance. This is something different.
“What is a spiderwasp to an Arrisan?”
“A sea creature.”
Yes. The tentacles hang down as some sort of jellyfish that stings. We maneuver to rendezvous with the underbelly. These tentacles, in fact, do sting. All the ends are guns.
He leaves whatever he’s doing and stands behind me.
What’s going through his mind? The person who communicated with him on the first transmission had told him to appreciate the majesty. “Is it majestic?”
“It is new, and so it is the most powerful.”
Power equals majesty.
His hand brushes my forehead.
A lock of hair was hanging in my face. He tucks the stray lock behind my shoulder and smooths the others.
The silver in his irises glimmers as his gaze snags against mine.
Then he recedes beneath the hood until only the curve of his temple, jutting chin, and jawline on one side are visible.
Nerves squiggle in my belly.
Is this curiosity?
Or a hint of caring?
Can I prompt him to take care of me?
To protect me?
He casually, thoughtlessly, doomed my shipmates because he couldn’t wait the extra minutes to non-destructively connect our ships.
It would be so very easy for him to do the same to me.
We’re flying into a nest of killers just like him.
I really don’t know what’s going to happen next.