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Piloting Fury Part 31: Brand New KDG Read

Happy Friday my Lovelies, and time for another chapter of Fury. If you’re enjoying Fury, please spread the word and pass the link to a friend. I love to share my stories with as many people as possible. I’m offering a new episode of Fury every Friday. Remember this is a work in progress, so please be gentle with me. We left Gerando and Rab in a right proper mess. This week we meet Gerando’s father and it’s not a happy reunion for anyone.

 

 

“Win the bet and Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” It seemed like a no-brainer — Rick Manning’s slightly inebriated offer. If he’d been sober, he’d have remembered indentured pilot, Diana “Mac” McAllister never lost a bet. All her life she’s dreamed of buying back her freedom and owning her own starship, and when Fury’s ne’er-do-well, irritating as hell captain all but hands Fury to her on a silver platter she figures she can’t lose. She figured wrong. That’s how the best pilot in the galaxy finds herself the indentured 1st mate of a crew that, thanks to her, has doubled in size. Too late, she finds out Fury is way more than a cargo ship. Fury is a ship with a history – a dangerous history, and one that Mac’s been a part of for a lot longer than she thinks. And Rick Manning is not above cheating at poker to get her right at the center of it all, exactly where he needs her to be.

 

Piloting Fury Part 31: Abriad Fallon

The rest of the tow into the bowels of the Apocalypse was made in silence, and when the hatch opened inside the shuttle bay of the big ship, there were four uniformed berserkers waiting to escort them to the bridge. Rab thought that was definitely fucking overkill, but then maybe daddy was taking Junior’s throw-away statement to heart. Or maybe Junior was dead serious. He reminded himself again that this was the same little prick that killed hookers on a regular basis, killed a respected notary, and damn near killed him. Fucking hell! How did he get mixed up in this mess anyway? Back at the beginning, just being free of the shackle seemed worth any price. Now, he wasn’t so goddamned sure.

The only orca class starship he’d ever been on was the Dubrovnik, and it was an early version, though the Fire Star Conglomerate kept it state of the art due to the fact that the Dubrovnik was by far the most profitable ship of the conglomerate’s freighters. Hell, Rab had been proud to work on the Dubrovnik. But the Apocalypse was a goddamn floating fortress. The Apocalypse was a crazy mix of military and up your ass, hoity-toity luxury, exactly what he’d expect from Fallon. He’d heard that the man was one paranoid fucker, that he never stayed in one place more than one night at a time – easy to do when one of your homes was a goddamn orca class starship. The man was one twisted sonovabitch. Explained a lot where Junior was concerned. But hell, being brought right to the heart of the beast’s lair was damn near enough to make a man shit himself. All Rab had signed on for was observing Diana McAllister and Captain Harker. That was what got his shackle removed, and back then he couldn’t see beyond his freedom. But he was beginning to think he was as much of a prisoner as he was when he had the shackle shoved in his arm. Hell, right now he was pretty sure shit was even worse. No good thinking about it now. The die had been cast, and damned if he knew how he’d get out of this game alive. That stopped being a sure bet when they lost McAllister.

It was only as the lift opened onto the bridge with its huge view screen that Rab realized the Ares wasn’t the only ship held captive by the Apocalypse. The ship being on screen was a raven class freighter, severely damaged. As they approached the console a lone man tall and lean stood looking out. He was dressed in the uniform of an admiral onboard a military ship, though Rab couldn’t recall that Fallon had ever served. He spoke without looking at them.

“You remember the Svalbard, don’t you, Rab? Or perhaps you don’t. The message about the Svalbard was, after all only one of the mindless, meaningless drone of subspace transmissions you sent me from the Dubrovnik over the years.” Before he could respond, the man turned, and Rab found himself face to face with Abriad fucking Fallon, icy eyes gluing him to the goddamn floor, eyebrows raised, clearly expecting an answer.

“I remember it. Yes. It was a distress call. A radiation leak. The Dubrovnik answered, as per ship’s protocol.”

The bastard offered a cold smile that never reached his eyes. “And you thought it strange that members of the Dubrovnik’s crew went onboard a ship with a radiation leak rather than dealing with it remotely.”

“It was strange.” The longer Rab was the center of the man’s attention the more he felt like he was being slowly strangled. “But Harker said there was extenuating circumstances and the ships doctor explained, details that meant nothing to me. I’m sorry.”

 

 

“No need to be,” Fallon raised a hand like he was some goddamn New Vaticana priest passing out absolution or some shit. “You did your job. You sent the transmission, and it has troubled me all these years, Leo Rab. It has troubled me, that strange encounter between the Dubrovnik and the Svalbard. Yes, it has troubled me until this very day. Until now.” With that he turned back to the view screen, and Rab was relieved not to be in the man’s evil eye. But the relief was short lived when the view changed to the bridge of the Svalbard, which looked like a war zone a goddamned war zone. It was deserted except for one battered looking man barely able to sit upright in the captain’s chair. “Captain Bryar,” Fallon said, “you may as well tell me what I want to know about the Fury and its crew, because I will find the answer. That is a promise.”

To Rab’s surprised it was the kid who cursed in a strangled breath. “You bloody fucking bastard.”

How the hell was it even possible for Abriad Fallon to make a smile look fatal? “I believe it is you who are the bastard, Gerando, and of a whore as lacking in brains as she was beauty, though certainly not in willingness to spread her legs.” He turned that awful smile on Rab, like they were talking politely over fucking afternoon tea. “You see all of my children are bastards, Rab. I quite enjoy the uncertainty of that battle over my legacy. And of course the genetic soup can be so very intriguing.” Then he strolled leisurely to stand in front of his son and straightened the lapels of his jacket. Credit to the kid. He didn’t so much as flinch as his father addressed him almost nose to nose. “And if you make another unwarranted comment on my ship, on my bridge, while I am meeting with the good captain Bryar, then I shall have to punish you, boy.”

Rab wasn’t sure he could have spoken if he’d wanted to, and while Gerardo said nothing else, he fidgeted as though he had New Texan fire ants in his pants. Fuck, it was like the kid was asking for trouble!

Fallon sauntered back to the console and offered poor Bryar a beneficent smile. “Forgive the interruption, captain. Children are so disrespectful these days. One has to keep a tight rein on them. Now as I was saying, the way I see it you have nothing to gain by keeping silent and possibly a chance to live if you speak. I know the Fury is an SNT, and I know its destination is Plague 1. All I need to know from you is why on earth would anyone want to go there?”

“I’ll tell you nothing, Fallon. You may destroy the Svalbard and her fine crew. You may go after her allies, but there will be an answering. That I promise you. There will be an answering.”

Vaticana jesu! What the hell was the kid up to? The fucker couldn’t stand still, he was all but convulsing with nerves. The little shit was going to get them both killed, Rab thought, as he struggled to pay attention to what Fallon was saying while trying to calm the kid. He was beginning to wonder if he was about to have some kind of goddamned fit. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top? The thought was barely out of Rab’s head when Fallon did something on the console, and the Svalbard exploded, momentarily blinding them all as it flashed then vanished into nothing more than a after image in empty space. There wasn’t even a sign of debris to show that the Svalbard had ever been there.

Gerardo doubled over and puked. His father made a disgusted sound. “If you’ve not the sac for the task at hand, boy, then perhaps I should send you back to Terra Nova Prime to see if the scientists at the Fire Star Institute might clone you some balls.” He turned to Rab. “Get him off my bridge. The berserkers will show you to your quarters. I’ll send for you both in an hour. Get him sorted.” He nodded to Gerando, who now stood wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, eyeing his old man like he wanted to pull the sonovabitch’s liver out and stomp on it.

 

 

Piloting Fury Part 30: Brand New KDG Read

Happy Friday my Lovelies, and time for another chapter of Fury. If you’re enjoying Fury, please spread the word and pass the link to a friend. I love to share my stories with as many people as possible. I’m offering a new episode of Fury every Friday. Remember this is a work in progress, so please be gentle with me. Last week we left Rab and Gerando in detective mode. This week, while their sleuthing pays off, they get a surprise visit from a very unwelcome visitor arrives.  Enjoy.

 

 

“Win the bet and Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” It seemed like a no-brainer — Rick Manning’s slightly inebriated offer. If he’d been sober, he’d have remembered indentured pilot, Diana “Mac” McAllister never lost a bet. All her life she’s dreamed of buying back her freedom and owning her own starship, and when Fury’s ne’er-do-well, irritating as hell captain all but hands Fury to her on a silver platter she figures she can’t lose. She figured wrong. That’s how the best pilot in the galaxy finds herself the indentured 1st mate of a crew that, thanks to her, has doubled in size. Too late, she finds out Fury is way more than a cargo ship. Fury is a ship with a history – a dangerous history, and one that Mac’s been a part of for a lot longer than she thinks. And Rick Manning is not above cheating at poker to get her right at the center of it all, exactly where he needs her to be.

 

Piloting Fury Part 30: An Unwelcome Visitor

Rab scratched his chin. “They would have had to jump like fucking jackrabbits to get far enough out of there and leave no trace to be followed.” He rubbed his belly. “Makes me green around the gills to even think about it. Anyway, how the hell do you know so goddamned much about the SNTs?”

If Rab didn’t know better, he could have sworn the kid blushed. “I know everything there is in the Authority data base about the SNTs and a few things that aren’t public knowledge.” He grunted a sour chuckle. “Even my father doesn’t know that I hacked him. I was obsessed with them. They’re the reason I wanted to be a pilot. I wanted to be compliment to an SNT. Woulda got me away from … shit. Then, you know … everything happened like it did.”

Rab looked up from his efforts at checking through the Ares’ computer scanners for something, anything. “Woulda never figured you for the compliment type. In your case, I doubt anyone would have blamed an SNT for offing its compliment.”

The kid gave him the finger with his good hand, then flinched again as the bone-knitting process got down to the more delicate work.

“If we had the exact time McAllister and Manning Mol-tranned out, we might be able to pick up something jumping an instant later.”

Junior made a one-handed effort to pull his device free from his pocket. “This won’t be exact, but pretty damn close. The old man messaged me, shit, it couldn’t have been a minute before I grabbed McAllister. I’d just had time to tell him to fuck off, I was busy. And then …” He fidgeted with his device, “ … he messaged me back. I felt the signal just as Manning appeared and grabbed McAllister away from me. I remember thinking it was something Manning had done to me. You know how it is in that split second when things don’t quite add up. By the time I connected the dots, they were gone” He pulled up the message and gave a bitter laugh as he read out loud.

Busy had better mean finding Diana McAllister.

“The sentimental old fart,” Rab grumbled. The kid handed his his device and Rab entered the time of the message into the search parameters of the Ares. “There it is. Gotta be.”

“Where? I don’t see anything.” Junior craned his neck and the both squinted.

“Right there. See. If you back up the scan, it’s there, it’s there, it’s there and then … it’s gone.”

 

 

 

And sure enough, it was. It was only a blip, a tiny blip that someone with vision not as good as Rab’s would have missed entirely. But it was there up until a split second after the message from daddy Fallon, and then it was gone. Just gone. “Had to have mol-tranned them from high orbit. That’s all I can figure, and the blip is so small, there’s no other explanation. Bloody hell! What else could possibly do that but an SNT?”

Over the next few hours they both buried themselves in research. Rab was surprised that sonny boy really was quit an expert on the SNTs. “We don’t want to approach your old man without enough evidence to keep him from thinking we’re just making excuses,” Rab said, getting what was definitely a crash course, more than he ever wanted to know about sentient ships.

“We give him the right information, he’ll believe it,” the kid said. He was stuffing his face with something he’d replicated that looked like dirty underwear, supposedly a delicacy from somewhere in the outer rim, sitting on the floor with several devices spread around him, all displaying different SNT articles. He added around a mouthful. “The old man kept a close eye on the project. He had spies on the inside. The scientists and technicians involved sure as fuck didn’t trust him. The SNT project was funded by the Free Universities and not one credit came from the conglomerates. No matter how much my father offered in financial backing, they wouldn’t take it. I have no idea where all the money came from. I didn’t think there were any universities left that could finance their own asses without conglomerate backing. But they insisted they didn’t want the conglomerates in control.” He laughed a bitter laugh that sprayed several of the devices with crumbs. “That meant no control for the old man. Well I’m sure you can imagine how much he liked that. But there wasn’t much he could do except stay close and bribe as many people on the inside as he could. He was actually friends with several of the scientists, including Adrian McAllister. They’d gone to school together or some shit.”

“Then you knew Diana Mac before she was your father’s indentured? That must have been awkward.”

“I didn’t actually.”

Could Rab hear sadness in his voice?

“Her father kept her a secret, kept her away from the SNT project as far as I know. No one knew about her until the year before her old man bonded with the Merlin, and all of a sudden he had a daughter who was to be by his side onboard the Merlin. I probably hated her as much for that as anything, even though I didn’t know her.” Junior was no longer looking at the devices in front of him, but staring back in time at memories that Rab would guess weren’t best pleasing. “When she became my father’s indentured, I wanted her to suffer. She’d gotten what I wanted most, the only thing I’d ever wanted in my whole life, and she was nothing more than the bastard daughter of a mad scientist. I was the son of Abriad Fallon. I had whole conglomerates at my disposal, and yet she got what I wanted. I wanted her to suffer. I wanted to be the one to make her suffer.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Turned out I was an amateur compared to the old man. When it came to making someone suffer, he’d been practicing on his kids for years.”

What the hell could Rab say to that? He felt a sudden chill, even though the atmosphere in the Ares was Terran standard for humanoids.

“After the SNTs fell, everyone suspected it was conglomerate sabotage responsible for the infecting of the ships,” the kid said going back to pouring over the devices.

“Is that what you think? Rab asked.

He spoke without looking up from his efforts. “Wouldn’t doubt one bit that my fucking father was at the forefront of their downfall. The old man always has to be in control. When the Free Universities wouldn’t give it over, well, business opportunity missed, plunder and pillage and all that shit. I mean what’s the point in having power if you don’t use it, right? All you gotta do is kill a few million innocent people and point the finger in the right direction and people will start screaming for heads to roll.”

Rab couldn’t argue with that, though he wished ha could. Into their silent introspection an orca class ship burst onto the view screen as if out of nowhere and before they could do more than curse, the Ares was locked in a tractor beam, being draw into the open hold of the flying castle.

“Sonovabitch,”Junior cursed. “That’s the Apocalypse, my father’s bloody ship.”

“What the fuck? Your father flits around the galaxy in an orca class ship?”

“The fucker doesn’t feel safe staying in one place, and with good reason. The Apocalypse is a flying fortress. I’ve never seen it before. He doesn’t invite any of his spawn onboard. Doesn’t trust us not to slit his throat in his sleep, I suppose.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t trust him not to slit mine,” Rab said as the Ares, seeming tiny and insignificant, was swallowed up in the maw of the Apocalypse.

Junior’s laugh was so bitter that it made Rab’s skin crawl. “Oh he’d never do anything to either of us that elementary.

 

 

His kids, most of us anyway, we just want him dead. He, on the other hand, is more about making people suffer than snuffing them.”

The knot in Rab’s stomach had tightened to an icy fist, and he wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to puke. “What the hell is he doing clear out here?”

“Doing the job you two don’t seem to be able to manage,” came the voice of Abriad Fallon over the com, and they both jumped as though they’d been shot. The icy chuckle barely sounded human. “Careful, Gerando. Your sisters and brothers won’t be best pleased with you if you give away their plans for their old man.”

The kid tightened his jaw and the muscles along his sharp cheekbones spasmed, but he made no response. Fallon continued. “Once the Ares is onboard, I will expect the pleasure of your company on the captain’s bridge.”

 

Piloting Fury Part 29: Brand New KDG Read

Happy Friday my Lovelies, and time for another chapter of Fury. If you’re enjoying Fury, please spread the word and pass the link to a friend. I love to share my stories with as many people as possible. I’m offering a new episode of Fury every Friday. Remember this is a work in progress, so please be gentle with me. While last week, Mac and Manning were celebrating, this week Rab and Gerando are in detective mode. Enjoy.

 

 

“Win the bet and Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” It seemed like a no-brainer — Rick Manning’s slightly inebriated offer. If he’d been sober, he’d have remembered indentured pilot, Diana “Mac” McAllister never lost a bet. All her life she’s dreamed of buying back her freedom and owning her own starship, and when Fury’s ne’er-do-well, irritating as hell captain all but hands Fury to her on a silver platter she figures she can’t lose. She figured wrong. That’s how the best pilot in the galaxy finds herself the indentured 1st mate of a crew that, thanks to her, has doubled in size. Too late, she finds out Fury is way more than a cargo ship. Fury is a ship with a history – a dangerous history, and one that Mac’s been a part of for a lot longer than she thinks. And Rick Manning is not above cheating at poker to get her right at the center of it all, exactly where he needs her to be.

 

Piloting Fury Part 29: Not Just Any SNT

Back onboard the Ares, Gerando and Rab were alone. Before this little cluster fuck, the kid had sent his bullyboys off gambling, afraid McAllister would recognize them if they all packed into the Corsair like a goddamned birthday party. Rab sat Junior down and set the auto-doc to work on his hand. There were several broken bones and some damaged ligaments, but nothing the med-bot couldn’t fix in a few hours. The kid had been silent as the grave since he finally calmed down. He looked grey with exhaustion, symptoms Rab had seen in one of the indentureds he’d served with who periodically had strange fits. Once the fits passed, he was exhausted and dead quiet. He had the kid drinking one of the electrolyte formulas from the replicator. It kept him off the booze. Besides Rab reckoned he needed it. He looked like death on a cracker.

“Never seen anything like that mol-tran,” Rab said. While the auto-doc treated Gerando’s hand, he made himself useful by checking the Ares sensor scans for the last few hours while they’d been at the Corsair. “Nothing on long, or short range scanners that I can see,” he said. “It isn’t possible that the Fury could have been in doc. As soon as they ‘tranned, I did a quick sweep. Thanks to the toys your old man gave us, that kind of activity I’d have picked up.” When Gerando gave him a vacant look, he added. “I did that while you were trashing the place.” The kid nodded like that made everything clear, and then Rab could see the wheels turning, as his brain started to wake up and pay attention.

“One minute they were there and the next they were gone,” Gerando said. “Just gone, and I had McAllister right there in my grip. She didn’t call out to anyone, she didn’t use any kind of communicator. She didn’t do anything except head butt the hell out of me. Might need the auto-doc to check for whiplash.” He rubbed his neck with his good hand and for a second seemed lost in concentration. “Manning said something just before they ‘tranned, but it was so soft, I couldn’t hear him. Did you hear him?”

Rab shook his head. For the moment the two sat in silence with Rab flipping mindlessly through the Ares scans, and not a clue what he was looking for. “Hell, any mol-tran I’ve ever seen would have taken out you and me and most of the blokes in the pisser, not to mention a quarter of the bar. But then most of those were off-system, used for industrial and freight transport only. Probably crush humanoid molecules to a pulp.”

“Pretty sophisticated tech.” Junior ran his teeth over his lower lip and craned his neck to see what Rab was seeing, which was a whole lot of nothing. “Did you tell my father our plan?”

“Course I didn’t.” Fucking hell, Rab hated feeling like a misbehaving brat about to get in trouble. He never had that problem on the Dubrovnik. He did his job and minded his own business and everyone else did the same. “We got lucky was all.”

“Some fucking luck,” the kid mumbled.

“That McAllister was there at all, I mean. That was just dumb luck, just a hunch. I’ve seen the woman win at poker. In fact I never seen her lose until she lost to Manning the night she disappeared. The woman could scam the skin off a fire toad. Saving every credit, she was, trying to buy her contract back.”

 

 

Junior grunted. “If she won half of the outer rim, the old man wouldn’t let her go. The way he sees it, she’s the last link to the SNTs. She might know stuff he wants to know, her DNA might contain information he can use, and the way he sees it, she’s too dangerous to be a free woman.” The kid shrugged. “I never saw what the big deal was about her. I mean okay, she looks pretty fine now that her hair’s grown back out. The old man used to make her keep it short, butch-like, and he kept her thin, like she was a boy. Like he went out of his way to make sure no one would look at her.” He shrugged. “I never understood why he did it. He just kept her around to toy with, and she … well she did teach me how to fly. He wouldn’t let me fuck her though.”

Hell, the kid spoke like they were discussing the weather instead of the violation of another person, one barely more than a little girl. It was a slap in the face reminder to Rab that this kid had been raised by a monster, and that monster’s DNA ran through his blood. He shivered.

“My point is, we don’t really need to tell him about anything do we? We were just following a lead that fell through. That’s all.”

They both knew Fallon would figure it out, and he’d cut them no slack, never mind that their plan absolutely would have worked if Manning hadn’t ‘tranned McAllister out, and that still bothered Rab.

Fuck if he wasn’t relieved that McAllister had gotten away again. She was his only job at the moment. She was the key to his staying free and living out the rest of his life fat and happy and dandling grandkids on his knee in his old age. The kid would have raped her — probably worse. Rab knew he would only have control over her treatment as long as he was aboard the Ares, and even then he had to sleep sometime. Then there was Fallon senior’s displeasure at having his prize possession escape from under his nose. He wasn’t entirely sure Daddy would mind if Sonny-boy had a go with his toy before he dropped her back into the lion’s den. And none of that was his concern, he reminded himself. Still it didn’t set well thinking of her abused like that. She was a good pilot, a good person as far as he could tell and here he was hunting her down like some animal on a game reserve. Fuck! He wondered who the monster really was.

“You know, you’re right about that mol-tran,” the kid said, bringing his focus back to the present. “That sort of thing isn’t even possible, and it sure as fuck can’t be done by a cloaked ship. Hell a decent cloaking device is even harder to come by than a mol-tran that can ‘trann humanoids. I’ve been trying to get both for the Ares for years now, and even with my name, and me throwing around credits like it’s Vaticana Christmas. I did finally got my hands on a mol-tran that would do the job and not scramble my brain,” he leaned forward and gave Rab a confidential chuckle. “Jakes and Ribbons, I’m not too sure about though.”

“Not to sure about you either, buck,” Rab said, and the kid only shrugged.

“I’m a Fallon, I reckon the slop in my brain is a pre-existing condition.” He looked down into his empty electrolyte glass. “Mol-tran is one thing, but a cloaking device more than only partially effective, well that just flat out doesn’t exist.”

And then it hit Rab like a ton of triax ore. “It does exist though, or at least it did.”

“Shit!” Fallon made the word long and drawn out, followed by a flinch as the auto-doc engaged the bone-knit. “On the SNTs it did – both mol-tran and a sophisticated cloaking device far better than any technology we have now. They were possible because the ships were biotech. Fuck me! Surely you don’t think the Fury’s an SNT? You said according to Gruber the ship was barely space worthy.

“You ever hear of hiding in plain sight? If the SNTs were capable of cloaking, couldn’t they change their appearance too? Think about it? The Authority Hunters were all over that abandon space station where Blake led them. He had it all set up. There was no escape for them. The bastard’s not about to sacrifice his skin to an Authority shackle, and all the better if a little snitching got him some serious profit on top. Goddman Polyphemians. You can’t trust any of them. But never mind that. We know for a fact that the Fury was there. The hunters caught the transmissions between the two ships just before Blake jumped. Blake saw it, gave coordinates too exact to make up. The Hunters combed that station with every scanner the Authority has. If they can’t find it with all of their tech, it can’t be found. And yet there was nothing. Nada. Their conclusion was that there must have been an escape route Blake didn’t know about. But what if the Fury was there all along, just hiding in plane sight?”

“Shiiit!” Junior said again. The auto-doc gave a warning for him to sit still. “If we’re right, then the Fury is not just an SNT, the Fury is SNT1. Only SNT1 has the capability to change the appearance of its outer structure quick and easy-like. The others could do it, but they had to evolve to it. SNT1was actually born, created from a humanoid embryo. It could manipulate molecules into anything it wanted. Only SNT1 could look like a bucket of bolts and fly like a goddamned angel.”

 

 

Completely Yours by Isabelle Lauren @RomanticIsa #Erotica #EroticRomance #BisexualRomance

Blurb

Caroline is on top of her game. Black Goddess, her company, is opening a store in New York, and a week away from the office is just what Caroline needs. In Toronto, she has to play the role of the prim, successful business woman, romantically linked with her business partner Daniel. But in New York she can be sexually free. It doesn’t hurt that this time, her attractive project manager Alisha is coming with them.

Alisha is attracted to both her bosses, but she is determined not to jeopardise her career.  This determination is shaken when Caroline proposes a no-strings attached sexual relationship for the duration of the business trip. Unable to deny her feelings Alisha embarks upon a scorching sexual journey with Caroline.

Daniel is in love with Caroline. Knowing that their romantic relationship is nothing more than a facade with no chance of ever becoming a reality, Daniel decides to quit his job as Caroline’s business partner in an effort to protect his heart. All he has to do is survive the week in New York. But can he continue to deny his feelings, especially when Caroline needs him?

When the media makes details of Caroline’s sexual excesses public, Caroline, Alisha and Daniel must work together to save the future of Black Goddess—and their hearts.

Buy links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Completely-Yours-Isabelle-Lauren-ebook/dp/B08L17BMQY/

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/completely-yours-isabelle-lauren/1138272680

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/completely-yours-8

Apple: https://books.apple.com/gb/book/completely-yours/id1541531014?

*****

Excerpt

Caroline sighed as the stress of the past weeks drained away. It was always good to come to New York, and even though their time here would be hectic with the new store opening, it would be less stressful than being in Toronto. She’d always loved New York, though she’d never move here—it was her escape from her life back home that made it so alluring. Here she could be herself, without fear of judgment. She was relatively anonymous, which she loved. She hoped that opening up a store here wouldn’t change that.

She closed her eyes and basked in the sun’s heat. It wasn’t the sticky heat of summer yet, thank goodness. There was still a coolness to the breeze, but the sun had gained enough in strength to warm her.

Her shoulders relaxed. She had a busy day ahead. There were meetings to be held and decisions to be made, but for now, she enjoyed her cup of coffee in the sun. The week would be brutal, but in between the busy meetings, she’d scheduled some time for herself. And for Daniel, if she was honest. The man needed a break. It’d been a hard year and she worried about him. He’d been distracted lately, missing appointments and dropping the ball on some important agreements. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said he was in love, but Daniel didn’t do love. He hadn’t been in a relationship in years.

That’s what she loved about him. He’d never judge her lifestyle, because he was the same. Her lovers were always temporary, some even staying as short as a few weeks. It was the perfect setup: she got her satisfaction but didn’t have to worry about commitment. Daniel had never disapproved, nor had he tried to talk her into committing to a relationship. There had been a time—long ago—when she’d wanted a relationship. Settle down with a partner, maybe even have a child down the line…but she’d come to realize that she couldn’t tie herself down to one person. The thought of only having sex with one partner for the rest of her life horrified her, so she’d given up looking for commitment.

Yes, it was good to be back in New York. Even if they’d brought Alisha. Not that she had anything against her—on the contrary—but it usually was only she and Daniel. It wasn’t to be helped, though. With the opening around the corner, it had made sense to take their project manager. Alisha had proven herself competent in the last few weeks. Caroline was happy she’d listened to Daniel and hired her.

She’d initially balked at bringing in a project manager. She could oversee the project perfectly well herself. Or so she’d thought. But while in the past she had been able to micromanage a project, the business had grown so much; she had to rely on others to get the job completed. She wouldn’t lie, it had been hard. Daniel had to keep reminding her to allow Alisha to do her job. And what a brilliant job she had done. Caroline couldn’t have asked for a better project manager. It was as if Alisha read her thoughts. Often Caroline would wish for something, only to find out that Alisha had preempted her request and had taken care of things.

It had been a long time since she’d been able to rely on a person like that. Apart from Daniel, of course. Daniel was her right-hand man and had been with her from the beginning. She didn’t know what she’d do without him. If it hadn’t been for his relentless work ethic and inexhaustible fount of encouragement for her, Black Goddess wouldn’t be where it was now.

Having Alisha here meant a chance to live a bit, have fun, and not worry so much. The past weeks—no, make that months—had been so stressful, she’d hardly had time to take care of herself. In Toronto she had to keep up the appearance of being a wealthy, successful, and—most of all—boring business woman. In New York, she could be the loose woman who’d bring back strangers to the hotel room for sex. She missed that. Not just sex with strangers, but any type of sex. When was the last time she’d been thoroughly satisfied? It’d been months at least. Well, no longer. This week she would live it up.

As busy as she would be, she would go back to Toronto refreshed and energized. Exactly what she needed. And maybe with Alisha here, she could step back a little. It was Alisha’s job to manage the project, so she should let her do just that.

She hoped Alisha wasn’t a prude. That was always the risk of bringing additional people to New York. She wanted to be totally herself, but she was acutely aware of the fact that many people still had problems with casual sex. Or sex in general. There was nothing wrong with liking sex, as long as it was performed safely between consenting adults, but some people didn’t seem to get that.

Alisha seemed different, though. She reminded Caroline very much of herself when she was younger. Not that she was that much older than Alisha—about five years. Alisha possessed that same drive, that hunger to be successful, to do a good job and receive recognition for it. But there was more to her than ambition. She brought to mind a large cat. Beautiful, gracious, but ready to strike at any moment. There was a sexual energy running through her. If she hadn’t been her employee, Caroline would’ve loved to explore that further.

Shaking her head at her thoughts, she finished her coffee and went back into the suite. It was time to do some work.

*****

About the author

Isabelle has been writing ever since she can remember. She’s tried her hand at pretty much any genre, but being an incurable romantic with a filthy mind, she made erotic romance her genre. Her books combine searing sex scenes with deep emotional connections. She loves making her readers hot with her words and is always happy to hear how her books have affected them.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RomanticIsa

Website: https://isabellelauren.com

*****

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Piloting Fury Part 28: Brand New KDG Read

Happy Friday my Lovelies, and time for another chapter of Fury. Today is a bit of a milestone in our journey with Manning and Mac aboard Fury for several reasons. I told you early on that Piloting Fury is a draft of a novel, with the first half already rewritten into final form or very close. Well, as of this episode, I am rewriting as I post. That means some episodes may be a little slower getting to you depending on how much effort the rewrite takes, so please be patient with me. I would rather get it to you in stellar form (if you’ll excuse the pun) than half-finished.

Secondly, today is the first episode of Fury that might not be suitable for work. You knew it was coming, didn’t you? 🙂 That means a longer post today because it’s just rude to break a hot scene halfway through and make you wait till next week.

If you’re enjoying Fury, please spread the word and pass the link to a friend. I love to share my stories with as many people as possible. I’m offering a new episode of Fury every Friday. Remember this is a work in progress, so please be gentle with me. This week Mac and Manning celebrate as more secrets are revealed.

 

 

“Win the bet and Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” It seemed like a no-brainer — Rick Manning’s slightly inebriated offer. If he’d been sober, he’d have remembered indentured pilot, Diana “Mac” McAllister never lost a bet. All her life she’s dreamed of buying back her freedom and owning her own starship, and when Fury’s ne’er-do-well, irritating as hell captain all but hands Fury to her on a silver platter she figures she can’t lose. She figured wrong. That’s how the best pilot in the galaxy finds herself the indentured 1st mate of a crew that, thanks to her, has doubled in size. Too late, she finds out Fury is way more than a cargo ship. Fury is a ship with a history – a dangerous history, and one that Mac’s been a part of for a lot longer than she thinks. And Rick Manning is not above cheating at poker to get her right at the center of it all, exactly where he needs her to be.

 

Piloting Fury Part 28: Connections

Fury replicated some scrumptious dish from one of the Feshun worlds so far beyond the Outer Rim that no one I knew had ever even been there, and if they’d managed it, they’d have never made it back in their lifetime. I couldn’t pronounce the name of the planet, let alone the dish, though after a couple glasses of Inner Dalmatian fire wine, both Manning and I gave it our best shot. Fury was a patient language tutor, but it quickly became apparent that his vocal processors far exceeded our own.

He informed us that we should be able to just make out the Greater Feshun Cloud from the observation deck. That sent us scurrying up for a look-see with the last of the wine in tow.

“I don’t see it,” I said, squinting through the scope.

“You’re just looking in the wrong place.” Manning moved in and hunched over me so that his face was close to mine, making it difficult for me to focus on anything but his wine-scented breath against my nape. “See the red Giant at nine o’clock?” He had shaved for dinner, a first as far as I could recall. He’d always been stubbled with hair slightly mussed, like he’d just gotten out of bed, and not because he’d been asleep. His smooth cheek now brushed mine as though he would guide my face with his. I was good with that.

“Hard to miss,” I managed around my sudden struggle to breathe.

He offered me an evil chuckle and stepped closer until I felt the full heat of his body, startling and intriguing in the hard landscape of muscles that shifted and undulated with the intake of each breath. “Focus on the damn scope, Mac.”

“Oh, like you’re not making any effort to distract me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke. “I take my astronomy very seriously.” He circled my waist with both arms and I let out a little gasp. “Now at five o’clock on the red giant, you’ll see a bright smear, sort of like Fury forgot to clean the windows.”

“I am a ship, not a housekeeper.” Fury commented. “Though there is seldom such a good reason to give the observation deck my full attention.”

“Fury, you’re as bad as Manning.” The words ended with a little gasp, and I felt as though Fury had moved in tight on the other side of me, nudging Manning over just enough to make room for his own embrace, and my neck goose fleshed at his phantom nearness.

“Yes, I see it.” The words came out little more than a harsh whisper. “It’s obvious when you …” I completely lost the ability to speak as Manning settled a warm kiss against my nape. And damn if Fury didn’t mirrored the action. “You really are a full-service ship,” I managed between gasps.

“If he can manipulate the molecules to make your clothes,” Manning’s hand splayed low across my belly stroking the soft fabric of the dress Fury had replicated for our dinner celebration, “then he can easily manipulate the molecules to make you feel really good.”

“It is true,” the ship said. “I am not without skills.” I could swear I felt a third hand sliding up the outside of my thigh to stroke my hip. I caught my breath and shivered with the oral attention being paid to both sides of my neck and throat.

“If you wish me to stop, I will comply,” Fury spoke, and his voice sounded as breathless as my own. “I understand that making love with a ship is not everyone’s kink.”

“I’m a pilot, Fury. Making love with a ship is exactly my kink.”

While it was true, ships – especially the smaller ones with smaller crews — were all programmed to pleasure their compliment during interstellar journeys if the need arose most were nowhere near this sophisticated, not even on the Dubrovnik. I had never been on the receiving end the ship’s pleasure programming. But then I had never been on the receiving end of anything that might be considered lovemaking or pleasurable until tonight.

Manning cupped my breast and ran the edge of his thumb over a peaking nipple while Fury’s attention to my flank became a gentle stroking and curling of fingers that scrunched the dress ever higher up my thigh.

“You seem to be having a hard time standing, Mac. Too much fire wine?”

“We don’t want our Diana Mac injured.” Fury spoke between nips of kisses down my nape and over my collarbone. “Perhaps we should make her more comfortable.”

Together they eased me down onto the carpet in a flurry of kisses and exploring hands, the floor suddenly felt like a soft mattress. That Fury was always seeing to my comfort made my pulse skip a little for reasons other than arousal. With only the dome of the observation deck between us and deep space, it was easy to imagine Manning and Fury as an inseparable unit, to imagine myself as a part of that unit. There were two sets of hands. I felt them as surely as I felt my own breath. One set moved down my shoulders and over my breasts, and the fabric of the dress dissolved beneath the touch as they cupped and caressed. The other impatiently shoved the vanishing hem of the dress aside and teasing my thighs apart, leaving me open, permeable to Fury and Manning, who touched me as though they read each other’s mind, as though they read my mind.

Fury settled beneath me so that my head rested on his lap, then he bent over me and covered my face in kisses, stroking my hair, caressing my shoulders, my neck my breasts. Manning rose above me, and for a brief moment, I could have sworn he leaned forward and took Fury’s mouth in a possessive kiss. Then I blinked and I was once again looking up into deep space with Manning kissing a humid path down between my breasts and over my belly, cupping my bottom in his large hands, opening me, lifting me, positioning me. His breath came in warm little puffs between my thighs, and I cried out and bucked against their gentle restraint. Then Manning found my center and moved down deeper, so much deeper, tasting and licking and caressing me, loving me in places that had known no intimacy, places that had known only brutality. Fury’s full attention turned to my nipples, tongue and teeth and lips stiffening them, and each move I felt down close to Manning’s mouth, as though their well-coordinated efforts were actually no effort at all, but a deep, intuitive knowing, a plan. Manning took me to the edge with his mouth, and Fury sent me over with a quick nibble and pinch of a nipple. Then they held me, whispering softly — things I couldn’t quite hear over my efforts to breathe, over the pleasure that coursed through every cell.

And when I had calmed just a little, Manning mantled me. I had not known when he had shed his clothes, but for a moment, all I could think was that he was beautiful, that I wanted to melt into his body and never leave, never leave either of them. He looked down at me from beneath hooded lids, kneeling over me restraining his erection in one large hand while the other smooth the hair away from my cheek. I reached out for him, took him in my hand and guided him home and we all three gasped as Manning began to move inside me. In my blissed-out state, I could just make out a shadowy humanoid shape like a halo behind him, larger than Manning. Much larger. For a moment, surrendered to Manning as I was, rising up to meet him thrust for thrust, I basked in the watchful gaze, and then Fury embraced Manning, expanded to embrace both of us and returned to himself with a deep sigh, just as I shivered and convulsed my release, with Manning doing the same.

If there was post-coital bliss, it was brief. The urgency of too much time dreading the touch of another human overwhelmed me. The pent-up need of never having more than a few moments stolen trembling against my own hand in what little bit of privacy was afforded me, now released would not easily be sated. I rose on one elbow and looked down at Manning, naked and dozing next to me, haloed in light that was Fury making sure we wouldn’t wake up in total darkness.

Manning was lean yet well muscled and nearly hairless except for the nest of soft curls in which his heavy penis nestled, stretched against the rise and fall of his lower belly. His nipples were pale pink and tight in Fury’s glow, and the slow in and out of his breath matched my own exquisitely. I leaned down and kissed his nipples in turn. He sighed and lifted an arm, as though it took tremendous effort, and curled fingers into my mussed hair.

“I always imagined you’d be insatiable, Mac.” His words were slurred, but I knew perfectly well it wasn’t from alcohol. “Jesus, you have no idea how often I speculated on just how insatiable you would be.”

“Pretty sure I do, actually,” I said, kissing the place where his ribs came together above the diaphragm. But the truth was, I never imagined that Richard, Bad Boy, Manning, who could have any woman he wanted and a good few men as well, would ever think twice about a lowly indentured, other than the possible turn-on of slumming. I slid my palm over the flat of his belly and he sucked in a deep breath as I bent to kiss his navel. He tightened fingers convulsively in my hair as I kissed down over his hip and onto his thigh, licking the taste of clean male perspiration from the muscles that tensed and relaxed beneath my teeth and tongue. “You spoke to me as though I mattered,” I said, running my tongue down over the hard bone of his shin, feeling his body shift against the floor as I worked my way down and lifted his ankle in my hand to kiss his instep. “As much as I wanted to know what it felt like to make love to you, what I wanted, what I needed more, was exactly what you always gave me. You always made me fee like I mattered.” He gave a wordless murmur as I nipped his big toe and then opened his leg so that I could see the weight of his sac, the under curve of his buttocks and its clench as I worked my way up the inside of his thigh. “To belong to you and Fury,” I cupped him gently, and he sighed. “To belong to you and Fury is no hardship.”

Then I knelt there between his thighs and took him into my mouth, tensing a little at the thought, but losing myself quickly in the act as the taste of him and me together flooded my mouth.

He groaned and drew his knees up so that his feet rested on the floor to either side of me. Then he held very still, letting me get used to the act I had never before performed for the pleasure of someone I cared for, letting me find my pace.

“Jesus, Mac,” he managed between barely parted lips. “You’ve always belonged with us. We just had to find a way to make it happen.” Then he went non-verbal as I became more confident, more sure of my ability to give Manning pleasure. Then he began to push back, to thrust and shift as he needed, as though it were a dance we did.

With a little moan of surprise, I realized that Fury had joined us. From behind, he fingered and caressed me open, still wet from Manning, and then the caressing gave way to positioning, as he cupped my ass and scooted forward until I could feel muscular thighs. I lifted my hips and held my breath. Manning, anticipating what was about to happen, stopped moving. Fury stilled behind me.

“Are you sure, Diana Mac?” I felt the warmth of the breath he didn’t really need against my spine. “It will not be like anything you could easily imagine.”

“I’m sure Fury. Very sure.” I reached behind me to caress a muscular hip.

 

 

The act of penetration was such a humanoid thing, and it was easy to sense the humanoid shape behind me, the penis that parted me and entered my body, the hands that pulled me closer, then sought to heighten my pleasure, but the connection was so much more. One thrust and then another, and I cried out feeling as though every circuit, every fiber optic, ever micro capacitor onboard the ship suddenly ran through me. In an instant every micrometer that was Fury filled my body. I could see and feel it all, the cold caress of deep space, the complex hum of the life support, the autopilot constantly checking and rechecking our course, the shields, the computers, the probes the telemetry, the connection between Manning and Fury. At the instant we all climaxed together I realized something that in my heart, surely I must have expected from the beginning. Fury was sentient. Fury was an SNT!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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