Amidst a Crowd of Stars (7 page)

“Yes,” she said, though she didn't know why.

She turned her back and left the kitchen and Keane, and she went to town alone where she spent the day looking in shop windows at items she didn't need and still could not afford.

When she got home, she found the house quiet. The girls slept in their room and Keane in a chair by the window, a newsform on his lap. A covered plate in the coolbox made tears spring to her eyes again. She crept from the kitchen to stand in the living room doorway, watching him.

Then she went to his chair and stood. He opened his eyes.

“Because I'd miss you and the girls,” he whispered in answer to her earlier question.

“We'd miss you too,” Marrin whispered back. “Come to bed.”

She went to the bedroom and got into bed, and Keane got in beside her. They lay in silence for a few minutes.

“I'm sorry I'm not what you expected me to be,” he said at last.

“I'm sorry I expected something different.”

She heard him shift, felt the bed dip as he turned toward her. She waited for him to touch her, but all he said was, “Good night, Marrin.”

“Good night, Keane.”

Today

“Good morning, sir!” the medica chirped as she opened the blinds to let in the sun.

The poor man had fallen asleep by his wife's bedside, holding her hand. The medica smiled and moved closer to put her hand on his shoulder. She drew it back immediately with a small cry of surprise.

“Oh, my,” she said as she ran for someone to come and help her.

Another medica joined her a moment later. “What's wrong, Pimmie?”

She gestured. “They're gone.”

“Both of them?”

She nodded. “Yes. She was ailing, but the young man seemed fine yesterday.”

The other medica moved closer. “She was his grandma?”

Pimmie shook her head, remembering the conversation of the day before. “Oh, no. She was his wife.”

The other medica looked more closely at the man's face. “But he's Seveeran. They don't just die. They have to choose—”

“And he chose,” said Pimmie, tears sliding down her cheeks. “He chose to go. When she did.”

She smiled through the tears. “He didn't want to be without her.”

“Well, now they're both in the stars,” said the other medica. “Together.”

And as she turned to leave the room, Pimmie thought she heard a whisper, but when she turned back to listen, it had gone.

Good night, Marrin.

Good night, Keane. I love you.

I love you, too.

About the Author

To learn more about Megan Hart please visit
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. Send an email to Megan at
[email protected]
. Read her blog at
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Look for these titles by Megan Hart

Now Available:

Passion Model

Protect and Serve just took on a whole new meaning.

Passion Model

© 2010 Megan Hart

For Recreational Intercourse Operative Gemma, patrolling Newcity's Lovehuts and Pleasurebots isn't much of a pleasure. But it's work she clings to after an accident destroyed her marriage and left her with half her body made of replacement parts.

She keeps her head down and her mind on her job, waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall. The head of the ruling council is out to make those like her illegal. If anyone finds out she's mecho, she's toast.

A routine inspection of a Pleasurebot turns into a strictly forbidden—and mind-blowing—sexual encounter. Then she realizes it isn't an “it” at all. He's human, and despite the sweet-hot climaxes he gives her, she buries her report to save them both from the consequences.

Except he can't seem to stay away from her, and for a time life seems almost…normal. Until Gemma uncovers Declan's own deep, dark secret. A secret that could get her fired from R.I.O. Or both of them killed.

Warning: This book contains graphic depictions of sex with men, women, aliens and robots.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Passion Model:

The communal area was done in the same silver and black décor as the lobby. Racks and baskets of vinyl and plaz accessories dominated the space. All manner of Pleasurebots, including the relatively rare VCTM models, prepared themselves for the evening.

“Haven't seen one of those in a while,” Eddie said with a nod toward one of the VCTMs.

She had slash marks all over her naked breasts and belly. Unlike some of the other models, who were busy repairing the minor blemishes their violent activities created, the VCTM was only patting on thin layers of plazskin over her wounds. Any amount of pressure on the slashes would reopen the cuts immediately—which was just the effect she wanted.

She glanced at us from mismatched eyes, a sign she'd been through some heavy action that had required some repairs more major than the ones she was making now. She was exactly the sort of bot whose clients might seek out a damaged PSSN model.

“We're looking for a PSSN-F-03, street name Relava.” I showed her the holo.

She spoke in a voice like grated glass. “I don't work with regular bots.”

Despite what most people might think, the VCTM models are actually among the most intelligent. They have to be. Dumb bots putting themselves in situations where they're caused constant physical harm as part of some citizen's sexual thrills would be destroyed so fast it wouldn't be worth constructing them.

“She's got a damaged ignition.”

“Well, that changes things.” She gave the holo another look. Her flat gaze took in the picture, and then she nodded. “I've seen her.”

People expect Ops to be taciturn and steadfast all the time, but when we get a break we get just as excited as anybody else. I maintained my composure better than Eddie, who let out a long, hissing “yesss!” The VCTM gave him a jaded glance that reminded me how much some of these models are really like women.

She pulled a complicated contraption of spikes and vinyl from a rack and looked at it for a moment before slipping it over her breasts. The spikes, instead of pointing outward, dug into her skin. She didn't flinch.

Intelligent or not, she obviously still needed leading. “Where did you see her?”

Luck had finally caught up with us. She jerked her head toward one of the corridors. “She was recharging back there a while ago.”

Sometimes, my instincts scare even myself. Before I even turned, I knew Relava had entered the dressing room. The quiver had become so pronounced, her high heels chattered on the floor.

There's not much loyalty among bots. The ones gathered in dressing room scattered like rats startled by the light of a hovertaxi. Relava didn't waste any time. She shot through the room, shoving the VCTM model aside with one arm, and barreled through the room at top speed.

Eddie was quick, but I'm just faster. Relava flew past him. Her eyes met mine for one startled minute, and then she was past me too. I whirled in place and followed.

She pushed through the doors and into the lobby, and I was close enough on her heels to smell the stench of ozone that clung to her like bad perfume. I swiped a hand at my stunner, but she put on an extra burst of speed as we rounded the edge of the desk and I couldn't get close enough to reach her.

In another moment, she hit the street. The plazglass doors cracked behind us, but we kept going. Relava lurched through the crowd, which had become larger as night fell.

I switched easily into hyperdrive with nothing more than a mental push. The muscles and tendons in my legs took energy from organs getting less use at the moment, like intestines and kidneys. My lungs expanded the additional fraction that allowed me to take in extra air. I pushed off from the pavement. I'm not truly able to fly, but in those moments of hyperdrive, it's as close as any person can ever get. My hand swiped at her and caught the trailing strands of her dark hair. My fingers tangled, and she stumbled.

It wasn't quite enough to stop her. She kept going for another few feet, right into the path of traffic. The hovertaxi screeched to a stop, but not soon enough. The vehicle struck her, hard, in the midsection.

Her torso split, and her limbs separated from her body. Her head rolled along the ground. She was still smiling.

Blue sparks arced for a moment between the sad, scattered pieces of her body before fizzling to black smoke. A finger twitched, and one eye closed. As quickly as that, she was deactivated.

“God-of-choice, I hate doing a Blade Runner,” I muttered. My stomach twisted.

The crowd didn't pause to gawk. The hovertaxi driver got out and inspected the front of his undamaged vehicle, asked me if he needed to stick around, and cursed when I told him he'd have to fill out some paperwork.

Eddie appeared with a tarp from inside, and we waited until a cleanup crew arrived to pick up the pieces. That and the inevitable forms we had to fill out took a good part of an hour, and by that time, darkness had fallen over this part of the District.

Eddie clapped a hand to his stomach. “I'm starving.”

Relava's flight and demise had stolen my appetite. “Let's call it a day.”

“Hey, G,” Eddie said with a glance at his timepiece. “Didn't you have a date tonight?”

The world seemed to stand still for a moment. I checked my internal clock. “Oh, no.”

I'd forgotten all about Declan.

When the heart sets its course, even home is no escape…

Force of Attraction

© 2009 Mandy M. Roth

Project Exorcism, Book 2

With a Commission uniform on her back and an engagement ring from the ship commander on her finger, a normal life is finally within Dr. Marisa Langston's reach. If she can just learn to love her fiancé, everything will be perfect. Except for the perfectly arrogant Lieutenant Commander Bradi Janelle. He not only gets on her last nerve, he makes her body burn with a hunger only he can satisfy. Distraction is dangerous for a woman who has something to hide…especially when the ship is sabotaged.

Bradi isn't looking for a mate. Hell, he goes out of his way to avoid the prospect altogether—until the sexy little number in the infirmary makes a mockery of his ladies' man façade. Now, trapped with her in an escape pod, she's way too close for comfort. Too close to deny himself the heaven of her body. And her semi-conscious ramblings reveal way too much information—secrets that are dangerous for them both.

Their out-of-control hormones are the least of their problems. The pod is careening toward his home planet. Once there, Marisa won't be the only one with nothing left to hide…

This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release.

Warning: Contains steaming hot baby-making in close quarters, sexy shifters in a galaxy far, far away, and a giant eel. Don't worry, it's friendly. Most of the time.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Force of Attraction:

Bradi woke slowly, his joints aching and his body on fire. It was normal with his condition for his body to react to changes in the temperature automatically. It was also common for him to run several degrees hotter than a human. That was just one of the reasons why he'd refused to allow Dr. Marisa Langston to evaluate him. Hell, he hadn't ever allowed any Commission doctor to examine him. It'd cost him a pretty penny to pay others to forge his documents, but it was necessary all the same. Besides, he had no family so money wasn't really a concern for him.

Marisa was still sleeping and he didn't want to wake her. She looked like an angel lying there with her arms pulled up close to her chest and it took everything in him not to reach out and touch her. The cut on her arm had finally stopped bleeding but the slightest bump could easily break it open. Rolling on his side, Bradi winced when pain radiated through his shoulder.

Peeking out the POD window, his stomach dropped. There, in the distance, he saw the tell-tale aquamarine color of Margaidia, their original destination and the destination that had been programmed into all the escape PODs should there be trouble. The POD had overshot the planet and was headed on a direct path for Sargaidia, the uncharted sister planet to Margaidia, and the last place in the universe he wanted to go back to.

Bradi checked the computer and found it frozen over. Looking around the POD, he realized that the entire thing was covered with a thin frost.

Marisa.

Dropping down next to her, he touched her lightly. Her body was rigid and extremely cool to the touch.

“Doc?” he asked, shaking her gently. She didn't respond and his gut twisted. The thought of her freezing to death before he was able to get the POD operational again was a very real possibility.

“Come on, babe,” he said, hoping to goad her into responding. The faint blue line around her lips told him that no amount of prodding would help. Acting quickly, Bradi pulled his shirt off and reached for her. Groaning softly from the pain shooting through him, he covered Marisa's body with his own. “This isn't enough.”

Bradi worked his boots and pants off before reaching for Marisa's uniform. He'd been dying to get her out of her clothes from day one, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. He worked her shirt over her head and did his best not to stare at the luscious pale globes before him. Her pink nipples looked good enough to eat and everything in him wanted to sample them. The faint light from the navigational controls reflected off her pale skin and he had to be closer to her.

The nasty cut on her upper arm seemed to be holding, but the fear of breaking it open left him moving slower than he should to warm her body. Working her boots and pants off, Bradi lingered a little too long near the top of her panty line. Thoughts of Pete kept him from peeking further.