Oh, great, I thought. What now?
Egara leaned forward and forced himself onto his feet.
He couldn’t remain standing without my help.
He raised a hand to the ship and waved, a grin spreading across his features.
“About time,” he said.
“Is that…?”
“Yes. The Wanderer. My ship.”
My heartrate thumped my chest and soared higher and further than even his ship was capable of.
I wrapped my arms around Egara and prayed life would be a little easier for the both of us.
“Take me away, captain,” I said.
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.
What he gave me, I gave back in spades.
We gave each other the strength we needed to survive every day for the rest of our lives.
Together.
Forever.
Fated mates.
I hope you enjoyed the FATED MATES OF BREEDER PRISON trilogy. It was a lot of fun to write and, as we speak, I’m in the middle of writing my next series CLAIMED BY THE ALIEN BREEDER. Here’s the blurb:
To save her from the Shadow he must claim her for himself.
Every M’Rora is born a twin - one good and righteous, the other evil and twisted - and they’re both on the hunt for the fated mate they share.
Vai is the only creature strong enough to fight his malevolent twin. If he fails, she will be dragged into the Shadow Realm and passed from one breeder to the next. There’s only one way to save her. The evil twin will not breed with his mate if she has already been claimed, so Vai must do it first.
But Vai is kind and can only take what is willingly given. Emma is attracted to her possessive alien warrior but refuses to sleep with him. After all, the M’Rora mate for life and it’s not a commitment she’s ready to make… even if a worse fate awaits her.
Will she listen to her inner voice that longs to be claimed by the powerful alien or will she ignore it and realize her mistake too late?
Grab the first book in the series, ALIEN BREEDER’S BOND.
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Alien Breeder’s Bond Sneak Peek
Emma
“He’s staring at you.”
“Who?”
“Him.”
Olivia nodded toward a distant corner cloaked in shadow.
A figure was momentarily highlighted by a passing strobe light.
It was one of Olivia’s many unique quirks.
Only she could be somewhere as busy as this nightclub and notice a single pair of eyes focusing on her.
Or in this case, on me.
“He’s not looking at me.”
“Sure he is. I know hunger when I see it and that guy looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. If you play your cards right, you might be on the menu.”
I slapped Olivia on the arm.
“You’re incorrigible.”
Olivia shrugged her exposed shoulders.
“I’m honest. Maybe they’re the same thing.”
Despite myself, I was intrigued.
Of all the stunning girls in the place, why would he be interested in me?
I picked up my mojito and, so as not to look too interested in him, took a sip and peered over the glass’s rim.
The dancers writhed like a giant coiled beast on the dancefloor, and as they drifted apart, they left a narrow gap.
I caught sight once more of the figure cloaked in shadow.
I couldn’t make out his features well in the dim light.
Was he really looking at me? I wondered.
I shook my head.
I made a fart sound with my lips and took another gulp from my mojito.
“He’s not looking at me,” I said resolutely. “He could be looking at anyone.”
Across from him were two separate tables of gaggling hens.
Each of the ladies was hot and did nothing to disguise their obvious interest in the stranger.
They smiled coyly and seductively at him in equal measure.
A temptress in a slutty dress made a comment and the others at her table burst out laughing.
The guy just sat there, either not hearing their comment or pretending like he hadn’t.
He should have.
After all, I did.
I didn’t know if the girl said it intentionally to coincide with a break in the music or not but that was how I came to hear it.
“He hasn’t got eyes for you,” she’d said. “He’s looking at her.”
Poison might have dripped from the last word.
The girls shot looks at me, both insulting and derogatory.
They ran their eyes over me, eyeing me with disdain in an attempt to figure out what it was about me the stranger found so attractive.
Olivia ground her teeth so loud I could hear it.
She shifted her weight to roll up onto her feet and confront the ladies at the other tables.
I placed a hand on her forearm.
“Don’t.”
The last thing we needed was a scene.
And that was exactly what Olivia was capable of when someone got her goat.
“Ignore them. They’re just a bunch of tarts.”
Of course, that was when the music died down to another quiet lull, and my comments sailed audibly to anyone who cared to listen.
The ladies spat ugly comments, thankfully covered by the swelling music.
The mystery stranger’s hand curled around his single beer bottle, the muscles in his arm turning tight.
He still hadn’t taken a swig from it yet.
His
