Book: Lunar Lovers by Emma Abbiss
|4.3 stars based on the 3 most helpful Amazon reviews|
Emma Abbissabout this book: When seven alien brothers turn into seven heavenly lovers, what's a girl to do?
Emma Abbiss brings us a smokin' hot story in outer space with a race who bond a new wife to the family in a very erotic way! Super sexy fun!
The activity of the small space station buzzed around Sam as he stopped in the middle of the shopping ring's wide way and breathed deeply. Within the stale recycled air, past the stench of trash and citrusy-smelling cleaning chemicals, beyond the medicated water and deep-freeze food…he scented an irresistible bouquet. His body hardened, every muscle growing taut as he inhaled the sexual scent that fired his blood and enlivened the coupling instincts that his species had held since the dawning of their civilization.
He followed the scent to Spaced, hunting his mortal mate.
When he entered the upscale clothing store, his jaw clenched as his cock swelled. She had been here—briefly but recently. Adjusting the strap on his sling bag, he followed her scent through the aisles up to the cash-out counter, where his mate had lingered longest.
The sales clerk turned and smiled. Her scent changed, revealing her sexual interest and befouling his mortal mate's scent. He wrinkled his nose and walked out, not bothering to ask questions because he didn't want to prolong time spent in the presence of a female whose robust scent diluted his mate's.
Down the way, his mate's scent lingered on a small trash bot and then detoured into a scummy alley. A low growl rumbled up his throat when he found pale-yellow shoes and a long strip of material that smelled not just of his mate but of her blood and pain. He stuffed the strip of worn brown material inside the shabby shoes and cradled them to his chest.
Her apparent injury quickened his heart and his steps.
Outside the alley, Sam picked up her scent once more and followed it into the three-hundred, then four-hundred curves. When his instinct took him to Misty's, a high-end restaurant he frequented whenever he docked at Ploice Two station, a thrill zipped up his spine to crackle in his head. They shared the same taste in food.
Her scent pooled a few paces from the blue-tinted shield door but did not move past it.
The manager, Carpus, stepped outside and offered him a polite closed-lipped smile.
"Mor Pherein." Carpus gave a short, fast bow. "May I serve you?"
"Yes. I am looking for a female who stopped here no more than ten minutes ago."
"Ah, yes, the little roughien who was seeking employment. I advised her to visit the establishments located in the eight-hundred curve." He swiped the palms of his thin, spindly hands against his slacks as if wiping his hands of her.
Sam's vision bled to red as anger rushed through his veins, elongating his sharp canines so that they made indentations on his lower lip. He thirsted for the manager's blood. And from the bastard's reaction, Carpus knew it too. The male's hand trembled as it protectively circled his throat. He shuffled backward.
"I-I meant n-no offense, Mor Pherein. I—"
Leashing his impulse to do bodily harm, Sam snarled at the Krahs before turning on his heel and heading down the way to the eight-hundred curve. By the time he hit the seven hundreds, he had calmed enough to overcome his instinctual drive to return to Misty's and murder the manager. Obviously his rage was an overreaction brought on by the pursuit of his mate. Carpus had not known he was insulting Sam's mate. She was not wearing his family mark over her breast, nor would her clothing reflect his house colors—brown and blue for earth and sky.
Sam cursed as, far overhead, an industrial-sized fan started up and sterilizer sprayed, stirring and cleaning the air—and weakening his mate's scent. He would not lose her. If he had to go into every establishment in the whole damn ring, then that's exactly what he would do. Lucky for him, her sweet scent reemerged just outside Motel Mehendra, a sagging two-story building with hourly rates.
His heart thumped hard when he walked into the lobby and saw his mortal mate speaking to a stoop-backed elderly male who stood behind the counter. She was lovely. Her white-blonde hair cascaded down to her small waist and slight hips like a tumble of frothy waves. Her bare feet showed signs of a moderate chemical burn from that trash bot and her petite frame appeared stiff and determined as she talked to the male.
"I am willing to take any position, Mor," she said. "I'm a fast learner and a hard worker."
The male barked out a low, "Nothing here for you, girl. Move along. I got customers."
She looked over her shoulder, probably searching for customers. Her magenta gaze landed on Sam, held, then returned to the clerk. "If you just give me a chance, I can—"
"You're wasting my time, girl." The old male turned his back, dismissing her.
With a deep breath, she squared her slim shoulders and hurried out the shield door. When she passed by Sam, he drank her in, his whole body straining to absorb her essence. His mouth watered, his muscles tightened, his cock jerked in his trousers.
Calling on his normally steadfast control, he swallowed past his need and slipped her shoes into his sling bag as he followed her out into the wide curveway. When she paused before the dingy diner next door, he approached her.
Hands in his pockets, he spoke softly so as not to startle his mate. "Excuse me, Mar."
She looked up, her magenta eyes shining with tears.
He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He fought harder to ignore her injuries and instead focus on convincing her to come with him.
"Did I hear you say you're looking for work?"
She tilted her head to the side, reminding him of a bird. "Honorable work," she clarified, suspicion lacing her tone.
"Of course." He bowed his head to her in respect. "I have such a position at my family home on Twellen Moon. We are looking for a domestic, as our mining business has taken off and now demands most of our time."
Eyes wary, she extended her hand. "I'm Achelle."
Interesting that she doesn't offer her surname, he thought before introducing himself. "My name is Samius Pherein, Mar Achelle, but my friends and family call me Sam. It is my pleasure to meet you."
He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing the lightest of kisses on her knuckles so as not to frighten her with his attention. Straightening, he closed his eyes for the briefest moment, licking his lips to taste her. When he met her gaze, her eyes flared in recognition. Her body acknowledged him as her mate even if her mind did not.
This time when he spoke his voice came out deep and gravelly. "Do you have interest in taking a position away from the station?" he asked to distract both of them from the sexual pull that rode their tense bodies.
Her pretty pink lips parted.
Achelle tried to speak but all she could do was suck in a sharp breath and nod her head as if she were a rude child.
What's wrong with me? she wondered. The sudden, intense attraction to the male was not like her at all, but there was something about him—something that went beyond his green-blue eyes that she couldn't stop staring at or his tall, well-built body that she imagined pressing up against, or his smile-lined mouth that she wanted to taste. She trusted him. Naturally, innately trusted this unknown male when she had trusted no one but her mother for so long.
At last, she pulled herself together enough to ask, "Are there any other females at your home, Mor?"
He smiled for the first time and it thrilled her. Little sparks of attraction licked across her skin and brought blood to her cheeks. Damn. No doubt she was turning red. She bit her lip to suppress the crazy desire breaking over her body.
"There are many females on Twellen Moon and two within the household neighboring ours."
She breathed a sigh of relief. If other females lived nearby, surely she would be safe there as well. Still, she didn't want to become stuck if it turned out to be too good to be true.
Samius seemed to read the thoughts on her face because he said, "You could accept on a trial basis. If you are unhappy with anything, I give you my word that I will return you to the station any time you request it."
Achelle breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." Then, taking a leap of faith, she said, "I accept."
A satisfied smile spread across his face, one that sent a shiver up Achelle's spine and made her doubt her decision. There was a world of subtext in the hard lines of his masculine jaw and the twinkling of his soft green-blue eyes.
An Excerpt From: LUNAR LOVERS
Copyright © EMMA ABBISS, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
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