Meeting My Furry Husbando - Morning Dew Farms Demo Part 2

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Tristan dreamed of being a wizard his entire life. He's the great grandson of the wizard who protects his village and the first one to show any affinity for magic in three generations.

After waiting fiveever for his great grandfather to take him as his apprentice it's finally happened! He's been summoned up to the tower where his great grandfather watches over the village. But it's not what he expects...

Percival has no intention of mentoring him. He's eager to leave for a smutty vacation from his village-protecting duties. Tristan needs to take over, and that means picking a mentor from three demons Percival lined up for him.
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The demons will give Tristan the magic he needs to become a wizard, but for a price! ...His butt.
Fortunately these demons love humans and really want to connect with one. Tristan has a chance to fall in love with one of three demons, but which one will he chose?

Spicy Ecchi Content + A Yaoi Fantasy Story + A Dash of Comedy = My Magical Demon Lover, a 'mature players' dating sim that puts the wannabe wizard Tristan with his choice of three hot demons.

Three sultry routes, 50,000 words, and 10 endings! Choices matter and there's a high replay value. Pick correctly for maximum love, wizarding skills, and sexy times!

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SENSITIVE Yaoi Hentai Gay Erotica

 

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Sen has no memory of the castle he’s in or the princess he’s about to marry. Things grow even more confusing when the handsome demon god Lilivite shows up to kidnap his bride.  He claims Sen was his lover, and if he wants to leave him for this woman he’ll have to go to his dark realm and rescue her.

Somehow, Sen knows it’s the truth.  Nothing makes sense except what he felt when he saw the demon Lilivite.  He’ll go to the dark realm, rumored to have energies so perverse men die of exhaustion when they dare enter, and find his answers from the demon who so compels him.

Loaded with yaoi hentai scenes, male/male loving, touching romance, and a mystery to be unraveled.  A full novel in one installment with a guaranteed HEA!

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Excerpt ~

The image in the mirror before him came forth through a haze that Sen knew was in his own mind.  He focused on his blue eyes, finding them dull and weary.  The rest of his face surfaced into view, then his shoulders and chest.

There was a balding male human next to him weaving paper flowers into the locks of his hair.  The oddness of that struck him first, then he realized he wore the white and lace tunic of a groom about to get married.

Panic, like a fist reaching into his chest and squeezing, overcame him.

*This is not where I’m supposed to be.*

Something snapped in his mind, clearing his vision all at once.  He bolted up from the ornate chair before the mirror.  His attendant floundered back.

“What am I doing here?  Where is Lilivite!”  He scanned the room while waiting for the answer.  Anguish uncorked in his chest.  His beloved demon wasn’t here—they’d been separated long enough for him to ache from missing him.

The cowering man kept as far from him as the small room would allow.  “Calm yourself, your majesty, please.  All is well.”

Sen lifted a hand and summoned the power of the light.  A ball of crackling blue energy appeared above his fingers.  “Where is Lilivite?  Is that who I’m marrying?”

The fear in the man’s face broke into momentary confusion.  “Of course not.”

“Damn it.”  He let the energy dissipate and stomped past him.  “This is my father’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Oh dear.”  The attendant sheepishly followed.  “But you can’t go, your majesty, you are to marry the princess.”

The room led outward into a dark stone corridor that smelled of must.  “I’m not marrying your fucking princess.”  He spied an exit to an arcade and strode for it.  “How did I get here?  The last thing I remember is—”

The arched door led to a courtyard crowded with humans assembled for a wedding.  They turned toward him in shock.
Sen scanned the throng.

*He’s not here.  Oh, gods—where are you Lilivite?*

The mortals were uniformly pale-skinned and dressed in layered finery.  Above them the sky was clogged with fat bruised clouds obscuring nearly all the daylight.  Sen glowered at them.

“What village is this?  Trumeldon?  Fayeton?”  He sneered.  Those were the only two villages of white-skinned humans he knew of.  “It doesn’t matter.”  His voice rose up in a shout.  “I’m leaving!  try to stop me and I’ll destroy you!  I’ll destroy this whole castle if I have to!”

His father, white-bearded, stout, and standing a head higher than the tallest human, shoved his way through the crowd, instantly knocking all the fierceness from Sen’s face.

“Oh, fuck!”

Terror launched him into a panicked sprint.  His thoughts raced.  How could his father be in a mortal village?  Standing among them as though he weren’t the very god they worshipped?

Sen crashed into his attendant.

“Out of my way!”

Before he could shove the harried man his feet dragged backwards on the ground.  Sen’s face clenched in a sob.

“No!”

Magic energies pulled him before his father and made his knees buckle.  A round steel cage crashed over him with enough force to crack the stones embedded in the walkway.

“Lilivite!”  He forced a scream past the anguish built in his throat.  “Save me!”

His father sneered down through the angled bars with his glowing yellow eyes narrowed.  “He doesn’t know you’re here.  Why do think I’ve put you in this pathetic excuse for a mortal village?  He’ll never find you!”

The cruel words seized his middle, making him crumble to the ground in anguish.  Then desperation asserted itself over his grief.  What was his father planning?  To exile him to some dreary mortal village for the rest of his existence?

He scrambled to the edge of the cage and sent up the largest blue bolt he could conjure.  It hurtled to the sky, breaking through the dark clouds.

“Lilivite!  Save me, damn you!”

A ball of yellow energy, segmented by the bars of the cage, crashed into his middle.  Sen’s body collided with the opposite side of the cell before he could finish his scream.  He fell limply forward onto the round area of floor the cage allowed him.  For long moments Sen could comprehend nothing except the blinding red pain from his father’s blast.  His chest and torso were now bare where he connected to the cooling flagstones.  The remainder of his groom’s tunic hung in tatters from his sleeves.

Already his flesh was knitting and the pain growing duller.  He could not yet open his eyes, but the throbbing between his temples quieted enough for him to make out voices, the first being a witches’ hiss.

“I buried his memories as deep as they would go, my lord.  Any deeper, and his mind would be damaged beyond repair.”
“So damage it.”  This was the angry voice of his father, low and bellowing without needing to be loud.  Sen could imagine the fragile pale humans he’d seen cringing away from him.  The presence of their god had to be more terrible than they could have ever imagined.

“I don’t care if you make him a simpleton,” his father continued.  “Eradicate Lilivite from his mind.  If you fail again, it will be your death.”

“I will not fail, my lord, but he shall never again be your son.  He shall know only this mortal life you’ve devised for him.  Is this truly your wish?”

“Yes!”

The immediate reply gave Sen a sting just as potent as the prior blast.  Oh gods, how could you do this!  He tried to lift himself but his strength hadn’t returned to his arms. 

“What good is a son if Lilivite has enchanted him?  He has been turned into a weapon against me.  For my own survival he must be vanquished!”

“So be it, my lord.”

Sen forced himself to lift his head.  He saw the witch who had green shimmery eyes like a fruit-fly’s filling most of her grey-skinned face.  Tendrils of black hair moved like snakes on her head, mesmerizing him, while the rest of her was concealed by a blue cloak of crushed velvet.

Loka.  His only friend in the fortress of the sun.  She wouldn’t really destroy his mind would she?

“Wait…”  His word sounded heavy in his throat.  “Father…”

“Save your breath,” the god Baldeer sneered down at him once more.  “It is only because you’re my son that I don’t kill you.”

“I was never going to bother you ever again!  You’re going too far!  I love him!”

Loka’s magic manifested as glowing red hands.  They floated into the cage as Sen scrambled back.  The hands dove through his white hair, clasping either side of his head, and making him still.

Then there was blackness.

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Possession 1

Possession 1

The demon possessed man Jonah has fallen under the dark authority of Priest Sabaste, patron of the four gods of Rainor.  Sabaste crosses boundaries that no priest should, forcing Jonah to confront the vulnerability of his condition.

He’s thrust into the intrigue of the Rainor court, while at the mercy of its diabolical priest.
    
The start of a dark sensual slow-burn series by the author of Maelstrom!

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Excerpt ~

1 The Sheriff and the Half-Sister

“You have to oversee things, brother.”  Valeria twisted her apron in both her fists as she beseeched Priest Sabaste in the stable.  “He’s possessed of a demon.  A holy man must be present or he’ll wreak havoc.” 

Her body language bespoke anxiety, but Sebaste knew it wasn’t due to the disturbed man in his church aspe.  His estranged half-sister fretted over asking him favors. 

“I wish not to get involved in pointless pursuits.”  He kept his gaze steady on her, forcing her to look at the floor to avoid the fire in his blue eyes.  Valeria, wide-faced beneath dark blond curls and with lines on the corners of her kind gray eyes, shrank before him.

“But it’s for Sabina,” she said, uttering Sabaste’s twin sister’s name in a cajoling way.  “She must be sick over this.  Her little one’s been missing so long.  If it could help—”

“I don’t believe she’s concerned.” 

This made Valeria gape at him.  Sheriff Edmont picked himself off the stable post he’d been leaning on behind her.  The man, whose face reminded Sebaste of a weasel, planted his skinny legs wide and crossed his arms.  The priest didn’t allow him the benefit of a glance.

“It was only a girl-child.  Sabina’s focus is on producing heirs.  She considers her a wasted pregnancy.” 

“Hey, now watch it,” Edmont said.  Sabaste eyed him while noting his vernacular had grown more like the peasantry.  “Juelet’s a niece to you and me both, a sweet little girl.  Don’t be saying her mother doesn’t love her.  The only one who’s cruel enough to hate an innocent lamb like that is you.”

Beside him the priest’s black stallion bristled at the raised voice.  His focus returned to the beautiful creature’s gleaming hide.  He worked his brush through its mane twice, forcing both Valeria and Edmont to endure an extended silence.

“You brought a charlatan to our keep, Sheriff.  Kindly engage him in his scam as your wont and then get him the hell out of my church.”

“He ain’t a charlatan, you pompous ass!”

“That’s what I was going to mention,” Valeria said.  Sabaste gave her the benefit of his attention since she was by no means as despicable as the sheriff.  “He didn’t come offering to help for a fee.  He was kidnapped and brung here.”

“Arrested,” Edmont corrected.

“Well, brought against his will in any case.  He’s truly possessed of this demon or spirit, and it sees things that none of us can.”

“You ought to let me tell it,” Edmont said, “if your brother will hear me for half a minute.”

Sabaste led his horse to its stall a few steps away.  “I’m listening.”  An arrested man was now worthy of his interest.  What might the pathetic fellow give to earn his freedom?    

“So Jonah’s his name, no surname given.”  Edmont paused to clear his throat, a cue for insecurity Sabaste recognized.  “He lives alone out in the moors in some wooden shack, goddess only knows how long.  Apparently he sells the coal out there, has some arrangement with a sheepherder, a grocer, and a rye farmer, what have you.”

“Get to the point.”

“That’s what I’m doing!  I’m saying he’s coming back late from the market one time and a man named Otho, a bootmaker well known in the county, sees that his eyes have gone red, his teeth have gone sharp, horns sprouted out of his head, claws on his fingers, and black marks about his face.  Otho runs at him with his pitchfork, but the demon makes him freeze with fear.  He tells him he ought to get home because his baby’s coming early and sideways.  Sure enough it’s true, and Otho is able to find the midwife in time to save both his wife and child.  Otho tells a few others, and they tell a few others, and so a woman goes to him about her young one who was carried off by a bird.  And she learns the girl wasn’t taken by a bird like her husband said, but she’d been hauled to a brothel.  She retrieves her before her virginity is sold.  There’s many more stories as this.  He helps some here and there, always saying never to trouble him again.  He says what has him possessed is evil and wants to do harm.  He tells all to stay away.”

Sabaste held back signs of his burgeoning excitement.  It was likely untrue.  Both Edmont and the peasants of their county were dullards.

But, oh if such a creature truly did exist.  

“I asked him to help with young Juelet.  He wouldn’t open his door to me—demanded I get off his property.  He knew full well I was the sheriff.  I had no choice but to come back with my men.”  He looked at Valeria.  “It was the right thing to do, taking him.  If he really is a demon, we can’t have him loose in the county.”

“You’ll talk to him, won’t you, brother?”  Valeria’s nerve had been reinvigorated.  “The men are all scared of him.”

Sabaste made a forthright stride past both of them.  “I’ll speak to him alone.”

“I need to be there!” Edmont said.  

He heard Valeria softly convincing him to let him have his way.  In such situations she proved invaluable.  The sheriff could yield to her without compromising his pride.  

The stable connected to the manor house, which was not quite a castle, but was still the second most impressive building in the county.  The thatched roof worked around windowed dormers.  A balcony stood on tall piers off the second story, with rolling views of the low meadows and village.  The concrete was immaculately shaped and whitewashed, with decorative shutters adorning numerous small windows.  

He continued to his church beyond this, the Temple of the Four Gods, which dwarfed the manor enough to keep it enclosed in its shadow three hours of every day.  His roofs were made of rounded clay slates, baked a hundred at a time in former church’s kiln.  Large stones comprised the main floor, as many as the county’s meager foundry had to provide.  Smaller rocks had to be used to create the walls of his spires and great tower.  

He entered through doors of colored glass to the nave of his church.  At the end of the central aisle he could see sheriff’s men, a half-dozen uncouth barbarians desecrating the sanctity of his apse.  He noticed their muddy boot prints on the polished wood of his floor.  It was peat and darkened soil from the moors.  

As he drew nearer, he saw a youth among them who was damp from his left shoulder to the soles of his boots.  He visualized how the arrested man must have tossed him in a desperate bid to flee.  The others, twice as thick as the youth, had subdued him without succumbing to the muck.

So he may not truly be possessed of a demon.  He was unable to summon its preternatural strength to escape them.

They clustered around the office of his high druid.  A few who’d been seated came to their feet as he approached.  They gave him questioning looks for an instance, then avoided his radiant eyes.  Sabaste said nothing to them, produced a key for the door, and went in.

2 The Prisoner

Seated on a carved wooden bench before the desk of his druid was a man of thirty, his brown shock of hair tussled, his worn hemp trousers and long-tunic caked in mud.  He sat huddled and holding himself like the personification of a trapped fawn.  The raising and lowering of his shoulders with each breath came faster than they should, as though he were still panicked.  Despite filth coating one side of his face, Sabaste saw beauty.  He had a narrow cleft chin beneath a wide pleasing jaw and large soulful eyes that matched in depth what his own had in fire.    

He fixed these wide eyes on Sabaste, and his breaths grew more rapid still.  The priest closed the door but made no move to sit.  He allowed the man to absorb him on his feet, where he could present the most intimidating impression.  He wore a black linen Cossack which started at his collared neck and draped with a skirt to the floor.  His thin cloak, also black as coal pitch, remained hooded over his dark locks of hair.  It shadowed his eyes, but in no way inhibited their brilliance.

“You’re Jonah,” Sabaste said, while moving to his druid’s desk, “the man possessed by a demon?”

Jonah’s voice came out in the full tenor of desperation.  “I’ve done nothing wrong.  If my presence offends the county I’ll take my leave at once and will never return.  I beg to plead before his lordship.”

Sabaste looked him over once more.  He hadn’t expected a cultured tongue to match the refinement of his face.  Now he was forced to wonder whom he was dealing with.

He entwined his fingers and tented his thumbs.  “The earl heeds my council on all matters, particularly those involving demonic spirits.  Plead before me, as you would him.”

Jonah swallowed, collecting himself before beginning once more.  “I beg you to let me leave.”

“What of the earl’s missing daughter?”

Genuine bewilderment formed on his face.  “His daughter is missing?”

Sabaste nodded.

“I knew nothing of this.  They…didn’t tell me anything.”

Of course not, the buffoons.

“So I’ve been brought here to give aid?”

The priest leaned back his head to look down his nose at the man.  “Can you find her?”

“Yes.”

His lack of hesitation made Sabaste’s brow twitch.

“He can—or he can tell you what’s become of her.”

“‘He’ being your demon?”

The man pursed his lips and nodded.  “And then I may go free?  Once I’ve assisted you, I can return to the moors?”

“I’ll make a determination on the matter after you produce the girl.”

“I won’t help you unless you promise to set me free.”

The bluff made Sabaste grin.  “I promise you absolutely nothing.  And you will help us.  You’d be wise not to test me.”

Jonah bowed his head, both angry and resigned.  The priest most enjoyed the anger, since it heralded an enticing conflict.  Were he too complaint Sabaste would get bored.

Proceed slowly, cautiously, estimate him fully before deciding which move to make.  He was so rarely at a disadvantage with his adversaries.  For the first time he knew nothing of his opponent’s powers.   

                               

The priest waited half a minute before moving, to be sure the man had yielded to his control.  Then he rose and tipped his chin at him.

“Come.  You may cleanse yourself of this mud in my quarters.  I’ll find you a fresh set of clothes.”

The soulful eyes looked upwards, absorbing the grain of kindness like succor.  He climbed to his feet, still huddling his arms around his body, and followed Sabaste out.

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My Two Jaguars MMF Bisexual Paranormal Romance

Her Two Jaguars Bisexual Paranormal Romance

Her Two Jaguars Bisexual Paranormal Romance

They battled over her, but she pleads for both of them to join in her bed.
Votan is a proud warrior who knows he deserves Michelle.  She gives meaning to the many lives he's lived.  He lost her to his despised rival Maximon in his last incarnation, but this new life offers him a chance to redeem himself. 
Votan yearns to claim his mate.
Wall Street millionaire Maximon bonded with Michelle in a past life after Votan made a dire mistake.  He didn’t expect the jaguar queen to summon his spirit in this life, but it’s a gift he’ll cherish.
Maximon is happy to steal his beloved from his enemy.
Broke college graduate Michelle doesn't care that she's a Mayan jaguar goddess.  She's just trying to find a job. Her spirit-bonding comes to her in dreams, the subconscious act of her goddess essence which she hasn’t yet embraced.  In the morning she realizes something unbelievable happened.
The three of them have spirit-bonded to each other.
My Two Jaguars is the bisexual retelling of Mated to the Jaguars which has over two dozen five star reviews.  Completely rewritten, this thrilling romantica adventure contains explicit red hot scenes of MF, MM, and bisexual ménage.  A happily ever after is guaranteed!

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Excerpt ~
Michelle took her jaguar form and returned to the main living area to recline on the couch. She’d go into the spirit world and check the essence of Ixchel for any memories of Caquix. Her chances felt slim. The stream overwhelmed her too much to withstand for long. Still…doing nothing in response to the encounter seemed foolish. If she needed to act, her goddess spirit would tell her what to do.
Her cat body always fell asleep quickly. She entered the spirit world and swam above her light essence.
First she checked for any demons annoying her parents. The things looked like small monkeys with short deformed limbs. She'd sic her claws and teeth into the little monsters. Once she ripped apart one trying to cause her father to get into a car accident. There was another that meant to have her mom fired from her work. She didn’t understand how she knew this—it was a spirit power she'd tapped. Any demon out to hurt the people she loved got destroyed.
She waded her paws around the stream of light looking for any dark spots where a monkey might emerge. This was procrastination. She was going to have to dive in. The prospect made her tense. Her essence overwhelmed her too much to stay in the light for long. She knew if she let it consume her she became the goddess Ixchel. It seemed easier to live her life as the human Michelle.
Far ahead of her, on the horizon of the stream, she saw a dark shape larger than one of the monkey demons. She got an instinctive jolt of terror. Anything bigger than a monkey demon represented more power than she’d ever encountered in this world. As she stared at the form, she realized she sensed no evil. Her feet moved toward it without her willing them.
The figure became clear fast because it came towards her. She beheld a beautiful male jaguar, huge and majestic, slinking near her with his hypnotic yellow eyes locked on her.
Votan!
She stopped and sat on her haunches. If her cat form made human expressions her jaw would have been dropped open.
‘Ixchel…why have you gone to Maximon?’ His mouth didn’t move as the words came forth. He spoke with his spirit voice. ‘You’re my mate. You must be with me.’
Oh my God, how awkward. How did she explain this?
‘I don’t understand why—but I’m spirit-bonded to both you and Maximon this time.’
Votan stopped moving toward her. She sensed a smoldering cauldron of emotion emanating from him. She wanted to shrink away.
His eyes grew pinched. ‘And you picked to that disgraceful profiteer, instead of me?’
Disgraceful profiteer?
‘It’s not like that. I—’
Votan leapt at her with a roar.
Holy shit!
Michelle scampered back, but the massive beast collided into her, somersaulting them over the stream. She struggled to get onto all fours. Votan bit her scruff and her limbs became weak. She realized he'd mounted her.
Immediately, and with instinct instead of thought, she crouched to present herself. The penetration she braced for never happened.
He got off her, but she remained in the compliant position for more.
‘See, Ixchel? Your spirit knows you're mine. I’m coming for you.’
He leapt into the stream of light and vanished.

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Ensnared Bride

Yaoimila has a new sci-fi romance!!

Ensnared Bride

Enslaved Earthling Monica just wants to get through another day without being punished by her alien masters.  When the warlord Javintore comes to visit Monica is tricked into helping with an assassination plot.  Now she could face execution for her alleged crime.

Javintore decides to claim Monica rather than have her killed. He’s intrigued by this pretty human slave who dared to try to kill a Hax-Rah warlord.

Monica fears she’s gone from a bad situation to a worse one. Hax-Rah warlords are notorious, and she’s already gotten on Javintore’s bad side.  By the author of Indentured Bride!   

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Excerpt ~

“By my clock you should have 36 cores done,” Ducra said to Monica in perfect English.  The alien overseer dumped the slave’s pile of pink luminescent saccus nut cores off the metal plate she’d piled them on.

Monica continued struggling to remove the core she was working on without rupturing it (a ruptured core was a tr’sark zap).  She didn’t know how many were on the plate.  Each one she fell short of her quota was a zap.

“…thirty-three, thirty-four…”  Ducra put the last core back on the plate.  “Thirty-five.”  The alien’s pale yellow eyes narrowed at her.

She gave a final gentle tug on her nut and the core popped free.  Monica’s chest heaved with rapid breaths.  Her thundering heart felt like it was going to erupt from her chest.

Ducra took the final core and placed it in her collection bag.  “Thirty-six.”

Oh thank God!

Fortunately Ducra wasn’t one of Monica’s crueler masters, who would shock her anyway just for fun.  The red and purple hued alien seemed to see doling punishments as just another chore.

“Empty your waste bucket before you go to sleep,” Ducra said.  She placed Monica’s paper-wrapped food ration on her workstation and filled her metal pitcher with water.  “Keep the stink down.  We have visitors coming.”

“Yes, serat,” Monica said with her head bowed.  She waited for the alien to move on to the slave next to her before snatching the bundle.

Monica gobbled what she assumed to be a clump of soggy ground beef.  She downed the liter of tepid water with loud gulps.  Once her thirst and hunger pains had been seen to she gathered the bucket she defecated in.

The other two women in her small work area didn’t earn any shocks.  Monica let her tightened shoulder muscles slacken when she heard Ducra exit the room.

She brought her bucket to the sewer hole across the concrete floor.  Another slave, Emory, came beside her to dump hers also.

“Visitors, huh?”  The bony blond woman in her fifties tipped her bucket into the hole. The stench that repelled upwards no longer bothered Monica.  “Maybe it’s the Alliance?”

“Why do you get your hopes up?” Monica said.

She took her empty bucket back to her station.  The cot behind her work stool was only half the length of her 5’ 6” body.  She had to curl her knees to her stomach in order to fit.

Nine days without a zap.  Monica drew a deep breath of air into her slender frame.  Keep it going.  You may never have to feel that pain ever again.  The pitiful hope didn’t raise her spirits, but at least it kept her from sinking any lower.

She imagined herself swimming in an Olympic-sized pool until she drifted to sleep.

Hours later high-pitched alien voices worked their way into her dream.  She squinted in a state of half-wakefulness trying to make sense of the noise.  Then something touched her hand.

Monica jolted awake. Hovering over her cot were two tall pale green aliens with grotesquely long faces and glistening black eyes. Panic seized her at once, but then her morning amnesia faded.  She remembered that she lived in a world where weird aliens were plausible.

The beings, clad in long gray gowns with long arms jutting from draping sleeves, spoke to each other in high-pitched noises that seemed to echo from inside their own mouths.

Monica stared at them, huddled against the wall.  They’d pushed aside her work table to get to her.  These must have been the visitors Ducra mentioned.

“Let me taste your skin.”

Monica’s eyes widened.  The alien switched seamlessly to English.

“Don’t!”  A sick thud of horror hit the bottom of her stomach.

The bald alien scowled.  “It won’t hurt.”  Its gangly arm lowered to clutch her wrist.  An impossibly long tongue fell out of its mouth.  The tip moistened her palm and then withdrew.  It let her go to resume its chatter with the other alien. Monica assumed it was reporting what it had tasted.

“Good friends,” Ducra said from behind them.

They both turned and their gowns separated enough for Monica to see past them.  Ducra was wearing a flouncy red dress, something that had belonged to an Earthling at some point.  It fit her bulky muscles poorly.

“May I present the Mek-lord, Javintore.”

She stepped aside to reveal a towering Hax-Rah male, clad in a black shoulder mantle, a black cowl which hid his eyes, and low black pants that strained to hold bulging leg muscles.  The rest of his red/purple flesh was bare.  Monica’s eyes absorbed the regal nose, lips, and chin left exposed by the cowl, and then dripped down to thick muscular pectorals capped with dark pink nipples.  From there her gaze lowered to his bare torso, catching the definition of his abs.  She stopped at his low waste band, which had the darkening of pubic hair.  The sides of his groin muscles made a V shape over his hips.  

Unnggghh.

She realized he was the first pleasant sight she’d seen in the last ten years.  The vision stirred up feelings she scarcely recognized.  She thought her body had been long dead to desire.  Years of torture made sex the furthest thing from her thoughts.

“Wonderful,” one of the greenish aliens said.  “There is no chance the Alliance is aware of your presence?”

“Well,” Ducra said, “we had to make up an excuse for a ship as large as his being in orbit.  We said he’s picking up energy cores for the robots.  They’ve no idea why he’s really here.  These underground bunkers are the perfect place for a meeting. The Alliance doesn’t even know they exist.”

“Let’s hurry up, all the same.”  This was Javintore.  “I have a mission to get to.”  His voice was baritone and husky, sending electricity down her spine with every word.  

“Come.”  Ducra led the Mek-lord and the greenish aliens into the next room.

Monica allowed herself a pleasurable shudder.  She was now glad the disgusting aliens had woken her, despite still needing several more hours of sleep.  She quickly faded back into oblivion.

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The Complete Alien's Bride

The Complete Alien’s Bride

Only $.99 for the release, then going to $4.99!  FREE on Kindle Unlimited!  This is the complete Alien’s Bride series by Yamila Abraham.  Hundreds of pages of spicy Alien Sci-Fi Romance, including:
Alien’s Bride:  The full three-part story of Maritza, who was transported 2,000 years into the future to be the bride of the malevolent alien warlord who conquered Earth!

Alien’s Bride Lisette:  Timid enslaved scientist Lisette is drawn to her master Prax-Denay, but he’s from an alien subrace considered too loathsome to breed with humans. She’s instead pressured to marry his superior, the cruel aristocrat Jorenkis.  The sweetest and most tender story of the series!

Bride Games:  Ex-soldier Lenora, and willful slave-women like her, is sent to the Bride Games. If they win they will be granted their freedom. If they lose they must accept a marriage to an alien nobleman.

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Impregnated Alpha

Impregnated Alpha

A new male/male yaoi sci-fi mpreg romance by Yaoimila!!

The alphas of planet Hexor aren’t supposed to get pregnant.  Gruff mine-worker Harsen finds himself in a crisis, but it’s one that could open the door to the kind of love he never felt he deserved.  An mpreg sci-fi romance by the author of Hostile Taking!

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Excerpt ~

Chapter 1

A man crouched in the shadow next to Kemper’s chest closet.  He became aware of him after four months in the arctic cabin.  The man gave no threatening vibrations, so he was likely a beta, like Kemper, or from an alien race that had neither alphas nor betas.  Kemper felt no fear toward him.

He found that if he looked at the shadow the man would vanish.  Kemper could only see him from his side eye, so he made a point not to turn his head toward him. 

“Wonder if the air’s getting harder to breath in here,” Kemper said to his friend.  “Seems that way sometimes.  Stuffy.  Probably should change the filter on the intake.”

The man didn’t answer.   

Kemper snorted and stood, heading to the main vent of the sealed cabin.  Cabin was his Hexor word for the dwelling, but the structure had come from planet Duwasa.  The tiny domed building, seamless and perfectly apportioned for two men, had no word in their language.  He’d never seen anything like it before the Duwasa ‘Protectors of the Suffering’ group had gifted it to him.

It took him only ten steps to cross from one side of the dome to the other.  He popped off the shield to the vent and removed the filter.

“Yep.  Dusty as fuck.  Wonder if I should replace it or just rinse this thing out.  What do you think?”

Again, there was no answer.  Kemper scowled.  His last comment didn’t require a response, but this was a question.  If he was going to lurk in his home he may as well talk to him.

He sighed away his indignation and brought the filter to his sink.

Kemper watched the figure in the shadow with the corner of his eye while running the filter under a strong flow of clean drinkable water (of which he apparently had an endless supply).  Getting mad would have got him no where.  Maybe the guy was scared of him.  Wasn’t he an intruder?  Kemper squared his jaw while ringing out the filter. 

It was time to make a gesture. 

He prepared enough fern-rul egg powder for an extra omelet.  His small table had two chairs.  He set one omelet in front of the empty chair, and then sat across from it to eat his own.  Kemper focused on the food as he spoke.

“That’s for you.  Go on.  I know you’re hungry.”

He ate his meal in customary silence of the dwelling.  When he lifted his head he saw that the second omelet had gone cold.  Past it he saw the shadow beside his chest closet.  It was, as always, completely empty.

A burning ache struck Kemper’s chest.  Then tears grew heavy in the corners of his eyes.  He gave painful short sobs that caused his entire body to quake. 

“Oh, God.”

The upheaval of emotion couldn’t be staunched quickly.  He tried to resume his fantasy of companionship, but arid hopelessness filled him.

What the fuck did I get myself into?

“No,” he said, snuffling loudly.  “You did what you had to.  You had to get away from him.  You couldn’t…”  Emotion began to break in his voice.   “…couldn’t bear that monster’s young.”

More tears came, with sobs potent enough to make his shoulders grow tight. 

At his old depot he’d belonged to the lead alpha, Skrane.  The short but inordinately muscular brute defended his mating rights to him at least twice a day.  He grew disfigured from the fights, and seemed to blame that all on Kemper.  His sharp curses still wrung in the beta’s ears.  He was worthless, homely, pathetic—things Kemper were certain were not true in the beginning, but then became less certain as time went on.  When he tried to leave he was beaten to unconsciousness, then woke with pain that told him he’d been defiled while blacked out.

The Duwasa traders brought non-traders with them during a shipment pickup.  They said they couldn’t stand to see the abuse going on.  Kemper was shocked when their version of a beta, a female, took him aside and told him he didn’t deserve to be mistreated by Skrane.  It was a shock and then he felt like the black skies opened their light to his weary face.

She’s right.  I don’t deserve this.

He’d been beaten down so many years he’d forgotten his own worth.

She said she could hide him away from all alphas in the mountains.  He’d have a warm self-sustaining home that would keep him comfortable for the rest of his life.  They would resupply him as often as needed.  He wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.

“Yes, please!  Take me there.”  He got tearful just at the thought.

“Well, it won’t be right away.”  The small green-haired alien had a strange shape and swollen pectorals.  “We need to find another beta for you to live with.  It’s not easy—most have young, and that complicates things.  You don’t want to go by yourself or it will be too lonely for you.”

“I don’t care about that.  I’ll go alone.  Just get me the fuck out of here.”

The alien pursed her lips, but then nodded.  The sympathy he saw in her face struck him.  He hadn’t seen anything even close to that for so long.  “Of course.  I’ll make it happen.”

Four months had passed and finally he understood.  The agony Skrane had caused dulled in his mind, the nightmares came less frequently, but the current nightmare grew more extreme.  Loneliness was like a black void expanding from his middle.  It threatened to devour him.

He didn’t know how much more he could take.

Kemper went to his door and swung the lever to unlock it.  He wrenched the door open, a blast of icy wind shocking his body.

“Anybody!  Is there anyone!  Please!  Anyone!”

Frost stabbed at his cheeks.  He had to close the door. 

He crumbled in front of it, allowing his body to rock with new sobs.

Chapter 2

The next day he forced down some rehydrated stew with a packet of crackers.  He’d fallen into the numbness that usually followed a breakdown.  Now he no longer avoided looking at the shadow.  There was no one with him, but he was not insane.  If he could hold to his sanity even longer he’d consider that a small triumph.

He got the scent of an alpha and froze, the bite of food staying in his mouth unchewed.  Perhaps he’d established his sanity too hastily.

He swallowed and stood.  Two steps brought him to the vent.  He placed his face against it and inhaled a loud sniff.

If that’s not the scent of an alpha, then I really am going crazy.

He smelled one individual, still far off, perhaps by a mile.  Even at that distance he had the capability of discerning the scent.  It was a remnant of a skill used by their wild ancestors to breed, and was still routinely used by rural alphas. 

Kemper rubbed his hands over his face with a swell of panic.  He’d smelled him, he knew it, but it was impossible.  The nearest depot was over a hundred miles away.  There was nothing but the mountainous ice region surrounding him on all sides.  There couldn’t be an alpha out here.

He had to be hallucinating the smell.

This is a real bad sign, Kemper.

He sat back down to his half eaten meal trying to will himself not to smell the scent.  Knowing it was a hallucination was a sign of sanity, right?  He didn’t celebrate when he smelled it.  He took it for what it was.

As he continued debating himself the essence grew stronger.  He closed his eyes.  He could form a picture of the individual just from the scent.  A smaller alpha.  Weak from fatigue.  Tendrils of distress mired the masculine odor.  Then there was something else.  Kemper couldn’t tell what it was.  The marker hadn’t been on any other alpha he’d encountered before.

He continued sitting for long minutes, shaking his head.  

It’s not real.  It can’t be.

But if it was, the individual would almost be at his door.

Kemper’s legs made him stand without him willing them to.  Then he walked to the door.  His fingers closed around the lever, unlocking it.  He paused.  Sense had caught up to him.  What was he doing?

Kemper continued struggling with his face twisting in indecision.  Then he slid open the door.

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Confiscated Bride

Confiscated Bride

Yaoimila’s Newest Sci-fi Romance! 
$.99 for a limited time or FREE with KINDLE UNLIMITED!
Ambassador Janel is proud to have finally brokered an alliance with the powerful Haraden.  What cinched the deal?  The Haraden warriors want brides. Since war ravaged her planet’s male population they actually have a surplus of women looking for husbands.  It seems like a win-win.
General Kordan, the austere Haraden negotiator Janel spent days wearing down, approaches her out of the blue.  She’s not married—and the warrior general has his eyes on her.  For some reason, she feels compelled to go to him.  
Unfortunately her timing for a visit to a Haraden home world could not have been worse.  Was she being courted or confiscated?  From the author of Indentured Bride!
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~ Excerpt ~
“It is my great honor,” High Council Leader, Ansella Devar-Ne said, “to imprint this permanent Alliance with our new friends, the mighty and honorable Haraden Empire.”
She placed her hand on a panel on the ceremonial table before her.  A massive screen behind her broadcasted the live image of the Haraden viceroy, a wisened blue alien with pronounced jowls. After a moment his hand print appeared beside him on the split-screen.
“The alliance is sealed,” said the viceroy, and then he leaned down to turn off his communicator.  The screen went blank on his side.
The thousands of Malakeezan’s in audience rose in unison with an eruption of cheers.  Janel saw many of her people break into joyful tears from her seat on the stage. Their emotion was reflected within her, but she felt too wrought from her hellish negotiations to show much exuberance.
The very man she’d dueled with sat a few feet away from her on stage, causing her to imagine the sensation of heat emanating from that side.    She rose from her seat and clapped while making sure not to gaze toward the alien general.
“What a joke,” said Councilor Karrin from the opposite side of her.
She eyed him.  The scrawny senior looked shrunken in his ceremonial robes.  “Is there a problem, Councilor?”
“This whole farce of an alliance is a problem.”
She gave him a stony stare.
He turned toward her, while clapping too softly to be heard above the audience’s cheers.  “I beg your pardon, Ambassador; I know you put some measure of effort into brokering this…”
“You’ve no idea the effort I put in.”
“…but we’re selling our spirits to these warlords.  And for what?”
Her eyes narrowed.  “Protection from the Hax-Rah.”
He pulled his wrinkled lips into a grimace.  “Feh.  The Haraden helps no one but themselves.  I tell you, once they get this vaunted grid of theirs up they’ll start pillaging. The few men remaining will be enslaved, and you women, well—”
“Shut your damned mouth, Karrin.”
He scoffed.
The High Council Leader turned to the Haraden delegation seated on the stage a short distance from Janel’s group.  “Good warriors, there’s to be a celebration in the High Council ballroom. If you’ll follow these attendants.” She gestured to three women in starched uniforms.  “I shall meet you there shortly.”
Four blue-skinned Haraden soldiers, bulging with chest and torso muscles which their black formal attire left exposed, looked to their leader, General Kordan.  Her adversary was the eldest of the group, though Janel grudgingly admitted he was still quite handsome.  The general sat with his arms crossed and an expression of disdain.  For a moment Janel thought he was going to decline the invitation.  Instead he flared his nostrils for a snort and gave Ansella a nod.
“Magnificent,” Ansella said.
The aliens filtered off the stage behind the attendants.  Ansella looked towards her group next.  Janel had the seat of honor closest to her beside the six ruling councilors.   All were female except for Karrin.
“I expect you all to be at the party, ladies.  You also Councilor Karrin.”
The old man stomped past the women to leave the stage with a sneer.
Ansella stepped in front of Janel and took her hand.  The High Councilor was a grandmother with kind eyes and soft lines on her face.  She wore her white hair in a loose bun.
“You must attend, Janel.  You’re the guest of honor.”
She closed her eyes with a quiet groan.  “Sella, I don’t want to be anywhere near General Kordan.  He put me through the knife-circle during negotiations.”
Ansella smiled.  “Just make an appearance, dear.  Have a few drinks.  We can’t risk offending them.”
Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh, but she forced herself to nod.
She took a tram home first to change out of her ceremonial robes.  Her closet was full of dour work clothes, some a bit faded and worn.  Janel sighed. What could she wear to a party? Her black gown would do if she added a sash, but she always wore that.  There was a white lace gown, sheer on the stomach and back, that showed a great deal of cleavage and thigh.  She plucked it from her rotating display.  Why not?  The Haraden men were always happy to flaunt their sexy chests and stomachs.  Maybe she’d get that asshole general flustered.
Another tram ride brought her to the council buildings.  She entered the ballroom through a side door, then grabbed a drink and cloistered herself in the furthest seating area from the door.  
Janel slouched back in the soft cushions of a couch.  A pleasant buzz from her strong potion began to course through her.  It allowed her to ignore the low rumble of voices.  A few dozen revelers were already in attendance to schmooze.  She closed her eyes and tried to slacken her tight shoulders.  Maybe if she appeared to be asleep no one would bother her.
She felt a dip in the cushion beside her.  Janel kept her eyelids sealed.
Go away.
“And another thing.  The viceroy couldn’t even attend in person?” Councilor Karrin said.  “What an insult.  Planet Arkzin is only one causeway jump from here.  It’s not even a major Haraden holding.  Who does he think he is?”
Janel leaned forward to massage her temples.  She flashed the old man a dirty look.  He’d changed from his ceremonial robes to what looked like one of his grey work suits.  
The majority of the gathering was still up front near the glavadeer musicians and buffet.  No one other than Karrin had ventured near her far corner.
“Why are you sitting next to me?”
He grudgingly moved over one cushion space.  “You have the right idea.  Who wants to rub noses with these barbarians?”
And also you have no friends.  She leaned back again.  “I have legitimate reason to keep my distance.  General Kordan made negotiations arduous for me.  We went to the Haraden on our knees with every resource we had to offer on a platter for them.  He tried to get far more than that—even more than what the Hax-Rah tried to take from us.  It took me a week to get a reasonable accord.”
“Well of course.  That’s how they are.  You give them a brad they take a braddock.  You think they’ll ever be satisfied?  Ha!”
“They’re honorable.  That’s the whole reason we went to them for an alliance.  They keep their word.”
“You’re a naïve imbecile, Janel.”
She drew a hand over her forehead.  “Please go away.”
“You’re a symptom of the disease of our government.  Female leadership is all about talking, talking, talking.  Some aliens don’t listen.  It was better before the war.  Men knew how to take action.”
She sat up again to glower at him.  “And that’s why there’s so few of you left.  Kindly get the fuck away from me.  There must be someone else you can annoy.”
Karrin scanned the room and rolled back his top lip in disgust.  “Feh.”
She drained the rest of her glass and thrust it at him.  “Make yourself useful then.  Chal-am potion.  A double.”
He took her glass and hoisted himself to his feet.  “I go only because I want a drink for myself.  In my day women serviced men—not the other way around.”
“Just go.”  She closed her eyes again.
For a few moments she enjoyed her solitude.  Then she felt another dip on the cushion beside her.
Janel didn’t bother to look.  “You couldn’t have possibly gotten drinks that fast, Karrin.”
“Are you and he a couple?”
Janel’s eyes opened wide.  Then she sat up with her spine rigid.  General Kordan’s large frame was taking up one and a half of the cushions beside her. He assessed her with auburn eyes that had been hidden by a black skullcap during their negotiations.  Now he allowed glossy black hair to fall in free tresses over his forehead.
She turned from him.  “Me and the Councilor?  No. I…I don’t even like him.”
Kordan gave a grunt and a nod.  “Good.”
She blinked.  Good? Why is it good?
“After this gathering I’m returning to Arkzin.  I would like for you to accompany me.”
Janel’s heart began to thud.  “I beg your pardon?”
Kordan lowered his head.  He was a man used to getting his way, that’s one thing Janel had learned ad nauseam, but they were no longer staring each other down from across the negotiating table. The alliance was sealed.  Her work with him as ambassador was done.  She never had to deal with the demanding alien ever again.  Just why the hell did he want her to go with him to his home world?
“Ambassador…”
“You may call me Janel.  We’ve no longer a need to deal with each other in our official capacities.”  Got it?
Kordan’s auburn eyes fixed on her.  “Janel.”
Hearing him say her name for the first time with his deep gravely voice sent a crackle down her spine.
“I no longer wish to be your enemy.”
The crackling lingered, along with a tightening in the pit of her stomach.
“I’m not sure I understand you,” Janel said.
“It was my duty to be ruthless when we were negotiating the alliance.  My masters told me what I had to gain and I couldn’t fail.  In fact, I was meant to exceed their expectations.”  He paused to sigh.  “You made things more difficult for me than I was accustomed to.  I thought your planet’s use of a female negotiator was a bargaining tactic.  I refused to be disarmed by you—and yet I was affected.”
Her brow rose.
“It frustrated me.  I resolved to be more vicious than I ever had been before.  I’d tear you apart before your charms could infect me.”
My word.
“You’re right.  We no longer need to deal with each other in our official capacities.  I would like the opportunity to show you I’m not as cruel as you perceived.”  His eyes grazed her face, not quite meeting her own.  “And also, an opportunity to make amends with you.”
Janel couldn’t find words for several moments.  She realized she was gaping at him like a dullard.  This was not a response befitting her.  She cleared her throat and attempted to regain some footing.
“So you’ve come to me out of guilt?”
Kordan drew an audible breath through his nostrils.  “Guilt.  And desire.”
Her eyes flashed wide once more.  She wrung her hands together.
“Not just for your body.”  He added the words speedily.  “I desire to have you as my wife.”
She turned to look straight ahead.  “I see.”
“Janel, I know you’ve no reason to grant me sympathy, but it humiliates to come to you this way.  I wanted to abandon the notion.  I couldn’t. This alliance has created a bridge for our people to intermarry.  My rank entitles me to a bride, and my masters said I may pursue bride candidates from Malakeeza.  I wrestled with the thought of pursuing anyone other than you.  Of course you despise me.  It’s what I deserve.  But I…I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”  She heard him swallow.  “You’re my equal, educated, cunning—vivacious, and yet gentle.  You even exceed me in some ways.  You never lost your temper.  You were always the embodiment of grace throughout the negotiations.”
“On the outside,” she said, while only turning her head toward him slightly. “I was a wreck just below the surface. I couldn’t let my anger erupt because you might have gotten fed up and walked away.  My people needed this alliance desperately.”
Kordan gave a grain of a laugh.  “As did mine.  I didn’t have the luxury of storming off.  This alliance was too important to the Haraden.”
Now she looked at him.  “It was?”
Kordan nodded.  “The looming wars three decades ago caused our gestation facilities to produce five hundred male Haraden to every one female.  We expected to lose so many soldiers to battle that the numbers would eventually even out.  And then the Confederation of Planets accepted the Haraden Empire as a member rather than succumb to a full-scale war.  We scarcely lost a soldier.  Now we don’t have enough females to maintain our population.  We’re short a billion brides.  Not even men of my rank can find a wife.”
Janel bashed her fist into the arm rest.  “Damn you!  Why did you fight me so hard?  Malakeeza was the perfect fit for your empire.  I kept saying this from the beginning and you kept acting as though you didn’t need us.  This could have been so simple.”
“There is no simple way to join the Haraden Empire.  We must always have the advantage, even in an alliance that benefits us.”
Janel rubbed her hand over her face.  “My God.”
“We’ve both been under tremendous stress during these negotiations,” Kordan said. “I’ve a mansion on Arkzin and a seven day break from my duties.  Come with me. .  This would be a time to rest, recover, and enjoy each other’s company. I believe we’re compatible, but perhaps we’re not.  If it ends after my break is over, then so be it.  I just can’t bear for it to end now.”
Janel brought her fist to her chin.  Was she actually considering this?
“No harm will come to you, Janel.  You know we are a people of honor.”
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