Sneak Peek at Marked For Mayhem

Her last shot at love just crashed and burned… literally.

Bella signed up for the interplanetary courtship cruise hoping for travel, adventure, and maybe a chance at romance. Now she’s crash landed on a strange planet with no one around but a horned alien hottie who showed up and laid claim to her gear, her ship… and her.

He’s too brash, too pushy, and much too young for her. He’s also not taking no for an answer…

This wasn’t the adventure she imagined, but it might be the romance of a lifetime, if she can stay alive long enough to enjoy it.

**Buckle up. This sci-fi romance contains an alien with fur, fangs, horns, and a very possessive attitude when it comes to the woman he’s claimed for his own.

Chapter One

“This was not in the brochure,” Bella muttered as she clung to the straps of her safety harness. She kept her eyes tightly closed as she spent what she assumed were the last minutes of her life trying to pin down which of her many dubious choices had led her astray.

The escape pod pitched and shook as it plummeted toward the surface at speeds she didn’t want to contemplate. If the thrusters failed, there’d be nothing left but a crater and a schmear of organic goo that had once been Bella-shaped.

She decided that signing up for the galactic matchmaking cruise had been the key mistake. What was she thinking, looking for love at her age? It didn’t matter what species they were. Males were all the same. They wanted someone young and pretty to warm their bed and boost their ego, and while Bella had been young once, she’d never been pretty.

She heard her father’s voice in her head, exactly the same as it had been the day he’d called her into the front room and laid out his plans for her future. “You’re a handsome woman, Bella, but you’ll never be beautiful. Beauty offers its own kind of power, but you’re not destined for that. You’re going to have to find other ways to get by in life. I’ve got no money or power of my own, but I know men who have both. The best I can do for you is to give you to one of them. You’ll have to make your own way after that.”

She’d taken her father’s advice and gone with the man he’d chosen for her, a crime lord named Felix Natar. Maybe that had been a mistake, too, but she’d had limited options back then.

The same could be said for her current situation. She’d traveled from planet to planet, watching as the other women made their choices and left for their new lives. Now only a handful of them remained, rattling around the lushly appointed ship like loose change in a rich man’s purse. At least, they had been… before it had all gone to the nine hells.

One minute they were zipping along in hyperspace, and the next the ship convulsed and shuddered as something that felt like a shock wave tore through it. After that, there’d been nothing but chaos.

The captain had come on, shouting orders Bella barely heard over the alarms that screeched and wailed from every speaker. Heavy, airtight doors slammed shut, sealing off various compartments.

Bella tried to remember the drills they’d all been put through at the start of the cruise. Emergency procedures. She needed to be somewhere right now… Shit! The escape pods.

She was only halfway to the nearest evac station when something loud happened and the ship rocked again, throwing her to her knees.

She was barely on her feet again before a new, even louder klaxon sounded and every monitor in view lit up bright red, all flashing the same message in various languages. “Abandon Ship.”

She’d followed the flashing arrows to the nearest escape pod and strapped herself into the one-man vessel. The moment she had her harness fastened, the door sealed, and she’d been ejected into space.

An annoyingly calm, automated voice came on within seconds of launch while Bella was still dealing with the sudden loss of gravity. The voice announced the pod would attempt to land on the nearest planet and began reciting instructions pertaining to various crash scenarios. “In case of a water landing…”

Bella ignored it. She had no idea what the surface looked like. It could be water, land, or molten rock, for all she knew. She didn’t even know where they were. All she had to go on was what little information scrolled across the pod’s single monitor. The planet had a breathable atmosphere, multiple healthy ecosystems, and not much else. No cities. No ports. No datasphere. She couldn’t even see what it looked like. The pod had no windows, and the monitor kept scrolling the same few lines of text. All she could do was hold on and hope.

Laughter bubbled up in giddy giggles that morphed into maniacal gales. She was about to crash land on a strange planet and probably die there… This was so not the way she imagined this cruise ending for her.

*

Bella didn’t remember the moment of impact. One second she’d been laughing like a lunatic, and the next thing she knew, she was staggering through the open door of her pod, coughing up the suspension gel that must have been triggered while she was still airborne.

The gel had saved her life, but holy hells, it reeked. She hacked and spat as much of the vile crap out of her body as she could, her attempts to clear her mouth and lungs triggering several rounds of nausea as her much-abused stomach got in on the action. Once her insides were dealt with, she switched her attention to the outside.

“Fuck.” She was drenched in the snot-slick stuff and more was oozing out of the pod. A goopy pool of it gathered around the open door, making the scorched ground sizzle and hiss anywhere the liquid touched.

Scorched ground. Right. So, the thrusters had kicked in like they were supposed to. She was still dizzy enough that falling back into the goop was a risk, so she moved a few meters away. Once she found a patch of reasonably clear ground, she planted her feet and took her first look around.

Trees. That was her first impression. She’d crashed into a forest of some kind. The ground was thick with a spongy carpet she assumed was some kind of moss, though it was a far cry from the blue-green stuff she’d seen before. This was a burnt orange color, though it looked to be healthy enough. The trees overhead had foliage of similar shades. Reds and oranges with a few splashes of gold here and there. She couldn’t smell much over the cloying smell of the goop, but the air was definitely breathable.

The second that thought popped into her head, she tossed it right back out again. Obviously, it was breathable. She’d have suffocated by now otherwise. Fortunately, the cruise came with a health package that had provided the women with all sorts of boosters to help them acclimatize to different oxygen levels and immunize them against dozens of pathogens and parasites. Handy when they were being toured around the galaxy looking for love… and damned useful now she was on a strange planet.

Whatever wound up killing her would have to be bigger than a virus. She looked around warily. “That was not an invitation for anything to try and kill me right now. In fact, I’d recommend waiting until I’ve gotten this crap off me first. Trust me, it does not taste good.”

She sank down on a moss-covered stone, gathered up a handful of the thick, orange stuff, and used it to scrub the worst of the gunk off herself.

Over the next few minutes, the natural sounds of the wood returned as whatever wildlife called this place home got over the shock of her sudden and noisy arrival. The pod had torn a path through the canopy, snapping off branches as it plowed through on its way to the ground. Sunlight poured through the gap, and after a few more minutes, she opted to move to a shadier spot. The sun was baking the remaining gel into a hard, tacky mess that itched.

She wanted to find a nice pool of water somewhere and clean up, but that couldn’t be her first priority. Being clean was a luxury. Shelter, food, and drinkable water were necessities. She eyed the pod that had brought her here. It was oblong, windowless, and a little worse for wear after atmospheric re-entry and the beating it took from the local plant life. Plus, the inside was coated in slowly dissolving goo.

Whoever had designed these things clearly didn’t intend for the pod to act as any kind of shelter once it was on the ground. Of course, most times escape pods would drift around in space and wait for rescue. The space-to-planet ratio was heavily skewed toward the empty space side of the scale.

 Still, it was better than nothing. And hadn’t that stupid voice mentioned something about emergency supplies at some point during the descent?

She crossed over to the still-cooling pod and took a closer look. There! Near the bottom, she spotted a panel marked in multiple languages. She couldn’t read them all—her translators only worked on spoken speech, not written words—but the ones she could make out all said the same thing. “Emergency kit inside.”

The metal was still hot, but she managed to get the panel open without burning herself. She found two containers inside. One was marked as rations and the other as an emergency shelter. She grabbed them both and lugged them over to the shady rock she’d used earlier. At least, that’s what she tried to do. The reality was something quite different.

The containers were heavy and awkward, and the thick moss made it almost impossible to pick her way through the uneven footing. After just a few steps she tripped over something and stumbled, dropping both items in the process.

Before she could recover her balance, she was deafened by an explosive whooshing noise and something hit her in the back, knocking her off her feet.

The moss was soft, but the roots and rocks she landed on weren’t. Ow.

She’d fallen too many times in her life to make the mistake of moving before she was certain nothing was broken. It only took a few seconds to determine she had a few bruises and scrapes but nothing more serious. Good enough.

Time to see what the hell had knocked her down and made that hideous noise. She got awkwardly to her feet, grateful no one could see her right now. Then she looked behind her. Something large and yellow was caught between the trunks of several trees. It shuddered and hissed like a suitcase full of unhappy snakes, and it took Bella’s scattered senses a few seconds to work out what had happened. Her shelter had attacked her.

She looked on in dismay as the large inflatable structure slowly deflated through several freshly torn holes. She’d somehow managed to activate it when she stumbled. It had inflated and then rapidly run out of room since it was far too big to fit into the densely treed space. The rocks and branches had torn holes in it, and now it was dying a sad, leaky death as she watched.

Fucking hells. Even if she found a patch kit, it couldn’t possibly be extensive enough to fix all the leaks, and she didn’t see anywhere nearby to set it up if she did. The shelter was useless.

At least she still had the rest of the supplies. Maybe she could cut up the shelter to make a tarp or something. If she could find something to cut it with. She needed something to defend herself with, too, because anywhere as lush and full as life as this spot had to have wildlife in abundance.

“Something here is going to try to eat me. I just know it.”

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her spin around. Some kind of serpent-like creature had come up behind her, its red and orange coloring helping it blend into the forest floor.

Bella had no idea if it was dangerous or not, but she wasn’t about to take that chance. She slowly lifted one foot off the ground and eased her shoe off. It was a sensible flat, durable and comfortable.

She took aim and hurled it at the creature’s head. Her throw was off, but it was enough to make the serpent veer off and then turn to slither back into the forest.

“Something might eat me eventually,” she called after the snake as she limped over to pick up her shoe, “but it won’t be you.”

Ready for more? Marked For Mayhem releases March 29th. Preorder it today and have this hot, horned alien delivered straight to your reader on release day.

Preorder it Here

Warr is here!

cover of Warr by susan hayes and mina carter

First they stole her planet. Then they stole her sister…

Her twin might have surrendered to the enemy, but Max will never stop fighting the alien warriors that conquered Earth. 

She’s the leader of a rebel army determined to fight for freedom and the future of the human race. The Tolath are her enemies, and she will never surrender to any of them… especially not to him

Warr is coming… He let her escape him once. She won’t get away again.

Warr caught her scent once, and he’ll never forget it. Whoever she is, wherever she is, he’ll find her. And when he does he will learn all her secrets and teach her the consequences of running from a Tolathian general. 

His mission – retrieve his target and bring her back untouched and unclaimed. But no plan survives contact with the enemy, and Max is like no adversary he’s ever faced before. She’s beautiful, dangerous… and his

This series contains hot, growly aliens on a mission to find their mates – and a group of women determined to free their planet… and themselves. 

Buy it now!

Her Alien Forgemasters is here!

She doesn’t do mornings, cardio, or long-term relationships. Then her mates walked into her bar…

 Anya couldn’t be happier. Her tavern is packed every night, her staff is amazing, and her nosy mother is busy hauling cargo on the far side of the galaxy. It’s taken her years of work to reach this moment, and she’s ready to relax and enjoy the ride.

The last thing she needs is a romance to mess up her plans. She’s managed quite well without a man in her life, so why did the universe send her two?

He’d always known they’d find their destined mate. He just never imagined she’d be human.

 Tra’var loves his new life. Haven colony isn’t perfect, but it’s far better than the unchanging, inflexible society they left behind. Here everyone is free to be themselves.

All that’s missing is the female who will complete their triad and forge them into the family he’s always dreamed of… but he wasn’t prepared for Anya. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected, even if she might be everything they need.

He’s been an outcast his whole life… what female would ever want him?

Damos can transform ordinary steel into anything from weapons to ornaments, but he’ll never be able to change the one thing he truly wishes he could… himself.

Born flawed in a society where genetic perfection is the standard, he’s only been tolerated but never accepted. Haven might be different. But when Anya learns the truth, will she see past his flaws and embrace him as her mate?

Available at your favourite retailer: BUY IT NOW

Sneak Peek at Her Alien Forgemasters

Releasing October 5th!

Chapter One

Tra’var glanced out the window of their domicile and then did a double take. Snow? That hadn’t been in the forecast.

“I’m going out back to make sure the forge is secure. It’s snowing!”

Damos grunted from his bedroom but didn’t make an appearance. “Great. Then we don’t need to go out. I’ll give you a hand and then we can pour our own drinks here and let Striker know we’re snowed in.”

“Not happening. We. Are. Going. I don’t care if there’s a blizzard. We promised we’d be there to celebrate.” There was a party for Striker and Maggie tonight to mark their mating and Maggie’s status as the colony’s newest citizen. Since he and his anrik had played a large part in rescuing Maggie from her abductors, Striker had sicced his female on Damos until the big, grumpy male had finally agreed to attend.

“Striker will understand. That male likes parties even less than we do.” Damos finally emerged from his room. Despite his grumbling, he was dressed for an evening out. His hair was neatly tied back, his jaw recently shaved. He’d donned polished boots, pants that had never been near enough to the forge to be damaged or singed, and a collared vest that Tra’var had never seen before.

“I didn’t know you owned anything without burn marks.”

His anrik flipped an obscene gesture at him. “I didn’t. But they have these things called shops. You go there and buy things you don’t have.”

“I’m familiar with the concept. I wasn’t aware you were.” Tra’var pulled on a jacket, arranging the long, heavy garment so his wings could be extended through slits in the back if needed.

“I do leave the house occasionally.”

“Very occasionally, which is counter to our whole reason for coming here.” They’d signed up for the new colony within hours of the announcement as a chance to start over somewhere new. A place where everyone would be judged on their own merits and not on their bloodlines was exactly what they needed.

At least, that was the plan. The reality was more complicated. Not everyone had left the old ways behind. There was still some bias and posturing. Wariness too. It would take time to discover the shape this new colony would take. Tra’var was hopeful. Damos was less so. Getting him out for a night with their new friends would be a major milestone. It would also be a step toward putting their mark on this place. If they wanted change, they needed to be present to make it happen.

Besides, he was sick of his anrik’s company. They might be blood-brothers, but if they spent one more night drinking ale and talking shop, Tra’var might just start throwing things. Given their home was also their storefront for the weapons they made, that had the potential to get messy.

Damos donned his jacket and pulled up the hood. “If we’re doing this, we better get going. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.”

“You agreed to two drinks and a meal,” he reminded Damos.

Another grunt. “I did. I’m still not sure how that happened. Maggie haggles better than half the traders we’ve ever done business with.”

“I noticed. Next time we have to negotiate prices for tarchozin, do you think we could borrow her?”

Damos nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. She’s very good. I don’t even know what I agreed to exactly, except that we have to try something called ‘Almost Heaven’ and Maggie’s signature cocktail. I think it was called an Aftershock? After… something. My head was spinning by that point.” Damos paused at the door and turned back to face Tra’var, though his face was shadowed by his hood. “I don’t know if I should feel sorry for Striker or envy him.”

“I envy him. He found his mahaya. The fact she is a match for him in every way is his own fault for being such a stubborn, growly male.”

Damos was halfway out the door before he spoke again. “Then it’s a good thing we haven’t found ours. I cannot imagine what kind of female the ancestors would send us.”

Tra’var didn’t answer. He flipped up his own hood and followed his anrik outside, his mind full of images of what their mate would be like. Soft. Smiling. Gentle enough to soothe the scars in Damos’ psyche and fill their home with light and laughter. One day, they would find her. They had to. As they aged, the urge to seek out their mate only grew stronger. If they didn’t find her soon, they could begin the transition to onar, those who had failed to find their mate and were destined to spend their lives alone. It was an unpleasant experience, one not everyone survived with mind and body intact.

They needed to find their mahaya before that happened. Then they would be complete.

*

Damos wasn’t sure how he felt about tonight, and he didn’t like it. He preferred to be certain about things. The correct shape for a blade. What temperature the forge should be. When to quench a blade and call it complete. He understood these things. Social cues and the nuances of polite society were far more complicated, especially for an outsider like him. It was easier to avoid them altogether.

They made the walk from their home in what had become the artists’ quarter to the broad bridge that linked the two sides of the colony. Flying would be faster, but the distance was beyond the range of what his imperfect wings could manage. They walked instead. Back on Vardaria Prime, that would have earned him pitying or scornful looks. He was flawed—an imperfect being in a society that valued lineage and breeding over ability and skill.

It wasn’t the same here, but it wasn’t easy to leave the old ways behind, either. Not for others and not for him.

The first snow of the season swirled around them, and he shoved his hands into his pockets before the chill triggered his scales to tighten. The natural armor was protection against attack, but it also made them resistant to heat and cold. In his case, though, it triggered more of the elements that made him different. His body didn’t know the difference between a cold wind and a violent assault, and the last thing he wanted was to arrive at the Bar None tavern sporting talons on his hands and raised scales down his spine.

 This wasn’t the first time he’d been to the bridge that spanned the river. He’d crossed it a few times to make deliveries, but that had always been during daylight hours. The place looked different now. For one thing, it was quieter. The street vendors had packed up their stalls for the night. A few beings were out and about, but they had their heads down and walked with purpose.

It was easy to spot their destination. The tavern was well-lit and noisy enough, and the sound carried on the wind, filling the night with faint laughter and music.

They reached the entrance, both moving to one side of the door to bang the snow from their boots and shake out their coats. It was an old habit, and the pause gave Damos a few more seconds to ensure his more unusual features weren’t in evidence. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, but Haven wasn’t ready for that.

Neither was he.

They went inside. The first thing that struck him were the differences. This was not a Vardarian place. The walls were painted in dark shades and the furniture, while clearly mass-produced, wasn’t all the same style. Some seating was built for smaller body frames, and others had no back, which was the preferred style for most of his kind.

The main room was large, but it still felt small to him. Only when he looked up did he understand why. Vardarian spaces had higher ceilings, space for the patrons to stretch their wings if needed. The ceiling here was low enough he had to suppress the urge to duck his head.

Bots scooted around the floor, carting drinks and food orders to tables and booths, most of which were full despite the weather. The bar was tended by a pair of droids, and electronic menus sat on every table. Good. He’d be able to order and get served without having to interact with anyone he didn’t know.

They stripped off their coats and added them to the racks that lined the wall by the door before looking around for Striker and Maggie. The pair wasn’t hard to spot. They were seated at the back of the room, surrounded by a group of familiar faces. Damos relaxed. He knew them all.

They even saved us seats,” Tra’var sent the subvocalized message directly to Damos’ implanted receiver.

He just grunted in response. Maneuvering in the crowded space was tricky for someone of his dimensions, and the last thing he wanted was to bump someone and trigger an unwanted fight. It probably wouldn’t happen here on Haven, but a lifetime of avoiding attention wasn’t easy to move past.

They were only a few steps from the group when a scent brushed against his awareness. Something… delicious was in the air. He took another breath. Yes. There. Behind him. Achingly familiar yet entirely new, the scent called to him. He turned and inhaled deeply.

She was here.

Tra’var. Taste the air and tell me what you sense.” He was already scanning the room as he messaged his anrik, looking for the source of that elusive scent. Vardarian females were seated around the room but they weren’t right. Cyborg females were present too, but his gaze moved over them all until they landed on a solitary female behind the bar.

Behind it. Not seated at it. Was that the female who owned this tavern? The human? Forge and flame. Was their mahaya human?

He drew in another breath and arousal hit him like a speeding meteor. It was her.

Tra’var spun around. “Her?”

“Yes.”

“She is beautiful,” Tra’var said, his tone reverential.

“And human.”

“Older,” Tra’var said.

“And ours.”

They walked toward her, barely noticing silence as the entire room watched this moment unfold.

They’d found her. Their mahaya. Their mate.

*

Anya had enjoyed a string of good days since coming to Haven, but this one was even better than usual. Her bar was packed, the patrons were all behaving, and everything was working the way it should.

The moment she had that thought, she rapped her knuckles three times on the top of the bar to ward off any bad luck that might be tempted by her open invitation to cause havoc. She’d had more than her share of chaos before coming here, and she had no doubt more would be in her future. Just… not right now. Tonight they all wanted to celebrate.

Every citizen of Haven knew the story of how this place had come to be and how many factions would like to see them fail. Torex Mining Corp wanted their planet back so they could tear it apart to reach the rich veins of tantalum buried beneath the surface. Darker forces wanted to reclaim their lost “property,” the cyborgs they had imprisoned and experimented on in their mad quest to build a better soldier.

And then there were the Vardarians. Thousands of them had followed Prince Tyran to Haven to start a new life far from the boundaries of their empire. She didn’t have to know the details to understand there was a reason so many beings uprooted their lives to travel across the stars and start their lives over again.

One thing she’d learned in her life was that beings were the same the galaxy over. It didn’t matter what sect, class, or species they were, intelligent life all seemed to follow the same patterns. Most of them tried to be good, even if they often failed, and some of them always reached for more than they should have. Power, wealth, influence. When it reached a certain point, the decent ones always left and tried to start over somewhere new… and then the whole dance started over again.

That’s what Haven was—the first steps in a dance that might end in a year, a decade, or a few millennia. There was no way to know, and that was part of the magic. All she could be certain of was that here and now was her best chance to be a part of something special. It’s what Phaedra had offered her, along with the unvarnished truth about the challenges Anya would face if she came. Unstable cyborgs who distrusted humans, a new species no one knew much about, and a new world that hadn’t even been surveyed properly.

She’d said yes in a heartbeat.

Now she had a booming business and a sense of community she’d never known before. These beings weren’t just her customers. They were her friends and neighbors. And tonight, they’d gathered to celebrate the newest addition to their ranks. After being claimed by Striker, Maggie was now officially a citizen of Haven and the first of the human refugees to reach that status. As far as Anya was concerned, no one deserved happiness more than Maggie. It made her heart happy to hear her friend’s laughter and watch her lean into Striker’s side, her joy an almost tangible thing that lifted everyone around her.

“She glows,” Saral said as she placed a plate of snacks in front of Anya. “It’s nice to see.”

“It is.”

“So would seeing you eat. You work too hard and don’t take care of yourself. You need to find a good male or two to make sure you are well cared for.”

“That is your answer to everything. Males are not the cure to all the troubles of the universe.”

“No. True. They are also the cause of many of them. But the orgasms help.” Saral laughed and touched her hand. “You’ll see when you meet your destiny.”

“Bah. My destiny is to grow old and rich running this place, or one like it. Which won’t happen if my best cook is out of the kitchen much longer. Shoo!”

The Vardarian female retreated to her domain again, still laughing softly. As happy as Saral was with her mates, she couldn’t see that not everyone was destined for that kind of love. Some, like Anya, just didn’t seem easy to love, and that was fine by her. She knew her flaws and accepted them because they were part of who she was. She’d been around long enough to learn to like the woman she’d become.

“And I don’t have time for a man, anyway. I barely have time for me.”

The droids had the orders covered, so she took her plate and retreated to the end of the bar to eat. Not long after, the door opened and two new faces walked into her bar. She’d never seen either of them before.

Single she might be, but she wasn’t blind. If she’d laid eyes on either of these males before, she’d remember. They were both Vardarian, one silver-skinned and the other golden. The silver one was slightly taller than his companion, but the golden one was larger in general, a veritable mountain of a male nearly as broad as he was tall.

When they removed their coats, she got an eyeful of powerful shoulders and arms that dwarfed even the other Vardarians present. No arm bands either, which meant they were unmated. The taller one was blond with a broad smile and rugged features while the golden one kept his expression guarded and moved with care between the tables, avoiding even the slightest contact with the other patrons.

She knew the look. He was used to having to work to avoid trouble or notice, though with his size, she couldn’t imagine who or what would dare to take issue with him.

They were almost to the back of the room where Maggie and Striker were holding court when the dark-haired one stopped and turned around. He took a deep breath, his massive chest rising as he sucked in a lungful of air.

Fraxx. She knew what that meant. The male had caught a scent that intrigued him. It might be the roasted gharshtu on special tonight, or it could mean he’d detected the scent of his mate.

When he started looking around the room, she knew dinner wasn’t what had his interest.

“Here we go again.” She watched, curious to see who it would be. Several Vardarian females were present tonight, along with a large group of cyborg women who were celebrating with Maggie. Who was about to have their lives turned upside down?

When the big male’s gaze landed on her, she expected him to take one look and keep moving.

He didn’t. His amber eyes brightened, and he took another breath.

Oh, hell no.

A second later, the blond spun around to stare at her, too.

Anya took a step back. This was not happening. She’d known when she agreed to come here that as a single female this was theoretically possible, but she’d never for one second thought she’d be some Vardarians’ mate.

Both males stalked toward her, their skin gleaming like newly minted coins as their scales tightened, a sure sign they were agitated.

So was she.

Mahaya,” the blond one said, his voice a deep rumble.

“Ma-hay-nope,” she retorted, stepping back from the bar to put more space between them. “I serve the food, but I am not on the menu.”

“But you are our mahaya,” the dark-haired one spoke this time, and his voice was pitched like rolling thunder.

Damn. He was sexy. They both were. If they’d been looking for a night of no-strings-attached sex, she might have been tempted. But this?

It had to be a mistake.

Both males stepped around to the opening at the end of the bar at the exact same moment. As they reached out to her, she noted they bore a matching pair of circular scars on their wrists. They were anrik, a blood-bonded pair.

“I can’t be. There has to be a mistake.”

“No mistake,” the blond said. “I am Tra’var. This is my anrik, Damos. What is your name?”

“Anya. Anya Hutchinson.”

“Anya.” Damos spoke the word with all the intensity of a prayer. “Shining star. It suits you.”

“It does?”

“Oh yes.” Tra’var reached for her again.

“Come. We have a lot to discuss and not much time.”

To her surprise, Anya stepped out from the bar and took their hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. She was even smiling for fraxx sake, despite the fact that every sensible cell in her brain was screaming at her to run for the hills before it was too late.

“Finally!” Saral exclaimed from the kitchen door, her smile as bright as a binary star system. “Go with them, Anya. We’ll take care of this place. You… enjoy yourself. Oh, your mother will be so pleased!”

“Do not tell my mother anything!” She didn’t want or need Hezza to cut short her cargo run so she could stick her nose into Anya’s business. If this was happening, the last thing in the galaxy she needed was her mother’s help.

When it came to relationships, she didn’t need anyone’s help, especially not a woman who had more romantic shipwrecks in her past than anyone else in the galaxy. Anya had enough wreckage in her own past to know how this was likely to go. If past was prologue, plenty of evidence suggested she could screw this up all on her own…

Want to know what happens next? Pre-order Her Alien Forgemasters today and have it delivered to your e-reader October 5th.

It’s release day for Rath!

He’s everything she knows to fear… but the alien warrior is her one chance to survive.

Injured, lost, and on her own, Savannah is at breaking point when help finally arrives. His name is Rath, and he’s one of the enemy… only he doesn’t act like it. He’s sexy, gentle, and his touch makes her ache for things she’s never wanted before…

He’s one of the beasts that conquered Earth – a dangerous alien in the service of a cruel and powerful Overseer. If he claims her, she’ll lose everything. So why does she yearn for his touch?

Catching his mate was the easy part… keeping her will be the fight of his life.

When Rath discovers a rare female hiding in the wastelands he knows he has to save her. She’s weak, wounded, and his… even if she doesn’t know it yet.

The law says he cannot claim her. His enemies want her for themselves. Rules won’t stop Rath from claiming his mate, and no enemy will survive if they try to take her from him.

This series contains hot, growly aliens on a mission to find their mates – and a group of women determined to free their planet… and themselves.

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