Bodies of Light' by Lisabet Sarai Love travels faster than light. Physicist Dr. Christine Monroe has devoted her lonely life to research on hyper-space travel.Her continued failure leads her to sign on to the Archimedes, a sub-light-speed mission aimed at establishing a colony in the Sirius B system. Waking from suspended animation, she discovers that the ship is wildly off course and the rest of the crew are dead due to equipment failure.At first she thinks the two handsome strangers who show up on the ship are ...
Bodies of Light' by Lisabet Sarai Love travels faster than light. Physicist Dr. Christine Monroe has devoted her lonely life to research on hyper-space travel.Her continued failure leads her to sign on to the Archimedes, a sub-light-speed mission aimed at establishing a colony in the Sirius B system. Waking from suspended animation, she discovers that the ship is wildly off course and the rest of the crew are dead due to equipment failure.At first she thinks the two handsome strangers who show up on the ship are figments of her imagination - erotic hallucinations created by isolation and stress. However, Alyn and Zed are solid, real, and ready to sacrifice their lives for the strong woman they’ve found stranded in deep space.As her ship begins to disintegrate, Christine must choose between the planet she was sent to save and the two alien beings she’s come to cherish.Reader Advisory: This book contains ménage and anal sex. 'The Sevarian Way' by Justine Elyot In space, no-one can hear you scream. So you can spank as hard as you like. Commander Azed Paul and Ensign Suka Demontel are space anthropologists in a future civilisation where kink is illegal. Both have learned to repress their natural sexuality, but Suka's undergraduate work on the ancient practice of BDSM has captured Paul's professional attention, and his less academic interest too.This makes her the perfect crew member to accompany him to the surface of Paladium Three, a dead planet where old-fashioned service and discipline were woven into the fabric of life.There might not be any life forms left there, but what Paul and Suka discover is fascinating evidence of a culture that both realise might have suited them very well...The temptation to experiment, risk-free, with the kinks they have been denied all their adult lives, proves too much for the space explorers and they give their fantasies free rein. But will this be a unique, never-to-be-repeated experience, or will Paul and Suka find a means to fully embrace the Sevarian Way? Reader Advisory: This book contains BDSM 'Europa Europa' by KS Augustin The Company appreciates its genetically modified humans...as long as they don't get any smart ideas. Salvia is a genetically modified human, at home in the oceans of Jupiter's moon, Europa. Intelligent, young, lonely, she demands that the mysterious "company" that employs her send a companion or she'll never work for them again. With no choice, the company creates Rhus, a young brash male. But a relationship that begins with mistrust ends up forging deep links between the pair and they look forward to a happy life together.Unfortunately, Salvia's tactic of holding the company to ransom was not well received. While they may have introduced Rhus to Europa, the company are mulling over other options. Options that include the very real possibility of death for Salvia. Or Rhus. Or both. Reader Advisory: This book is best read in a hot-tub! Preferably, with some company.
Star Struck' by Buffi BeCraft Smart girls know two things. Don't pick up hitch-hikers and avoid dangerous men. Down-on-her-luck trader captain, Drew Roberts’ fascination for dangerous men is equal to her need for a crew. When the sexy alien kith pair, Ashwin and Kormec wanders onto her ship with the offer of passage for repairs, she knows trouble is not far behind. But a girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do—And getting back at her rival, the kith Captain Larissa by taking these two on, seems like a pretty good idea at the time.On the run, Ashwin and Kormec, know that the best way to avoid a political marriage is one of another kind. Is Drew Roberts ‘the one’ for them? Can she survive an encounter with Ashwin’s mother, the fierce Captain Larissa? The three of them may generate enough heat to power a sun, but question is, will they survive it?Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of M/F/M intimacy, M/M play, and ménage sex. 'To Bed A Goddess' by Lizzie Lynn Lee Sometimes, a Goddess is more human than a human is… Chosen by Gods and cursed by fate, Amaranth, the sacred virgin of the Sun Temple, is destined to consort the ruthless warlord Shanrakhan, as his war prize. But before Shanrakhan could take her virginity, his enemies kidnap Amaranth and pierce her heart with the Star of Hecave, an ancient amulet that freezes her in a dreamless slumber for thousands of years…Graeme Darin, an ex-admiral of Imperial Arcova Fleet is on the run when he realises the ship he and his crew stole carries a secret archaeological relic—a tomb of a fabled goddess. Out of curiosity, Graeme removes the amulet. To his surprise, the cold body of the goddess springs back to life.With the Imperial Armada on their tail, Graeme faces problematic dilemmas between keeping his crew safe and his growing attraction to Amaranth. But can a mortal man resist a Goddess’ seduction? 'Captain Kate' by Sophie Angmering Captain Kate Thorn makes a habit of bending the rules to suit her purposes, but then she meets two men who simply break them to get what they want. Captain Katherine Thorn has one of the toughest reputations in the Galaxy Elite Fleet. Her problems start when she mistakes two powerful diplomats for Rim pirates, and attempts to ensure their silence regarding their rescue by using sexual blackmail.But Kate has never come across anyone like these two men before, two men who are prepared to use every method at their disposal to ensure payback, and they want to get her back in their power and in their bed.Reader Advisory: This book contains ménage sex.
I’m British and live by the sea just outside Brighton in West Sussex. I’ve been lucky enough to have a huge range of occupations ranging from being a top European IT consultant through to mother of three. My jobs in the past have invariably involved a lot of travel and thinking up long involved plots, along with feisty heroines and controlling heroes, has always been a favourite way of mine to make time pass when I have been sitting at the wheel of a car or on a train.I’ve a soft spot for happy endings, with characters who get what they deserve and with lots of sauciness on the way.Hopefully you’ll enjoy the same things I do.
I am a child of the global South. In the past, I have run my own IT consultancy business, bookshop, gym, swimming pool business and martial arts school.So far in my life, I have been a corporate trainer, lecturer, satirist, martial arts instructor, project manager, political essayist, small business owner and am now proud to call myself a fiction writer. Although I love romance, I have to admit my first love is science-fiction and the opportunity to combine both genres was irresistible! I do hope you enjoy reading my stories.Together with my husband, we have lived and worked in Europe, Asia, Australia and North America. We adore our two children and tolerate as necessary evils our two grumpy, fur-shedding cats.
Buffi BeCraft-Woodall writes Romantic Paranormal fantasy with a heavy dose of East Texas thrown in. Her first book was the result of a challenge. At the time Buffi was casting around, trying to come up with an idea for a book that was both marketable and fun to write. When her mother insisted that no one could write a paranormal she would be able to understand, the war was on. She wanted create a book that was easy for those uninitiated to the whole paranormal/fantasy genre to both understand and enjoy. Buffi is happy to say that her mother is now waiting anxiously for the next release.
Justine Elyot is a UK based writer of erotic romance and erotica. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies from Black Lace, Cleis Press, Xcite and Constable & Robinson. Her first full-length book, On Demand, was published by Black Lace in 2009.
I write. I doodle. I play guitar. Not necessarily in that order. I'm an incurable chatterbox, heavy metal aficionado, bookworm and a night owl, since most of my stories are done in the weehours of the morning because of my caffeine-induced insomnia. I'm a big South Park fan, and I'm fluent in Cartman speak and I'm working on mastering my Kennynese. Cookies and donuts are my main diet and I currently owe a fortune to the swear jar.
I became addicted to words at an early age. I began reading when I was four. I wrote my first story at five years old and my first poem at seven. Since then, I've written plays, tutorials, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and of course, erotica. I'm the author of four erotic novels and two short story collections. I also edited the ground breaking anthology SACRED EXCHANGE, which explores the spiritual aspects of BDSM relationships, and the massive collection CREAM: THE BEST OF THE EROTIC READERS AND WRITERS ASSOCIATION. My short stories have appeared in more than two dozen print collections edited by erotica luminaries such as M. Christian, Maxim Jakubowski, Mitzi Szereto, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Alison Tyler. In my so-called spare time, I also review books and films for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association (erotica-readers.com) and Erotica Revealed (eroticarevealed.com), and feature as a Celebrity Author at Custom Erotica Source(customeroticasource.com) My lifelong interests in sex and the written word became serenditipitously entwined about a decade ago when I read my first Black Lace book by Portia da Costa. Her work inspired me to take my fantasies out of the closet (and the private email files) and expose them to the world. The rest, as they say, is history (although granted, no more than a minor footnote!)I've always loved traveling; my husband seduced me in a Burmese restaurant by telling me tales of his foreign adventures. Since then I have visited every continent except Australia, although I still have a long travel wish list. Currently I live with him and our two exceptional felines in Southeast Asia, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.
Bodies of Light by Lisabet Sarai She had failed. Suspension was supposed to be dreamless. Still, frustration and disappointment swirled through her consciousness. Pain nagged her, the ache of goals missed, work left undone. What work? She could not recall. She knew only that it had been critically important. Layers of confusion swaddled her mind like heavy blankets, smothering any attempt at logic. The incoherence of her thoughts disturbed her further. Images, words and symbols crept into focus then faded before she could decipher their meanings. The need to understand was an itch she could not scratch. She hung in a dark, foggy void, disembodied and disoriented. Only her emotions had any clarity. She could not banish the certainty that she had been tested and found wanting. Then came the light. In the void there was no time. Without transition, light arced through her, golden arrows that pierced and scattered her despair. She had no eyes but somehow she was drenched in rainbow-edged glory. Shimmering waves of aquamarine and cerise danced before her—through her—banishing her darkness. She heard the light as well as saw it, a strange melody that pulsed in rhythm with the glow, tugging at her heart. Irrational joy flooded her. “Christine.” The voice wound in and out among the chords. It caressed her being, promising comfort and release from care. “Christine.” A second voice (yet how could she know this, without ears to hear?) whispered in the brief pauses between notes, deeper, darker, a gorgeous contrast with the flaring colours that bathed her thoughts. The new voice spoke of pleasure, of desire and exquisite satisfaction. “You are not alone,” the first voice murmured. “We are with you,” the second announced, bold and bright as a trumpet call. At the same time, sensation rippled through her. Invisible hands cupped and massaged her breasts (but she had no body, no breasts…) until sparks flew from the nipples to merge with the spiralling brightness. Fingertips trailed along her non-existent skin, triggering pleasure so intense it frightened her. The silver voice—as she pictured the first—soothed her without words. The bronze voice laughed like ringing bells and coaxed ever more unbearable delight from her insubstantial body. Her soundless moans rose to join the prismatic symphony in which she floated. The twin voices teased and enticed her, urging her to let go. “We will support you,” they crooned as pleasure suffused her. She stopped trying to understand how she could experience such arousal when she had no limbs, no sex. She was the pleasure, a multi-hued whirl of harmonious vibration in crescendo. Silver-voice sang her to the top. Bronze-voice held her there, his power shuddering through her, driving out the fear. “Now fly,” said the darker voice and released her. The Sevarian Way by Justine Elyot It wasn’t the danger Suka had a problem with, nor was it the workload. She was easily bright enough to handle the multiple data streams that poured into her Communicatex every parsec of every timeslice. In fact, she had graduated at the top of her class in the Academy, which had greatly contributed towards her selection for the crew of the Ulysses IV. No, what Suka struggled with was the rules. Endless, relentless regulations to follow and obey, seemingly pointless, in many cases. There were rules about bedtimes, rules about how much to eat, rules about uniform, rules about socialising, rules about how to address officers of various ranks within the starship. Suka had always been one for following the spirit, rather than the letter, of the law, and this tendency was making the voyage one of low-level misery rather than exciting discovery for her. Even more galling than the rules themselves was their enforcement by one Commander Azed Paul, a man with whom the toss was impossible to argue. Commander Paul was accustomed, over several turbulent years in the outer rim of the Spaelian Galaxies, to running the tightest of ships. One speck of lint on an officer’s skintight dermolex trousers would be noted and remarked upon. He had found and destroyed Suka’s box of contraband sugarfizz within one hour of her embarkation. His motto was ‘discipline or doom’. Suka was inclined to favour doom just now. She crouched low over her monitor, hoping that her apparent commitment to it would make her invisible to Commander Paul. Her hair, tightly braided now after an earlier contretemps over ‘professionally appropriate styles’, pulled at the skin above her ears and temples every time she hunched a little further down. She knew he was going to mention her confiscated glowstick at some point, but she really didn’t see what was so wrong with a bit of reading in bed. Was she supposed to abandon all her extraneous interests in life, sacrifices to the efficient running of the ship? It was too big a thing to expect of a twenty-two-year-old woman. Paul was busy, bent over the shoulder of another ensign, her friend Callil, checking that every machine powering this heap of junk was correctly calibrated. From across the bridge, his backside in the figure-hugging uniform pants drew her eye in an irritatingly irresistible fashion. Whatever else she might think of him, she couldn’t deny he had one of the finest arses in the Quadrant. Suddenly, he straightened up and spun on his boot heel, catching her in her mildly lustful musings. Suka’s head dropped so swiftly she almost banged her forehead on the screen, but it was too late. His keen blue-glass eyes had registered her interest, and he smiled his broad, sharky grin before addressing her. “Ensign Demontel, we need to discuss your reading habits,” he proclaimed, crossing past the banks of flashing hardware towards her station. Immediately, she raised her chin in stubborn challenge, preparing to defend her position. Europa, Europa by KS Augustin The signal to return to the station manifested as a sharp pain in Salvia’s upper arm. She flinched and a soft eddy hit her in the back, propelling her forward. It had been several Earth-months since she’d last received a signal and she was surprised to get it. Hadn’t they forgotten her yet? Duty warred with rebellion before finally winning. Taking a deep breath, Salvia swam to the station, knowing it would take her the best part of a day to reach it. She wasn’t worried about feeling another painful jab. The tracking device located somewhere on her body should have relayed her position and direction of travel. And she was doing what they wanted, after all. Her route would take her past the Bayless Plume, which was good. She needed to remind herself that she had achieved great things in the past year and a half. Things that nobody else from the station could have achieved. Things that had increased the profits and prestige of the company she worked for. She kept those thoughts in mind as she swam, effortlessly cutting through the dark water that was her home. The station shone like a brilliant jewel set into the ice crust. Salvia blinked down her inner eyelid against the glare of light and grimaced. Sometimes she couldn’t believe she was related to the station’s inhabitants. They had no inner membrane to block the bright stabs of illumination that constantly surrounded them. How could anybody see anything clearly under such bleaching? It beggared belief. She swam up the high tube situated off-centre at the bottom of the station. Even though she was used to the dark, the inside of the tube always appeared to her to be menacing and claustrophobic. Flicking her legs, she headed up almost to the top. Curved rectangles of light patterned her body as she swept past windows peering out into the funnel, but nobody was watching her. It would have been rare if there had been. Doctor Faisbain was waiting for her in the Interaction Room. Salvia would have laughed at the title if she didn’t already know there were cameras everywhere, watching each move she made. Interaction Room? More like Getting Orders Room. Out in the ocean, she was free. Here in the station, she felt pinned down and shackled. As if responding to her thoughts, a clear panel below her feet slid shut, trapping her in a cylinder of water. Salvia watched her exit from the station narrow and disappear before looking up again. “Hello, Dr Faisbain,” she sub-vocalised. She wasn’t sure how it worked, but that little bit of sound seemed to be enough to communicate with the humans on the other side of the thick transparent panel. “Hello, Salvia.” The doctor was an older woman with grey streaks in her hair. Whenever she smiled, the wrinkles on her face grew deeper. She had always been nice to Salvia but Salvia knew the woman was constrained by the company. If Dr Faisbain was ordered to imprison Salvia indefinitely within the station, there was no doubt she would do it. “You’re looking well,” the doctor continued. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Five months, I believe.” Star Struck by Buffi BeCraft Captain Drew Roberts rummaged through the crate of spare parts, her mood going from sour to downright bitchy. The warm exhaust-heavy air, the norm for any port and a must for a space station, wafted in through the aft engine room doors. Air quality on Celestial VIII was better than most. She hefted the wrench, a nice old-fashioned, earther tool that should get the job done. Switching on the power, Drew hit the start-up sequence from the maintenance panel, listening for the catch and stutter that was keeping her grounded and eating at her profits. Watching the entwined barrels of the massive engine hum, she held her breath as the hiccup began in the first, sending a shudder through the ship. She hit the kill switch before the jerking stutter pulled the engine from its moorings. Or before anything else made strange noises. She crouched in front of the first engine barrel and stared into the open panel at the jungle of wiring and computer boards and sensor knobs. “Okay, Mara,” Drew whispered to her dead business partner and mechanic. She’d been speaking Galaxy I Common for so long, she rarely even thought in her own language anymore. “What would you do?” She closed her eyes, hoping to channel just a little bit of her friend’s genius. When nothing occurred immediately, she reached one hand in, hoping for a little luck in the place of her lacking skill. The first hiccup was on this side. Surely, she could see a burned out thingamajig or something. Aha! A blackened knob was tucked up next to the optic wiring going to the next barrel. Drew was pretty sure she’d seen one of those in the crate. “I got you now, you little bastard.” She reached down for the wrench. “You do not want to use that on a crystal hybrid engine.” The smooth voice jerked Drew around, swinging the huge-ass wrench in front of her as she rolled to the balls of her feet. Quickly, she assessed the intruder—smarter than his pretty looks if he could identify a hybrid engine. Human descent, male, pale skin, medium build, loose travelling clothes. With his colouring, chestnut and gold topknot, tilted eyes and full upper lip, she connected the dots and lowered the wrench a fraction. Long dormant hormones blinked to wakefulness. Yeah, he was hot, but she wasn’t buying anything a trader offered. “Sorry, I’m not taking on passengers.” She used the end of the wrench to point at the engine. It pained her, but she admitted her failure anyway. “Engine trouble.” Mara would have had the stupid thing running in seconds. He nodded, approaching carefully, bringing with him the scent of wild primitive forests, a real scent, not a fabricated cologne. “I heard.” Mischief glittered in the shadows of his grey eyes. The tip of one long canine peeked when he smiled. To some that would be a turnoff. Mara always teased Drew about her fascination with dangerous men. In the end, Mara beat her hands down in worst boyfriend material. The moral? Never date cold-blooded men. “Most of the port heard.” He pointed at the open panel. “May I?” To Bed a Goddess by Lizzie Lynn Lee “Sir, we have a problem.” Graeme Darin caught himself from correcting his former aide. There was no reason for Keiran to keep addressing him as sir. After all, he’d been stripped from his ranks and his honour. Up to seventy hours ago, he was a Rear Admiral in the Arcova Imperial Fleet with a bright future ahead of him. Now, he was a fugitive, running from the wrath of Queen Breanna. Perhaps old habits were hard to break, and Keiran Mohr was one of those people with a deep loyalty streak. “What kind of problem?” Graeme asked. “The cargo, sir. It has the Imperial’s seals.” “What cargo?” Nate, Graeme’s brother, interjected from the captain’s chair. He was piloting their stolen ship and had been setting their course to Sierra-Allyx when Keiran came into the bridge, reporting his findings. Nate looked perturbed. “This ship is scheduled to be decommissioned next month. We aren’t supposed to be carrying any cargo.” “Well, we are.” Keiran turned to Graeme. “The container is almost big enough to fill the whole dock. What are we going to do about it, sir?” Nate wasn’t convinced. “You’re shitting me, right?” “I’m most certainly not,” Keiran bit back. “Do I look like I’m shitting you?” Irritation painted his face. Graeme didn’t know how the two could conspire together. He hadn’t seen Nate in years. His brother had been practically a kid when Graeme left their homeland and joined the Imperial Fleet as a freshly minted lieutenant from the academy. “Nate is all right,” his mother had said to him once. “He takes after your father’s good looks, and he adores you.” About three hours ago, Graeme had been surprised when a young Imperial Officer who visited his cell turned out to be Nate. His mother was right. Nate has become the spitting image of their late father when he was young. He had grown into a slender, comely, sophisticated young man whose elegant demeanour could only come from years of refinement in the Royal Academy. But it all was a con. His mother had told him Nate was a rebellious youth. When his brother turned nineteen, Graeme heard that Nate had joined an ill-reputed trader and become a smuggler. Graeme didn’t expect the news of his imprisonment to reach Nate, but it had. And it compelled Nate to impersonate an Imperial Officer in order to bust him out of prison. If Graeme was given a choice, he would have preferred to stay in his cell and face his trial like an honourable admiral of the Fleet should do. After all, he was innocent. The malicious persecution against him was nothing but the Second Queen Breanna’s tactic to bring him off to his heels. That wretched bitch had lusted over him from the moment Graeme was sworn in as the youngest admiral of the Fleet. When Graeme didn’t return her seductions, Queen Breanna threw him in jail for contempt. Graeme was sure the judge would clear his name. The evidence of contempt was laughably weak. When Graeme tried to convince Nate to leave, a prison guard spotted his brother’s fake credentials. Nate clonked the guard unconscious and everything went downhill from there. Graeme had no choice but to bust out of the prison with Nate. Captain Kate by Sophie Angmering “Dump the lot.” Dominic Danyeo braced himself against another barrage of fire from the Galaxy Elite Fleet ship. Whump. Whump. Whump. A volley of shots broadsided them as they sat virtually immobile, trapped against the side of a small moon. “All of it?” Rennick Stannick was always remarkably calm under pressure. “No politically sensitive data is to get into fleet hands.” Danyeo rubbed his face, clearly exhausted from seventy-two hours of fighting, “The government of Prime 7 will have to wait. Delete all of it.” Whump. Whump. “I always said this was going to be a risky trip.” “Your comment is noted. Update on the servers?” “Wiped.” Rennick grabbed for the edge of the flight desk as another barrage of fire hit. “Good. Smarten up, Stannick, time to abandon ship. Make sure the collective know we need picking up. I don’t want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary in the company of the GEF and remember this was supposed to be a covert operation.” * * * * “The ship is secured, Captain. Commander Lomax is escorting all personnel on board.” Kate Thorn gave the briefest nod in acknowledgement. “Clarke, take the bridge. Start accessing their ship’s logs and data using the standard protocols.” Kate could not help the slight smile of triumph as she surveyed the crippled Rim Class ship from the controls of her craft. They had been fighting for almost three days straight, and when all had seemed lost, she had made a last audacious bid to outmanoeuvre her opponents. Her daring attack had trapped the privateers within the orbit of a remote rock mass. The crew had surrendered without a fight, their ship a mess. “Captain Thorn…I would have a word with you in private.” Lieutenant Clarke appeared at her elbow before even a minute of her victory had passed. Her third in command was ambitious and lacked Kate’s family connections. It made him an unreliable and resentful subordinate that was better handled promptly and publicly. “Problem, Clarke?” Kate replied curtly. As one of the youngest, toughest Captains of the Inner Galaxies Elite Fleet, she stuck doggedly to a code of cool professionalism. She kept her distance and maintained an expectation of unquestioning respect from her crew. “You should not have engaged the Rim pirate ship. It would have been enough to have driven them out of the border zone, away from GEF space.” “Are you questioning my judgement, Lieutenant Clarke?” Again, rang through Kate’s head but thankfully never made it to her lips. Clarke was becoming more than just annoying. He was becoming a liability. “The rules are quite clear. We are not to waste time on Rim dogs and pirates,” Clarke insisted. “The GEF directives in this situation clearly state that firepower is to be saved for direct engagement with Rim insurgents.” Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clarke lived by the damned rulebook. “This particular craft was well inside the boundaries of the ISS Star’s jurisdiction.” But it had been quick enough to dodge out of their legal engagement area when it had become obvious that Kate’s ship was prepared to attempt to capture a privateer ship. “They were blatantly entering GEF protected territories. You do not have to explain Galaxy Elite Fleet rules to me, Clarke, I was brought up on them,” Kate replied, ruthlessly using an oblique reference to her influential family to silence him. “I am going down to inspect our prisoners. Keep your full attention on the salvage dogs that have been circling since our engagement with the privateer vessel. The rulebook is quite clear about the responsibilities of being on watch.”