by Anna Zaires
“Well then,” Lahur said, his dark eyes trained on her, “I would like to tell you that we have granted your petition. Your family will be given all the rights and privileges of those we call charl.”
A shocked murmur ran through the crowd at his words, and Mia inhaled sharply, her eyes filling with tears of joy. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking at the dark visage of the ten-million-year-old alien in front of her. “Thank you so very much . . .”
“Yes,” Korum said, his arm tightening around Mia’s back. “Thank you for a wonderful wedding present. My wife and I are truly grateful.”
Lahur inclined his head, acknowledging their thanks. Then he turned around and walked away, the crowd parting again to let him through.
The music started up again, and the party resumed. Running up to Mia, Marisa gave her and Korum a hug, sobbing with happiness, and her parents embraced each other, tears running down their faces. Connor shook Korum’s hand, and Mia could see that her brother-in-law’s eyes were glistening too.
For the first time in history, an entire human family would be given immortality – a gift more precious than anything they could’ve ever imagined.
Looking up at her husband – her beautiful K lover – Mia smiled through her tears. “I love you,” she told him softly. “I love you so very much.”
“And I love you,” he said, watching her with warm amber-colored gaze.
Their happiness was complete.
Epilogue
Lahur stood in the forest clearing, feeling the warm breeze on his face. The others were gathered around him, their faces as familiar to him as his own. These people – the ones known as the Elders – were among the few whose company Lahur could tolerate for more than ten minutes at a time.
“So what now?” Sheura asked, watching him with her calm dark gaze.
Lahur looked at her. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s time,” she said quietly. “I think we have to do it.”
“I agree.” It was Pioren, Sheura’s partner in the experiment. “We can no longer stand by and observe. The project has succeeded all too well. They’re like us. Our best and brightest are now mating with them.”
“Yes,” Lahur said, “they are.” Seeing the curly-haired human girl by Korum’s side had been a revelation. She wasn’t the first human he’d met, but something about her had touched him, penetrating the layer of ice that encased him these days. For a moment, Lahur had been able to feel the powerful bond that existed between her and her cheren, to bask in the love they had for each other.
Out of all the young ones, Lahur found Korum to be among the most interesting, probably because he reminded Lahur of himself in his youth. Same drive, same willingness to do what’s necessary to achieve his goals. Lahur had no doubt that Korum would succeed in building a Krinar empire, taking them all on an unprecedented journey.
A journey that Korum planned to undertake with a human girl by his side.
There could be no clearer sign that they needed to wrap up the experiment.
“Let’s do it,” Lahur said. “You’re right. It’s time. We need to share our technology with them, to give them all what we gave only to a select few. Their evolution is complete.”
And as he looked around the clearing, seeing agreement on the other faces, Lahur had only one thought:
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Sneak Peeks
Thank you for reading Close Remembrance, the third book in the Krinar Chronicles series! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other people find this book by leaving a review or mentioning this series to a friend.
While Mia & Korum’s story is over (for now), there will be many more novels – and potentially other series – set in the Krinar world. I am also working on some non-Krinar books, including a contemporary romance and a dark erotica novel that might appeal to fans of Kitty Thomas and CJ Roberts. If you’d like to know when the next book comes out, you can sign up for my new release email list here. You can also connect with me on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and Goodreads.
Thank you for your support! I truly appreciate it.
And now, please turn the page for sneak peeks into my upcoming works . . .
Excerpt from Twist Me
Author’s Note: This is part of my Heed the Warning line of books that deal with topics some readers may find disturbing. Please heed the warning! It’s also a bit different from my other books in that it’s written in first person. The excerpt and the description are unedited and subject to change.
* * *
When eighteen-year-old Nora Leston catches Julian’s eye, her life changes in an instant. Kidnapped and taken to a remote island in the Pacific Ocean, she must satisfy the whims of her sadistic captor – a darkly enigmatic man who is as cruel as he is beautiful . . .
Warning: This book is dark erotica, not a romance. It contains a young and virginal heroine, disturbing scenes of dubious consent, captivity, power play, and graphic sexual content, including anal sex and mild BDSM. This is a work of fiction intended for a mature, 18+ audience only. The author neither endorses nor condones this type of behavior.
* * *
* * *
It’s evening now. With every minute that passes, I’m starting to get more and more anxious at the thought of seeing my captor again.
The novel that I’ve been reading can no longer hold my interest. I put it down and walk in circles around the room.
I am dressed in the clothes Beth had given me earlier. It’s not what I would’ve chosen to wear, but it’s better than a bathrobe. A sexy pair of white lacy panties and a matching bra for underwear. A pretty blue sundress that buttons in the front. Everything fits me suspiciously well. Has he been stalking me for a while? Learning everything about me, including my clothing size?
The thought makes me sick.
I am trying not to think about what’s to come, but it’s impossible. I don’t know why I’m so sure he’ll come to me tonight. It’s possible he has an entire harem of women stashed away on this island, and he visits each one only once a week, like sultans used to do.
Yet somehow I know he’ll be here soon. Last night had simply whetted his appetite. I know he’s not done with me, not by a long shot.
Finally, the door opens.
He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.
I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could’ve been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would’ve been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.
But he doesn’t. His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.
He’s again wearing jeans and a T-shirt. A grey one this time. He seems to favor simple clothing, and he’s smart to do so. His looks don’t need any enhancement.
He smiles at me. It’s his fallen angel smile – dark and seductive at the same time. “Hello, Nora.”
I don’t know what to say to him, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Here in the room? Or on the island?”
“Both.”
“Beth will show you around tomorrow, take you swimming, if you’d like,” he says, approaching me. “You won’t be locked in, unless you do something foolish.”
“Such as?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest as he stops next to me and lifts his hand to stroke my hair.
“Trying to harm Beth or yourself.” His voice is soft, his gaze hypnotic as he looks down on me. The way he’s touching my hair is oddly relaxing.
I blink, trying to break his spell. “And what about on the island? How long will you keep me here?”
His hand caresses my face now, curves around my cheek. I catch myself leaning into his touch, like a cat getting petted, and I immediately stiffen.
His lips curv
e into a knowing smile. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “A long time, I hope,” he says.
For some reason, I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t have bothered bringing me all the way here if he just wanted to fuck me a few times. I’m terrified, but I’m not surprised.
I gather my courage and ask the next logical question. “Why did you kidnap me?”
The smile leaves his face. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with an inscrutable blue gaze.
I begin to shake. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No, Nora, I won’t kill you.”
His denial reassures me, although he could obviously be lying. I feel a tiny bit calmer, but there is one more thing I have to know. “Are you going to hurt me?”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer again. Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes. “Probably,” he says quietly.
And then he leans down and kisses me, his warm lips soft and gentle on mine.
For a second, I stand there frozen, unresponsive. I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll hurt me. There’s something in him that scares me – that has scared me from the very beginning.
He’s nothing like the boys I’ve gone on dates with. He’s capable of anything.
And I’m completely at his mercy.
I think about trying to fight him again. That would be the normal thing to do in my situation. The brave thing to do.
And yet I don’t do it.
I can feel the darkness inside him. There’s something wrong with him. His outer beauty hides something monstrous underneath.
I don’t want to unleash that darkness. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
So I stand still in his embrace and let him kiss me. And when he picks me up again and takes me to bed, I don’t try to resist in any way.
Instead, I close my eyes and give in to the sensations.
* * *
If you’d like to know when Twist Me comes out, please visit my website at www.annazaires.com and sign up for my new release email list.
Excerpt from White Nights
Author’s Note: This is a contemporary erotic romance. The excerpt and the description are unedited and subject to change.
* * *
A Russian Oligarch
Alex Volkov always gets what he wants. Once an orphan on the streets of Saint Petersburg, he’s now one of the wealthiest men in the world. But one doesn’t rise that far in Russia without crossing the line . . .
An American Nurse
Kate Morrell has always been capable and independent. She neither wants nor needs a man in her life. Yet she can’t help being drawn to the dangerous stranger she meets in the hospital . . .
A Deadly Game
When Alex’s past threatens their present, Kate must decide how much she’s willing to risk to be with him . . . and whether the man she’s falling for is any different from the ruthless assassin hunting them down.
* * *
“Kate, I’m sorry, but we really need you right now.”
June Wallers, the nursing supervisor, burst into the tiny room where Katherine Morrell was quickly finishing her lunch.
Sighing, Kate put down her half-eaten sandwich, took a sip of water, and followed June down the hall. This was not the first time this week her allocated lunch hour had turned into a ten-minute snack break.
The recession had taken a heavy toll on New York hospitals, with budget cuts leading to hiring freezes and staff layoffs. As a result, the Emergency Room at Coney Island Hospital was at least three nurses short of what it needed to function properly. Other departments were also short-staffed, but their patient flow was somewhat more predictable. At the ER, however, it was almost always a madhouse.
This week had been particularly horrible. It was flu season, and one of the nurses had gotten sick. It was the absolute worst time for her to be out, as flu season also brought a greater-than-usual influx of patients. This was Kate’s fifth twelve-hour shift this week, and it was a night shift – something she hated to do, but couldn’t always avoid. But June had begged, and Kate had given in, knowing there was no one else who could replace her.
And here she was, skipping her lunch yet again. At this pace, she would be skin-and-bones before the flu season was over. The ‘flu diet,’ her mom liked to call it.
“What’s the emergency?” Kate asked, walking faster to keep up with June. At fifty-five years of age, the nurse supervisor was as spry as a twenty-year-old.
“We’ve got a gunshot wound.”
“How bad?”
“We’re not sure yet. Lettie’s kid got sick, and she just left –”
“What? So who’s with the patients?”
“Nancy.”
Shit. Kate almost broke into a run. Nancy was a first-year nurse. She was trying hard, but she needed a lot of guidance. She should never be on her own without a more experienced nurse present.
“Now you see why we need you,” June said wryly, and Kate nodded, her pulse speeding up.
This was why she’d gone into nursing – because she liked the idea of being needed, of helping people. A good nurse could make a difference between life and death for a patient, particularly in the ER. It was a heavy responsibility at times, but Kate didn’t mind. She liked the fast pace of work in the ER, the way twelve hours would just fly by. By the end of each day, she was so exhausted she could barely walk, but she was also satisfied.
The ER was teeming with activity when Kate entered. Approaching one of the curtained-off sections, Kate pulled back the drapes and saw the gunshot victim lying on the stretcher. He was a large man, tall and broad. Caucasian, from the looks of him. She guessed his age to be somewhere in the late twenties or early thirties. He had an oxygen mask on, and was already hooked up to the cardiac monitor. There was an IV drip in his arm, and he seemed to be unconscious.
Lettie, the first-year nurse, was applying pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. There were also two other men were standing nearby, but Kate paid them little attention, all her focus on the patient.
Quickly assessing the situation, Kate washed her hands and took charge. The patient’s pulse was strong, and he appeared to be breathing with no distress. Kate checked his pupils; they were normal and responded to light stimulation properly. There was an exit wound, which was lucky. Had the bullet remained inside the body, it could’ve caused additional damage and required surgery. A CT scan showed that the bullet had just missed the heart and other critical organs. Another inch, and the man would be occupying a body bag instead of this stretcher. As it was, the main challenge was getting the wound clean and stopping the bleeding.
Kate didn’t wonder how, why, or who had shot this man. That wasn’t her job. Her job was to save his life, to stabilize him until the doctor could get there. In cases like this – true life-threatening emergencies – the doctor would see the patient quickly. All other ER patients were typically in for a longer wait.
When Dr. Stevenson appeared, she filled him in, rattling off the patient’s vitals. Then she assisted him as he sutured and bandaged the wound.
Finally, the victim was stable and sedated. Barring any unforeseen complications, the man would live.
Stripping off the gloves, Kate walked over to the sink to wash her hands again. The habit was so deeply ingrained, she never had to think about it. Whenever she was in the hospital, she washed her hands compulsively every chance she got. Far too many deadly patient infections resulted from a healthcare professional’s lax approach to hygiene.
Letting the warm water run over her hands, she rolled her head side to side, trying to relieve the tension in her neck. As much as she loved her job, it was both physically and mentally exhausting, particularly when someone’s life was on the line. Kate had always thought full-body massages should be included as part of the benefit package for nurses. If anyone needed a rubdown at the end of a twelve-hour shift, it was surely a nurse.
Turning away from the sink, Kate looked back toward the gunshot ma
n, automatically making sure everything was okay with him before she moved on to check on her other patients.
And as she glanced in his direction, she caught a pair of steely blue eyes looking directly at her.
It was one of the other men who had been standing near the victim – likely one of the wounded’s relatives. Visitors were generally not allowed in the hospital at night, but the ER was an exception.
Instead of looking away – as most people would when caught staring – the man continued studying Kate.
So she studied him back, both intrigued and slightly annoyed.
He was tall, well over six feet in height, and broad-shouldered. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense; that would’ve been too weak of a word to describe him. Instead, he was . . . magnetic.
Power. That’s what she thought of when she looked at him. It was there in the arrogant tilt of his head, in the way he looked at her so calmly, utterly sure of himself and his ability to control all around him. Kate didn’t know who he was or what he did, but she doubted he was a pencil pusher in some office. No, this was a man used to issuing orders and having them obeyed.
His clothes fit him well and looked expensive. Maybe even custom-made. He was wearing a grey trench coat, dark grey pants with a subtle pinstripe, and a pair of black Italian leather shoes.
His brown hair was cut short, almost military style. The simple haircut suited his face, revealing hard, symmetric features. He had high cheekbones and a blade of a nose with a slight bump, as though it had been broken once.
Kate had no idea how old he was. His face was unlined, but there was no boyishness to it. No softness whatsoever, not even in the curve of his mouth. She guessed his age to be in the early thirties, but he could’ve just as easily been twenty-five or forty.