Evanne Lorraine
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Camille’s Capture

Cami 500x750

 
Blurb:

Camille, a plump, sweet-natured breeder, is caught in New Eden’s endless war with Baldor. Her mates, Jaxon and Aegis, need cunning and courage to rescue her. They need a miracle to capture her heart.

Warning: This story contains two searing hot alpha males and a sweet, but very determined and lushly curved woman. There’s also plenty of violence, red-hot sex, alien naked naughty bits, male/male intimacy and multiple partner interludes.
Excerpt:

Before Camille had a chance to lose her nerve, a shiny bronze android rolled out to greet her. “This way, miss.” The mechanical voice directed her to a scanner inside the cool foyer. The ornate entry was even grander than the embassy’s.

As soon as her right iris was scanned and passed inspection, the droid herded her along, ushering her into a vast inner chamber. The room was big enough to house an intergalactic ship, perhaps more than one.

The walls appeared to be made of some seamless white rock. The ceiling, four times the height of a towering warrior, framed an elaborate mural depicting the Sirius Galaxy. Mythical gods of war glowered at her from the four corners. Gold script in an ancient tongue bordered the edge of the giant painting.

She caught a glimpse of a raised dais and a couple bowing to an elder before she joined the line of waiting women. The native women were stunning, slender, and almost as tall as their men. When she looked ahead, all she saw were backs.

Graceful backsides swayed and angled as the women in front of her craned for a better view of the ceremonies. All of them wore elegant white gowns. Some were frothy, some severe, and some elaborately decorated. Only she wore the formal robes of a Bon Sorority breeder.
Under her elaborate costume, her new tattoo itched.

Hushed conversations mixed with nervous laughter as the other women chatted. Their teasing familiarity reinforced the fact that she was the alien — a short Earth woman dressed in strange handcrafted robes among the exotic natives, far from home and very alone. Sorority disciples had embroidered her robes with loving care, spending hours on working in the ancient fertility charms. She stretched her spine and lifted her chin, making every millimeter of her height count in order to carry the formal robes with pride.

On the opposite side of the vast room, a long line of warriors matched the column of women. Some wore dress uniforms, others dark, formal robes. She darted curious peeks at them. It was the first time she’d gotten more than a glimpse of an actual man. Holograms hadn’t done them justice. Dear goddess, they were big, very big, and even fiercer than she’d imagined.

Her courage faltered, but she stiffened her spine. She was a Bon Sorority breeder. These warriors had viable seed. Nothing, especially not her own case of foolish nerves, was going to keep her from fulfilling her destiny to reproduce. She longed for a babe of her own to love, but there was more at stake. The sorority needed males to ensure the survival of their race.

Every few minutes the lines surged forward as another couple met, made their vows, and received their sanctioned mating marks. With each step closer to the ceremony, her knees seemed to dissolve a little more until they felt like water.

And with each step closer to the mating ceremony, her plan to return to Earth once pregnant seemed more foolishly optimistic. Every warrior in the chamber looked ready and able to defend his mate. The little she’d learned of warriors had taught her they were prone to violence and fanatically protective of their mates and babes.

She knew nothing about either of the warriors she’d been matched with, but she wasn’t enough of an optimist to believe they’d be radically different from the rest of New Eden’s men.

Younglings were adored on this alien world, especially by their fierce warrior fathers. She couldn’t imagine one of these males agreeing to her leaving for Earth with his babe. How could she break a man’s heart by stealing his child? Even if the youngling was half hers, abducting the babe didn’t seem right.

With a start she realized the line had ended. She stood alone.

Around her, happy couples neared and retreated in a dance of anticipation. Feminine voices blended with deeper male tones. Dozens of different fragrances, including her own clammy perspiration, added to her queasiness.

All the pairings were one man with one woman. Why then was she matched to two warriors? Was her mating notice a tragic mistake? Gathering her ebbing courage, she crossed to the dais on shaky legs, grateful for the stiff skirts and the heavy veil masking her terror.

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