Releasing in One Week - First Mataras: Irene

A conversation with a disapproving parent

Rusp went to the clan’s sleeping room to talk to his father privately. He couldn’t stand Irene to see him belittled, even if she wouldn’t understand what was said.

Sherv and Jemi’s parents hadn’t been thrilled by their sons’ determination to make their livings as musicians. Like Rusp’s, they wore their disapproval openly, constantly asking when the young men would stop goofing off and settle into real careers, start building some rank.

Then there was Rusp’s Nobek father, Ezrob. A high commander of Kalquor’s ground forces soldiers, he’d held his three Nobek sons to exacting standards. Two of those sons, having risen to commander ranks themselves, had made him proud. Rusp, on the other hand…

He settled on the edge of the sleeping mat and stared morosely at the desk com, which had the power to reach Kalquor frequencies. He calculated what time it would be in the capital city of Kalquor while he inhaled the scents of love from the night before. Irene filled his senses, reminding him she needed his help and protection. He instructed the com to contact Ezrob at his office.

His father’s assistant answered, a delay he didn’t mind. “Good morning, Lieutenant Elti. It’s Rusp.”

“Yes, I recognized the frequency. We’re rather busy this morning. I could have the high commander com you back when he gets a moment.” The Dramok’s clipped tone was all business. He was usually pleasant to Rusp.

Rusp was tempted to tell him it was fine, but he had a suspicion whatever was occupying his father might have something to do with the situation putting his clan at odds with Captain Nil. “Is Kalquor kidnapping Earther Mataras? I just helped one escape a destroyer captain.”

There was a second of silence. Then Elti said, “Hold on, Rusp. I’m putting you through.”

A beat of quiet followed, then the voice he dreaded spoke. “What the hell did you do, Rusp?”

 

Releasing in one week. Now available for pre-order at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Smashwords, and in print. (Print is already on sale)

 

She searched for freedom and found a Kalquorian clan.

Irene Jonson is a rising star in opera, thanks to Earth forcing her to leave her parents as a teen to join a prestigious opera company. Years later, she loves music, but she wants the freedom to forge her own path as a performer and be reunited with her family.

Sherv, Rusp, and Jemi are a clan and band playing hard, driving music. Success means more than fame and fortune; it would show their disapproving families they’ve chosen the lives they were meant to live. Encountering Irene, creating a new and exciting sound, gives them that opportunity…and a chance at love.

Two worlds on the brink of war threaten everything Irene and Clan Sherv have built and everything they dream of. Two worlds are bent on snatching Irene from the men and music she loves. What chance do four misfit musicians possibly have against Earth and the Kalquorian Empire?

 

WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Irene

 

No time to cry

She wasn’t sure if he was careful because Rusp had been rough or because he needed to go slow because he felt so intensely. When he entered her, still on top of the table, it was in gradual increments. She experienced every inch of his tender invasion and reveled in it. When he reached his end, she basked in the complete joining all the more for having so thoroughly experienced it.

They lay quiet for a long while. Sherv gazed into her eyes, his hair curtaining their faces. They might have been the only two people in existence. Irene’s fingertips traced his features, committing him to touch as well as sight. The arched brows over his large, mesmerizing eyes. The sculpted cheekbones. The nose that was a hair from being too big, but lent it character. The strong chin. The well-shaped lips begging to be kissed.

She memorized him, in pieces and as a whole. She saw the strong man and the sensitive soul housed in him. She verified how she loved him, feeling it as thoroughly as she had with Rusp.

It was darkly funny to have discovered the great goal of humans since time’s beginning: perfect love. It was as stupendous and earthshaking as the romantics claimed. It was also soul shattering, the harshest sentence fate could possibly pass. Irene had no idea how she was supposed to survive leaving them behind. She doubted she could.

Sherv began to move at last, slow and easy. She rocked along, meeting his leisurely thrusts, grinding deliberately so electric thrills woke and chased through her. They writhed on the table in sinuous accord. Their kisses were unhurried tastings rather than desperate devouring, but they fed from each other just the same. There was no nuance Irene didn’t mark: the way the crease between his brows deepened as passion grew, the hard planes of his chest against hers, how he repeated motions when her breath caught.

They climbed passion’s peak bit by bit, pausing when they noted they’d gone too far, too fast. Insistent bliss jabbed Irene, begging to be unleashed, but she set it aside in favor of extending the journey. She was in no hurry to reach her destination, and Sherv apparently wasn’t either.

The only reason she knew she wept was thanks to the tears tickling her skin as they escaped. Sherv collected them with kisses. She felt the sadness that brought them, but she concentrated on the perfection of joining. There would be plenty of time to cry later.

Releasing June 23. Now available for pre-order at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Smashwords, and in print. (Print is already on sale)

WIP Wednesday - First Mataras: Irene

  The Kalquorian Empire vs. the band

Irene planted her palms against Weapons Commander Amig’s back and rose up. She unleashed a scream, desperate for someone to hear and help her. Her well-trained lungs and voice delivered, and her shriek echoed along the corridor.

Her captors sighed in its wake. Amig picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “Rescue or not, you have to agree doing it this way is the height of dishonor. I might resign from the fleet.”

A dark streak appeared, shooting into sight from behind the curve of the bay. As it drew close, a second blur shot from the rapidly shrinking opening that led to Clan Sherv’s vessel.

Captain Nil snarled, “Do you think I like—”

The first blur lowered. As Amig started to turn toward it, it collided with the backs of his knees and became Rusp.

At the same instant, the second blur smacked Nil, knocking him forward, out of Irene’s sight. Then she was falling with Amig as Rusp rolled away to avoid being crushed beneath them. An iron grip found her arm, yanking her free of the weapons commander’s grasp. Irene was momentarily in Rusp’s embrace, then shoved to her feet and behind him.

He was also standing and facing the snarling Amig, who went for his blaster…and found his holster empty. Rusp pointing it at him only seemed to piss him off. He jerked, as if to attack.

“Don’t do it, Nobek, or your captain will be in a world of hurt.” Sherv was there, out of Amig’s reach, pointing another blaster at the stunned Nil, who was slowly climbing to his feet. Sherv backpedaled, keeping the blaster he’d apparently stripped from Nil trained on the weaponless captain. “Irene, get in our ship.”

Amig’s fury was short-circuited by obvious shock. He gaped at Irene. “Them? You were with them? The lemanthev band?”

“Go to the ship, Irene.” Sherv and Rusp stood between her and the destroyer officers, backing slowly away.

“Listen, boys,” Nil warned, he and Amig advancing toward them, step for step. “It’s a rescue, not a kidnapping. Our orders came from the highest offices to get her away from Earth custody.”

“I don’t know of many ‘rescues’ where a woman is crying and screaming for help from her supposed saviors. It isn’t a good look for the empire’s fleet officers.” 

Releasing June 23. Now available for pre-order at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Smashwords, and in print. (Print is already on sale)