Interstellar Sparks
Page 6
Ilyna nearly cried at his kindness. “Oh, Myscha that’s perfect!”
Bryan laughed and slugged his brother in the shoulder. “Very deep for a sex peddler.”
Dane snorted. “And you sure get yourself in a shitload of trouble for an electrician.”
“Can we go home now?” Ilyna asked, tucking her arm around Bryan’s.
He nuzzled her hair, pressing a kiss to her scalp. “I can’t wait to be back in my own house again—I mean, our own house.”
“We can still visit Ris-K, though, right? Sometimes?”
His hand slid down to her ass, giving her a squeeze nobody else in the room could see. “On one condition—you marry me. I mean, the way we get married here on Earth.”
“In Las Vegas?” Ilyna threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips.
Bryan’s fingers plunged into her hair as he deepened the kiss. Their breath mingled and his tongue danced lightly over hers. Only when Dane cleared his throat, did he pull away, and Ilyna was tempted to wrap her body around his, audience be damned.
“I don’t care where we get married,” Bryan whispered. “Las Vegas, Paris, the outer Milky Way, anywhere. When they took you from me…I love you, Ilyna.”
“If I’m going to be an Earth wife, I need to start watching the cooking channel.”
Bryan groaned and rubbed his stomach. “I’m going to need bigger pants.”
About the Author
Shannon Stacey was a two-time Olympic gold medal winner, basking in the glory of cereal box appearances, before giving up the athletic world to pursue her love of music. Her command performance of “Mandy” reportedly brought the Queen to tears, but an unfortunate incident with a habanero pepper forced her to turn her attention to other pursuits. After swimming with sharks off the Great Barrier Reef and scaling Mt. Kilimanjaro, she once danced the night away in a little bar known as Rick’s Café Americain.
Okay, I got a little carried away there. All fiction. Although, I’m pretty sure the Queen would cry if she heard me sing Barry Manilow. But I just love to make stuff up. My ability to veer away from the truth, and my horror of anything mathematical, made it pretty clear from an early age that I would be either a writer or a really bad accountant with a lot of good excuses. It wasn’t clear until much later that my favorite stories would be about two people defying all odds to find their Happily Ever Afters.
I married my own Prince Charming in 1993, and we’re the proud parents of a future Nobel Prize for Science-winning bookworm and an adrenaline junkie with a flair for drama. We also have two cats who refuse to curl up on my lap and keep it warm while I write. Fortunately, writing steamy love stories helps heat up the cold New England winters. I'm excited and honored that Ellora’s Cave is bringing my stories to readers.
(That last paragraph—all true.)
Shannon welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Shannon Stacey
Twice Upon a Roadtrip
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