Alien Breeder’s Seed
Tammy Walsh
Contents
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1. Isabella
2. Ras
3. Isabella
4. Ras
5. Isabella
6. Liam
7. Isabella
8. Ras
9. Isabella
10. Ras
11. Liam
12. Isabella
13. Ras
14. Isabella
15. Ras
16. Isabella
17. Ras
18. Isabella
19. Ras
20. Isabella
21. Ras
22. Isabella
23. Ras
24. Isabella
25. Ras
26. Isabella
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Owned by the Alien Sneak Peek
1. Alice
Also by Tammy Walsh
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Isabella
It was the craziest storm I had ever seen.
Clouds smothered the horizon with a powdery grey-white canvas.
Every few moments, a sharp flash of light, sometimes green, other times neon blue, broke through and cast long patches across the wet tarmac of the motorway.
Then a deep rumbling followed hot on the lightning’s heels, making the steering wheel beneath my hands vibrate.
The storm was right on top of us.
There wasn’t anything particularly different about that, I thought. Lately, my entire life had been consumed with storms.
The window wipers slashed across the front windscreen, throwing the hard rain off by the bucketload.
I slowed down as I took a wide turn.
Driving at night always made me nervous.
The rain only added to my nervousness.
I hadn’t driven a car for more than five years, and it didn’t help I had to wrestle with my father’s big old pick-up either.
Coming to my hometown in the country was meant to help ease me back into a more regular lifestyle.
But returning after barely visiting for so long had made fitting in more difficult than I expected.
Most of my old friends had moved away from home, just as I had done, living in cities dotted across the nation in search of work to escape toiling in the fields.
Then old friends began to emerge from the woodwork like background characters in a bad comic book.
Not that they had ever really been friends.
They’d been acquaintances, classmates, people you saw now and then but never really spoke to.
I was surprised they remembered me as I so often found it difficult to remember them.
Even more shocking was discovering how excited they were to meet me.
They insisted on talking about old times—even though we never really shared any.
And they stuck to me like glue.
It didn’t take me long to realize it was my mom who had convinced her friends to encourage them to come.
“It’s good for you to meet new people,” she said.
“They’re not new people. They’re people I never spoke to at school. So why should I speak to them now?”
“People change over time.”
“Only if they do different things. Ashbourne hasn’t changed since I left, so what could change them?”
A thunderous boom tore across the sky and made me jump in my seat, accidentally swerving into the middle of the road.
An identical pick-up heading in the opposite direction flashed their lights and honked their horn as they zipped past.
“Sorry,” I said, glancing over at Trudy.
She clutched her fake Louis Vuitton handbag close to her chest and kept her keen eyes firmly on the windscreen as the window wipers stabbed like a murderer’s arm.
“The Spur is just up ahead,” she said. “Maybe we can stop there until this storm finishes?”
And have to put up with her for another couple of hours? I thought. I’d spent the day shopping with her already and I had no intention of turning it into an all-nighter.
“We’ll get home faster if we keep going,” I said.
Trudy nodded but her round eyes didn’t leave the windscreen.
She might as well have screamed at the top of her lungs:
“That’s if we manage to get home!”
The storm had come on quickly and without preamble, like a stalker waiting in the bushes to leap out at the least opportune moment.
I’d always been a city girl, even if I had been born in the wide-open spaces of Ashbourne.
The basket of America.
The basket case of America more like.
After my friend had been abducted by a random stranger—a random stranger I had encouraged her to approach no less—the city morphed from a place of potential and light into one of darkness and danger.
It’d always been that way, but I’d always managed to distract myself with parties and drinks and, above all, men.
After my friend disappeared to God knows where, I found I could no longer block out the darker, seedier aspects of city living.
Suddenly, the city was no longer exciting, but dangerous.
And I felt the overwhelming need to return to my roots, where I belonged.
Ashbourne.
I quit my job, packed up my things, and alerted my parents to my intentions.
They were happy to see more of me, but after three months, I was beginning to grow weary of this place the same way I had five years ago.
Trudy pointed out the windscreen toward a block of warm and inviting yellow light.
Despite the cascading rain, I could make out the single block of red neon light and spinning yellow spur on one corner that signified The Spur bar.
My foot began to ease off the gas.
Maybe stopping, ordering a drink, and waiting out the storm wouldn’t be so bad.
But when I spotted the patrol car parked in the lot, my hesitating foot buried itself on the gas pedal.
The day had been a washout as it was.
I didn’t need to make it even worse.
“The lot’s full,” I lied. “It’s not far to your house anyway.”
Trudy settled back into the passenger seat and clutched her bag even tighter to her chest.
Trudy wasn’t a bad sort.
She just wasn’t my sort.
At high school, she’d always been the studious one, joining the chess club and spelling bee, mastering both.
Of all the girls in my year, I expected her to be the highflyer.
Instead, she never got up the gumption to shake this dusty old town from her heels and remained here.
I spotted her exit and took the long turn that led onto her street.
I pulled up outside her house, both of us relieved she would soon
