Chronicles of the Malcolm series
by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Chronicles of the Malcolm Book Two
When you make the Devil’s bargain, be prepared to take the heat. A lot of heat.
Most of Xia’s early memories are repressed, thank the Great Cat Mother. But her body remembers how to kill.
The longer she and her fellow Malcolm crewmates are holed up on Cibari hiding from assassins, the twitchier she gets—until the planet’s insanely sexy warlord, Rahal Mizyar, borrows her skills to take out slavers.
Rahal suspects Xia is his mate, but the human-raised female never learned the finer points of felinoid rituals. The solution: make her fall hard and fast for him, even if it means playing dirty.
Hired to determine if Xia is the long-missing granddaughter of the felinoid prime minister, Cal Janssen has finally tracked her down. Getting past Rahal, though, is a problem—until he’s mistaken for a notorious arms dealer and playboy. And he finds himself the object of both Rahal’s and Xia’s seduction.
When their first mission brings Xia’s memories bulleting back to the surface, she realizes she’s fallen for two men who don’t exist. Running away, however, could be her deadliest mistake.
Warning: Contains an assassin with a swiss cheese memory, a badass warlord who’s getting tired of his own con, and a freelance lawman. Secrets, lies, and hot sex with no rules.
Genre: Erotic Sci Fi RomanceBad Kitty Purchase links: Samhain Amazon ARe BAM iTunes Kobo B&N
Content/Theme(s): Aliens, Space opera, Futuristic, Ménage, M/F/M, Spies, Assassins
Release Date: September 22, 2015
Excerpts, Thrill-Kinky & More
Bad Kitty Excerpt:
“Let’s put it this way. You agree to my offer, you get me. Any way you want, for as long as you want.”
“I’m not sure it counts as a good bribe,” Rahal said. “I’m all in for sexytimes with you, don’t get me wrong. But you’ve flat out said you’d sleep with me, so I’ll need more than that to consider it a bargain, not just a good time between two people who want each other already.”
Time for a careless shrug and studying her nails nonchalantly. “I never sleep with anyone. Never spend the night. But I will with you if you want. And, yeah, I was going to sex you once. No one ever gets more than once, even if they’re as good as you probably think you are. But you’ll get me all you want if you let Mik and Gan off the hook. No limits.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “If you say no, I’m out the door and you will never touch me again. But if any harm comes to my fathers because of this little plot of yours, I’ll be the one doing the touching.”
“In a life-ending sort of way?”
“In a life-ending sort of way. When you least expect it. I don’t care how tough you are or how good your bodyguards are. Sooner or later, you’ll slip up and I’ll be there.” Not an empty threat, she realized. He was good. He was probably way better than she was. But if he harmed her family, he was dead.
Rahal laughed. It sounded menacing, but mischievous, and definitely erotic. It made her shiver with lust right down to the tip of her tail. She hoped she wouldn’t have to cut off her chance to taste more of the beautiful body she’d enjoyed.
“You are so sexy, Xia. Hot and evil and good at the same time, and good’s something I don’t see enough of. You make death threats seem like the most erotic thing ever. I’ve had plenty and, trust me, they don’t usually affect me that way. So I’ll take you up on this, make you the face of my campaign to stop child abuse and slavery. Leave your dads out of it. In exchange, you’ll share my bed every night for as long as I find it entertaining. Which might be a long time.”
A cold lump formed in her stomach at the words share my bed, but she’d find a way to deal. After all, she’d just told him her deep, dark secret, that she’d been a slave herself. And maybe he’d wear her out so much she wouldn’t be able to find the dark place, so he wouldn’t hear her whimper. “Deal,” she said, extending her hand.
He shook her hand. “Deal. But I can think of better ways to formalize it than a handshake.”
She tried to keep her cool. She really did. But what came out of her mouth was “Great stars, yes. Here. Now.”
“Hands and knees.” His voice deepened to a rumbling, prurient purr. When she didn’t drop quickly enough for his taste, he gave her a little shove.
She didn’t stumble and she figured he didn’t expect her to. Balance was too well engrained in their species, an instinct that, even spending most of her life among clumsy species like humans and Furagi couldn’t dim. Instead of an awkward fall, she used the energy of his push to spring to the ground, landing on all fours. She looked back over her shoulder, arched the long length of her spine and bared her fangs at Rahal in challenge. Her tiny wrap skirt and halter wouldn’t be in the way, but she untied a few knots and let them fall to the floor.
Naked was better.
She crouched lower on her hands, raising her now-naked ass in the air, spread her legs wider to show off her wet sex then curved her tail high and to one side. Without even thinking about it, she growled deep in her throat.
He slithered out of his pants. Then he pounced, a graceful, lithe movement that ended with her as trapped as any prey she’d ever caught, his teeth at the back of her neck. “Mine,” he chortled. “Mine, mine, mine.” His voice went singsong.
Bad Kitty Purchase links: Samhain Amazon ARe BAM iTunes Kobo B&N
by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Chronicles of the Malcolm Book One
Sexual freefall is like a game of chicken, except the first one to let go wins.
Humans may have expanded to the stars, but they still have the annoying need to work for a living. Which is why Rita, crew member of the space freighter Malcolm, is stuck collecting recyclable slag rather than attending her favorite festival celebrating love and sexuality.
Things go from boring to interesting when she discovers a badly injured man who’s been thrown into a recycling bin to die. The catch, he’s gorgeous, winged, and naked.
Drax Jalricki, reformed (mostly) art thief and reluctant covert operative, is on an undercover mission to protect three planets when someone in his own government brands him a traitor. By virtue of association, Rita and her crew are going down with him.
From their first, hide-in-plain-sight quickie, the erotic spark between Rita and Drax is fueled by danger and adrenaline. But their growing suspicion that there’s more to their connection than lust may not matter if they don’t live through the night.
Warning: Hero and heroine who straddle the line of criminal behavior—and definitely violate public indecency statutes. Exhibitionist, dangerous sex. Dark, sordid pasts. Wild risk-taking. Giggly cat-girl sidekick who’s not just another pretty…tail. And the greatest risk of all: true love.
Genre: Erotic Sci Fi RomancePurchase Thrill-Kinky at: Samhain Amazon ARe BAM iTunes Kobo B&N
Content/Theme(s): Aliens, Space opera, Futuristic, Kink, Spies, Wings, Caper
Release Date: May 12, 2015
Rita used the antigrav to raise the bin’s heavy lid, then carefully moved the floater over so she could peer inside. Sympathy for animals or not, she’d rather keep a safe distance from a startled, potentially irate thing with teeth and claws.
At first, what she was seeing didn’t make sense: rust, amber and saffron-colored feathers, tipped with black, and a swath of something green and purple that might have been festival draperies.
A gigantic bird?
But there weren’t any birds on San’bal, according to what she’d been able to learn on the Galaxinet, and she hadn’t seen anyone on her previous visit. If there had been birds, Xia would have chased and probably caught them, even if they’d been as big as this appeared to be.
A discarded costume with an animal underneath it? Part of last night’s festivities had involved the locals all running around in fabulous costumes, drinking copious quantities of the green bubbly booze.
Some costumed person who’d enjoyed way too much of green bubbly and had climbed into a recycling bin to sleep it off? It didn’t seem like a desirable location for that, but maybe his equally drunk friends tossed him in as a joke.
While she was still trying to sort it out, the lump of feathers moved.
Opened his eyes.
Stars and moons! Not a bird, not a costumed drunk—a Banjali.
Maybe she should have thought of that sooner, but you hardly ever saw Banjalis off Banjal. Their glorious wings were only fully functional on low-gravity planets, and anything approaching Old Earth norm, like San’bal, was uncomfortable.
“Hey, are you all right?” Rita asked, hoping he could understand her. “Need a hand getting out?” The gravity was probably too high for him to fly easily, especially if he was hung over.
The Banjali stirred, giving her a better view.
Definitely male. Definitely gorgeous. And definitely naked. Xia’s tail would have started twitching at first sight.
The pleasure of that view, however, was spoiled by the strips of purple and green synthsilk—they could have been torn from the buntings that draped anything in the city that didn’t move fast enough—gagging him and binding his ankles and wrists.
And by his injuries.
The poor man looked like he’d had a run-in with an Arcturian bearcat. His golden skin was a mass of bruises, scrapes and shallow cuts, one eye swollen shut. But Arcturian bearcats didn’t use laserpistols, and she was pretty damn sure the wound in his shoulder was a pistol shot. No one injury seemed life-threatening—and Rita, thanks to Buck’s twitchy temper and Gan and Mik’s noble but dangerous hobby, not to mention their propensity for taking jobs first and asking questions later, had seen a few life-threatening injuries in her time—but he had to be in a world of pain. All the banging she’d heard must have been him flapping and thrashing while trying to roll over. That must have been some kind of fun with a laserpistol wound in his shoulder.
“Hang on, buddy,” she said. “I’ll get you out of there.”
With luck, she wouldn’t hurt him more in the process. The antigrav wasn’t meant for moving living things, and while she didn’t see any obviously dangerous wounds, he might have internal damage.
She lowered the floater, parked it over the bin, and lowered herself in.
She knelt next to him, feeling the slag pricking at her skin through her coveralls. If it felt that unpleasant to her, how much worse did it feel for him, naked?
The first step was removing the gag.
His skin was warmer than human norm, but she had no idea if he was feverish or if that was normal for a Banjali. Dirty and tangled as it was, his long hair, the color of rust, felt like heavy silk against her hands as she gently reached under his head, and his skin felt almost as silky…
Damn, it really had been too long. The guy was hurt and someone had a serious case of hate for him. Those weren’t random cuts and bruises like you’d get in an accident or a bar fight. Someone had been cutting the poor bastard methodically. Torturing him, either before or after beating the crap out of him and shooting him several times.
This was not the time for her to be noticing details like the weight of his hair and the texture of his skin, or the amazing depths of his dark golden-brown, almond-shaped eyes.
And certainly not the time to notice how his proximity, even his battered, semi-conscious proximity, made her nipples perk up.
Although if he could look good in his condition, he must be white-hot stellar when he wasn’t tied up, bleeding and groggy.
Her hands shook as she drew the fabric away from his mouth, wincing when she saw the blood on it, saw how swollen his poor mouth was.
He swallowed deeply, whispered, “Thank you,” in a husky whisper. A nice, deep voice, but it sounded strained, as if he’d been trying to yell through the gag. “Please…can you help me?”
“That’s what I’m here for. Well, at least that’s what I’m here for now. I was here to collect the slag for recycling.” She stroked the ends of his hair, figuring that those, at least, couldn’t hurt, then went to work on the bonds around his wrists. The knot was tight enough that she had to use a knife to cut it. His eyes grew wide when he saw the blade and she could feel the black tips of his bright feathers quivering.
He’d definitely been tortured. Bastards. She didn’t know what this guy’s story was, but he couldn’t possibly deserve this. Even if he’d done something evil—and just because a guy was handsome didn’t mean he wasn’t a nasty piece of work—you didn’t torture people. Kill them before they killed you, if necessary, but you did it clean.
At least that was what Mik said. Personally, she tried to avoid situations where she might have to make that kind of decision. She’d gotten great at affecting quick getaways and dragging her more belligerent crewmates along with her. Sometimes she even managed to do it before someone got hurt.
“Please…” he repeated.
“Hush. I’ll get you to the hospital.” She reached for the com-pad at her hip, meaning to call for the emergency squad and the police.
Faster than she would have expected a Banjali to move in such high gravity, he grabbed her wrist. “No authorities. Please. Can’t risk it.”
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