Aliens are invading my blog! And having just relaunched my Alien Sex Ed series, I welcome them. Today, we’ve got some great snippets from a wonderful group of SFR writers, including Cynthia Sax, Mahlee Ashwynn, Pippa Jay, Susanna Eastman, Daisy Banks, Jessica E. Subject, Laurel Richards, Shiloh Saddler, Gail Koger, and Melisse Aires. Their works span several heat levels, and their out-of-this-world teasers will have you adding to that TBR list. Thank you to all the authors who made this post so much fun.
He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
His face was twisting and distorting. The shoulders stretched the once-loose shirt, arms elongating and his body augmenting in extended ripples. Her panicked inhalation brought a crooked smile to the new face before her.
“Aldien, what in the nyxtril are you?”
“A Chameleord.” His breath came out short and hard in that familiar baritone voice.
At the center, T’rill alternated between surveying her somnolent entourage, her exuberant offspring, and admiring the play of sunlight on her skin, scaled in golden-green like the children’s. She contemplated removing the unnecessary weight of the twisted coronet of silver and pearls around her bare head, the only insignia of rank she wore—a token required by etiquette. J’dahzi, her most loyal, and yet most critical, courtier would scold her for doing so. Even though the thought amused her, she accepted the imagined reprimand and tolerated the burden. Lithe and muscular, she lay on a cloth of gold and green, a slight smile on her thin lips at each joyful squeal from her children. Dressed only in a short tunic of iridescent blue that left her slender arms and legs bare, T’rill, Queen of Metraxi, relaxed amongst the drowsy members of her court and her alert guardians, content and at peace, a day away from the rigors of duty and responsibility.
“Touching me like this. It’s only a medical procedure to you?”
“It has to be.” His gaze darted around the shuttle before meeting her eyes again.
“It has to be?” Mia repeated his words. “You won’t feel anything?” she pressed, inching closer to him.
Tenderness warmed his heart for Elana needed him to discover herself. He would delight in the duty of caring for her. “You are perfect. The most desirable and disobedient female I’ve seen on this planet or any other is my mate. Tell me, do you really want to wear male clothing, such as I found you in? Do you wish to take on the elite of the Jagan world alone?”
“It wasn’t male clothing. I arrived in a shadow suit,” she snapped, interrupting him again.
“Your girlfriend is a Lisivian, or at least half. And that means you’re going back to Earth.”
Chal’s heart raced. “But you said—”
“I know, but that was before I realized who we were dealing with.” Slade guided him to the single-person transporter in the corner.
She trod the silver and black corridors of her vessel alone and barefoot, hunger burning in her belly. Despite the dark color, the walls shone, lit by shimmering veins that seemed to flow along the undulating surfaces. She ran her fingers along one wall possessively, to feel the distant throb of the engines like the pulse of an eager lover. All that vibrant energy thrumming through her ship, into her fingertips, shivering over her skin. She resisted the urge to press herself into the walls and feel it strum through her whole body. Jakhani must find her another human with more stamina or she’d be forced to seek the cold and passionless company of her own kind for the meager solace that would provide.
This was a precept? The guy looked like an ordinary man, not a monster or mutant. In fact, he was handsome and friendly looking. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties. His hair was a fine light brown, and he had striking hazel eyes, which were now fixed on her. Under different circumstances, she might have attributed her fluttering pulse to something other than nerves. When she shook his hand, his fingers felt warm and soft and made her shiver.
Master Dantfur’s eyes glowed golden, matching the color of his hair. He reached down and picked Andrew up, cradling him against his chest.
Andrew’s body prickled with fear and then a soothing wave of pleasure washed over him. Master Dantfur didn’t mean to hurt him. His strong arms surrounded him gently, careful to avoid the worst of his injuries.
Without thinking, Andrew nuzzled against the Linatar’s thick shoulder.
Master Dantfur let out a guttural hum. Was he purring?
The warlord’s stunned gaze swept over my greasy black hair that hung in clumps around my pale, zit-covered face, and paused for a minute on the black raccoon-like circles around my eyes. He eyed my Hunchback of Notre Dame outfit in outright horror, and his nose wrinkled in disgust as my eau de dead skunk perfume hit him.
It was all I could do not to giggle. Hideous didn’t even begin to describe me. There wasn’t a man or warlord alive who would want to touch me.
It is an honor to finally meet you, Zoey.” Baring his awesome fangs in a scarily polite smile, he held out his hand diplomatically.
What a liar. Time to get the fun started. I scuttled round the desk and hid behind the general. “Please, don’t let him eat me.”
His face was human-like with a flared Roman nose, though his nostrils had notches on the side. High cheekbones, carved brown lips and a square jaw. He had aqua hair that was more like a pelt, thick and brushy. Eyebrows, of that same aqua shade. Inhuman eyes, almond shaped and faceted turquoise with no pupil, but set in human-like eye sockets with thick dark eyelashes.
His teeth—Oh my God, his teeth—Sharp and lots of them.
Quinn cupped her breasts with hungry palms and gave them one more squeeze before all his attention centered on the treasure between her legs. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise as he explored new territory. Unlike New Earthling women, she wasn’t curly and coarse down below. Instead, she had very short, perfectly straight hairs that formed a pelt over her mons. When he ran his fingers through this novel down, he discovered it was as fine and soft as cat’s fur and just as thick. He felt her shiver.
“A natural purple,” he mused, which made her chuckle.