by Alana Khan
I memorize every word of the lilting lyrics. I’ll sing it to her in private some time—I love that the title has her name in it.
I let the sound of singing fade into the background as I focus on the beautiful female in my arms. She’s got a dreamy smile on her face as she cuddles even closer to me.
“You haven’t stopped purring all day,” she whispers into my ear.
Really? I hadn’t noticed. She’s right. This is my body’s response to happiness.
“And you, my love?” I ask. “That wide smile hasn’t left your face except when we were in Ergonn’s warehouse.”
“This is my body’s response to happiness.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Star
“Star, I have an admission to make,” Brianna catches me in the hallway. “Your bolliberries are all that and a bag of chips. They taste so amazing that maybe . . . I snuck into your hydroponics room once or twice to steal some.”
“Thanks. They’re amazing, aren’t they? You better not tell Maddie, though. She told me she’s planning on using them for pies.”
“Pies?” Brianna’s face lights up. “I promise I’ll quit filching them if that means more homemade bolliberry pie.”
I quicken my steps toward the ludus. One of my favorite things is watching Ar’Tok spar with his friends. I don’t want to miss it.
“Star?” Anya calls as she runs to catch up with me. “I was trying to create a way for Zar to have more communication with the bridge from our cabin. I think I totally messed it up. Can you help me before you go over to the Devil’s Playground?”
“Absolutely. I’ll catch you after dinner,” I say as I scurry forward.
It’s been a wicked, off the chain six months since we visited the Pleasure Planet. Ar’Tok and I just keep getting better and better. Sometimes I still want to pinch myself to believe that so many wonderful things have happened to me in such a short amount of time.
Shortly after we left Paragon, we returned to the Misfit. I grabbed a picture my mom painted for me before I was born. It’s of Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. She had memorized the old Earth poem and recited it to me my whole childhood. It has a place of honor on my dresser. Every time I look at it I think of her and smile.
I wasn’t certain what to take from the ship where I spent my whole life until Ar’Tok rescued me. I didn’t need anything; I just wanted a few mementos to remember my parents by.
I decided what I wanted to help me remember my dad was a math paper I found in a stack of things in my parents’ room. I was young, but my dad had me doing advanced mathematics and calculus from an early age. The paper I took was from when I was so young my 4’s were written backward, but I got all the questions right.
Mom wanted me to learn English, and so my dad’s remarks at the top of the page were as messy and scrawled as mine were, since he was learning English, too. It said, “A+ my darling dawter, you shine like the North Star.”
Dax is great at woodworking, and he helped me make a beautifully carved crima wood frame for it. It sits next to my mom’s painting on my dresser.
I still miss my folks, but the pain isn’t sharp anymore. I have so many friends that have helped fill my empty spaces. And Ar’Tok, of course.
I also grabbed every seed on the Misfit before I bid it goodbye. Because of the viable seeds I salvaged, I’ve created two hydroponics rooms. One on the Fool’s Errand, the other on the Devil’s Playground. Now everyone has access to fresh fruits and veggies year-round on both vessels.
Ar’Tok and I are one of the only couples who have a cabin on both ships. Both vessels fly together on a lot of our missions, but sometimes the ships separate. I go back and forth between the ships to make sure the hydroponics rooms are functioning at their highest capacity.
Today we’re on the Fool, and Ar’Tok is sparring with two of his best friends—Zar and Dax. I press the door plate and try to enter on silent feet. I love watching my mate when he doesn’t know I’m here—I tend to distract him.
As usual, the males are sparring naked. My mom had a saying that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I guess that fits. The females warned me ages ago that wearing clothes is one rule of etiquette that will never be followed on a ship full of gladiators.
I’ve never seen this before. Ar’Tok is fighting two males, both Dax and Zar. These guys aren’t playing, as evidenced by the sound of metal striking metal and their grunts as they exert themselves.
At first, Ar’Tok learned the basics swiftly. Dax and Zar both caught me privately to brag about how Ar’Tok picked things up faster than they’d ever seen. But when they got to sparring, he struggled.
Then we realized that although it appeared Ar’Tok could see perfectly out of his damaged eye, he only saw the vaguest shapes and colors.
As soon as the problem was diagnosed, Dr. Drayke performed a series of revisions on his eye. The doc assures us Ar’Tok’s vision is perfect now, though none of us needed his seal of approval after seeing how his sparring improved immediately.
Look at my male now. I lean back against the far wall, trying not to catch his attention, and watch. He’s swift and sure and parries thrusts from his two opponents.
“Good one,” Zar says in his feline growl.
“You get better every day,” Dax praises as he pivots out of Ar’Tok’s striking range.
Ar’Tok has worked up a sweat, his muscles straining under his glistening skin. I can’t hide my smile, knowing that after his workout is over he’ll walk with me to our cabin.
Then my fingers, which are now itching to trace those corded muscles, will be rewarded under the pelting water of our shower.
“Time,” Shadow calls from where he’s bench-pressing a prodigious amount of weight. “Your female’s here.”
I quit slouching against the wall and hurry over to my male, a huge smile stretching across my face.
“I don’t know much about your sparring getting better every day, although Dax must be right. I’ll tell you one thing, though, you get more handsome every day.” I say as I rise on my toes to kiss that sexy mouth.
Ar’Tok
I stow my gladius sword in the weapons room, realizing that six lunars ago I wouldn’t have known a gladius from a spatha. I’ve grown in many ways since the day I was released from prison.
I can fight now. Dax was right when he called me a warrior. I couldn’t appreciate it then. I certainly can now. I lived through hell and came out the other side. He was also correct when he said I’d learn what it’s like to walk in the world without fear. It’s a glorious feeling. Freeing.
And here on the other side of hell, I have so much to be thankful for. Grabbing Star’s hand, I pull her against me and kiss her a hundred times all over her face.
It’s our little game. She pretends I don’t see her when she sneaks in to watch me spar, and I pretend I don’t smell her blooming arousal. One of the gladiators will call time, and she’ll hurry to my side, then I’ll kiss her in front of them all, usually accompanied by a few good-natured catcalls.
Then Star will pull away, mock-offended by how I smell, her nose wrinkled in disgust. That’s my cue to pull her even closer and kiss her more boldly. It’s my cirr’s cue to get into the act and hold onto her so she can’t wiggle away.
At this point in our little act, her giggles are so loud they almost drown out my affectionate purr as we leave the ludus and hurry down the hallway to our room under the pretense of taking a shower.
Our showers are never just an exercise in hygiene. They always end in bed.
“Let’s skip the shower today,” I say as we race toward our cabin. Three people we pass laugh as we run by. Everyone on board knows where we’re rushing and precisely why. No one cares, they’re all just happy we found each other.
“No way. You stink,” she says as she pulls harder toward our personal finish line.
Once we’re in our room, though, I veer from our script by putting my back against the door and pulling he
r into my embrace.
“I can’t wait another modicum to tell you how much I love you. I’ll burst if I don’t say it right this minima,” I tell her, gazing into her golden-brown eyes.
“Is it one of those days for you, too, my Ar’Tok? I ran to the ludus so I wouldn’t have to wait so long to tell you that part of me was born the day I met you. I’m so lucky to have you. It may be my name, but Ar’Tok, you are my North Star. I’ll follow you anywhere, my love.”
“Love can be born in the strangest of places, love. I found you in the far reaches of space. It doesn’t matter now, though. What matters is that we have each other.”
The End
Dear Reader,
Gee, I sure hope you liked Ar’Tok and Star’s story. When I sit down to write I have many goals, the biggest ones are to make you laugh (at least a little), make you cry (at least once in every story), to make you horny (I hope I succeeded) and to give you a fabulous happily ever after.
I hope I did my job on all those points in this book. I have to admit even as I re-read this book for the last time, the scene with Shamdah got to me again and made me cry. Isn’t that why we read romances? To remind us of our human emotions? Well, yeah, and to get our juices flowing *wink*.
If you enjoyed the book, please take two minutes to write a little review. Your reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, and Bookbub are super helpful to indie authors like myself.
Want a free novella? Follow this link to sign up for my free newsletter and receive Shadow’s sexy backstory—Terminus. You’ll then get updates on what’s going on in the Alanaverse, cover reveals, first looks at new books, free contests, and more.
I’m more than half done writing Wrage, Book 11 in this series and have enclosed the first chapter below. As soon as the cover is done, I’ll upload it to Amazon, so keep an eye out for it. Wrage was one of the male gladiators rescued from planet Trent. I’m sure you noticed that he didn’t return to the Devil’s Playground with his comrades. What has become of him? His story is set on Fornication Island (c’mon, you have to admit your interest was piqued when you read about it). It runs on the same timeline as Ar’Tok’s story.
Don’t hate me (or Wrage) when you read Chapter One, he starts out as an asshole, I don’t deny it. But he becomes a loving marshmallow and you will absolutely wish he was your boyfriend by 25% in. And the way he scents his ladylove will have you swooning. Scroll down for his Sneak Peek.
Below that is a Who’s Who with pictures.
Thanks so much for reading my books. I love my job and my readers.
Alana Khan
Glossary
All that and a bag of chips—means that a person is all that and more. Came into use in the mid-1990s
Bitchin’—good, great, awesome. Came into use in the 1960s
Bodacious—impressive, awesome, brave in action, remarkable, prodigious. Came into use in 1892
Bogart—To keep something all for oneself, thus depriving anyone else of having any. Came into use in 1965
Chillax—A mixture between the terms “chillout” and “relax”. Came into use in 2001.
Cool Beans—Used to describe something very favorable or pleasing. Great. Very nice. Came into use in the late ’60s/early ’70s
Fierto—foot
Get Jiggy—where an unhip or older person wants to sound hip or cool. Came into use in the late 1990s
Go Postal—To lash out violently and at random, often in a blind rage. Came into use in 1986.
Hella—it is commonly used in place of "really" or "very" when describing something. Came into use in 1987.
Ince—inch
Ludus—gladiator training area, gymnasium
Main Squeeze—the person you'll always have strong, intimate feelings for. No matter what. Came into use in 1970.
Minima—minute
Modicum—second
Off the chain—Out of control, wild fun. Came into use in the 1990s.
Posse—your crew, your homies, a group of friends, people who have your back. Came into use in the mid-1600s. I’m not sure when it came into use like this.
Punking—playing a practical joke on someone. Came into use in the early 1970s.
The bomb or da bomb—A phrase that is used to show something is really cool or awesome. Came into use in the 1940s.
Wayy—very much.
Whack—something in bad taste or is otherwise unappealing, bad, unfashionable, stupid or of low quality. Came into use in the 1990s
Wicked—Cool. Came into use in 1961.
Sneak Peek of Wrage, Book 11 in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series
Chapter One
Wrage
“Why would they hire her? She’s ugly and has no talent?” I ask, not trying to keep my voice down even though we’re only a few fiertos from the stage.
“She’s got a nice voice,” Justus says as he pours himself another glass of the local fermented havaché the waitress just set on our table.
“You only say that because you’ve been a slave all your life, what would you know of talent?” I goad. “I wasn’t enslaved until I was fifteen. I know how a good vocalist should sound.”
“You’re just angry, Wrage. Everyone at this table knows you fell hard for the female who tricked you out of the credits you were saving to buy your freedom. She looked a lot like the singer you’re insulting. Don’t hold it against her. Her voice is pretty.”
“Pretty as my ass.” I refill my glass and inspect the performer more closely. Justus is right, she reminds me of Sibyl, the bitch my owner sent to my bunk night after night. She and my owner conspired against me, got me to fall in love with her, then tricked me into buying her freedom at the cost of all the credits I’d saved with the hope of buying my own freedom. I never saw her again after the day I handed over all my money.
Too bad someone else killed him during the slave revolt; I wish I could have done it with my bare hands. That was two lunars ago. After that, I was welcomed aboard a ship of escaped gladiators running from the law. I’m glad to be free, but I’m not ready to return to my home planet. I don’t know if I ever want to go back.
I don’t know where I belong, but I don’t think it’s onboard the ship with the others. I’m restless. Trained as a gladiator for the last fifteen years, all I want to do is fight.
“You need singing lessons,” I shout, then take a long swig of havaché.
“You need lessons in good manners,” she snips back immediately, looking down her nose at me from the stage.
Anger flares from my belly then races to heat my face. Dracking bitch is mocking me?
“Who’d you drack to get this job?”
She had turned to her other side as she sang, ignoring me, but her eyes snap to mine because of my question. Despite her anger, she says nothing, just keeps singing.
“Wrage, brother, she wears a slave collar. It’s only been two lunars since you’ve worn one. Why would you provoke the female? She’s just doing her job.”
“Because she’s irritating the drack out of me.”
“Don’t get us kicked out of here. I like watching the pretty thing. Go have fun in the gaming room next door.” He waves toward the arched doorway into the casino.
“Pretty little things can rip you apart, my friend. Have at her.” I’m surprised when I lean to one side as I rise. I didn’t think I drank that much. Weaving a little, I make my way into the casino, fascinated by the lights and noises of the machines. Those don’t interest me, though. I head for the klempto tables.
Elyse
The galaxy has no shortage of assholes, I think as I watch the big red gladiator stagger out of the bar. I thought I’d met my share of assholes before I was abducted. I wasn’t two hours into my journey to outer space before I realized I hadn’t seen anything yet. Earth assholes don’t hold a candle to space assholes.
It’s been a demanding four years since I left Earth. I’m a completely different person—harder.
I received my two-year degree in culi
nary school, but when I turned twenty-one, I took up my real love—singing. I began making decent money in high-end bars, singing and playing piano. I specialized in torch songs throughout the decades. I loved singing the heart-wrenching songs of unrequited desire. From “The Man I Love” Billie Holiday style, to some of Adele’s most soulful renderings.
I loved my life.
Then I was abducted by squat, tusky alien bastards, Urlots, who sold me to a reptilian male who discovered my talent and sent me all over this sector to sing. I’ve had three other owners since then, all of whom treated me as shitty as their predecessor.