Authors: Cheryl Brooks
From
Stud
Tarq smelled her before he ever laid eyes on her—a glorious, delectable aroma that curled through his head and shot straight into his bloodstream. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply as the effect of her fragrance hit his cock like a pulse blast, obliterating his every thought with the instantaneous ecstasy of an erection so hard it made his head swim.
He glanced away from his menu, taking in the shape of her legs out of the corner of his eye—what he could see of them, that is. Her baggy trousers and apron concealed everything about her legs except the fact that she had two of them.
“Hi, my name is Lucy, and I’ll be your server,” she said. “Do you already know what you’d like, or do you need more time?”
Tarq smiled to himself as he shook his head. No, he didn’t need more time. He knew exactly what he wanted. “You,” he replied. “I’d like a full order of
you
.”
“I-I beg your pardon?” she stammered.
He could hear the words catch in her throat and hoped he’d just done the same thing to her that she’d done to him. She was human—he could tell that much from her voice—but a human female who didn’t mask her natural scent with heavy perfumes was rare. Tarq could never understand why they did that, but then, humans weren’t the dedicated scent breeders that Zetithians were. It didn’t matter what a woman looked like; if she didn’t smell right, his cock was going nowhere.
This woman, however, wasn’t hiding her scent and it assailed him full force. His mouth filled with saliva at the thought of tasting her—to the point that Tarq had to swallow before he could speak. With one more deep, satisfying breath, he looked up at her.
No, she wasn’t beautiful, but the way she stared down at him, round-eyed and speechless, was enough to make him want to purr. She was young, but not too young to mate with a man of his age. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, though a few soft tendrils had escaped near her temples, accentuating fair skin and round cheeks that needed no artificial enhancements to put a rosy blush on them—though his words might have been responsible.
The expression in her deep brown eyes intrigued him. It was as if she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly and was somewhere between laughter and astonishment. Tarq drank in her appearance just as he had done with her scent. Her nose was dusted with freckles, her dark eyelashes curled enticingly, and, as he watched, her generous mouth finally smiled.
Actually, it was more of a grin. Then, all at once, her face went blank and she recoiled slightly. Her eyes swept from his chest to the roots of his hair, with a darted glance at his features. He knew what she was seeing—blue eyes with catlike pupils, ears that curved to a pointed tip, eyebrows that slanted upward toward his temples, and blond hair that hung in spiral curls to his waist. She wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the shock of recognition was clear; she knew
precisely
who he was and why he was there.
A nervous giggle escaped her. “Do you want to hear today’s specials?”
Tarq shook his head and smiled, drawing her attention to his fangs as he slowly licked his lips. “What would you recommend?”
Swallowing hard, she blurted out, “The fish.”
Nodding, Tarq exhaled with a loud purr. “Then I’ll have the fish.” Shifting his weight, he leaned back, shaking the hair back from his face. His dick was starting to hurt and his balls were tingling like crazy. It had been three days since he’d had a woman. One more whiff of her and he’d probably lose all control.
She tapped his order into her notepad. Without looking up, she went on, “Baked, broiled, or grilled?”
“How do
you
like it, Lucy?” Tarq put as much seductive emphasis into those words as he possibly could—a question he’d asked countless women, but in a far different situation.
Still not taking her eyes off the pad, she said, “Um… grilled.”
“Then I’ll have it grilled.” Tarq let his own eyes roam over her round hips, ample breasts, and capable hands. She looked every bit as luscious as she smelled. A woman like that had to be mated already. Then he remembered the human custom of wearing rings on their left hand. He could see both of her hands clearly; there were no rings on either of them, but they were shaking.
“You get two sides with that.” There was a tremor in her voice; Tarq knew he was making her nervous, which was the very last thing he wanted to do. He wanted her relaxed and receptive.
“Why don’t you choose for me?” he suggested. “I don’t recognize any of them.”
“How about the Greek salad and eggplant with tomatoes and kalamata olives?”
“That sounds good.”
“And to drink?”
Tarq couldn’t say what he
really
wanted to drink; there were some things you didn’t say to a woman you’d only met a few moments before—unless she was a client, of course. “Water.”
“Anything else?”
Tarq had to bite his lip to keep from saying what was on the tip of his tongue, opting to reply with a shake of his head.
“I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Tarq smiled as he watched her go, her soft moccasins making no sound as she walked away. No wonder she had been able to sneak up on him like that. Tarq had excellent hearing—though his sense of smell was better—and there was nothing wrong with his eyesight, either. He’d lied when he said he didn’t recognize the side dishes; the truth was he couldn’t read the menu.
From
Wildcat
Sara couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. After all, Jerden
was
Zetithian, and though she’d expected his waist-length hair and stunning physique, when he came cantering up on her missing stallion—no bridle, no saddle, no
clothes
—with a black leopard bounding alongside, her breath caught in her throat. Ordinarily his good looks wouldn’t have mattered to a woman like Sara, but the picture they presented was nothing short of spectacular. Even so, skuzzy Cylopean or Zetithian hunk, Jerden had her horse, and Sara wanted him back.
She’d heard the rumors that Jerden was dangerous, insane, and lived like a hermit in the wilderness. But although her good friend and neighbor Bonnie Dackelov had assured her those rumors were completely unfounded, he
did
look the part, especially with that huge cat shadowing his every move.
Closing her eyes, she gave herself a mental kick for going to his place alone. Bonnie was cute and kind, and Jerden already knew her. She could’ve easily convinced him to part with Danuban, simply by being her pretty little self. Sara was out of her league.
Still, she did have the law on her side and documentation to prove she was the stallion’s owner, giving her a bona fide excuse to finally meet her newest and nearest neighbor without being introduced as a potential love interest. She was there to get a horse that, as part of the carefully overseen equine importation program on the recently colonized planet of Terra Minor, was a very valuable animal.
Black as night, standing sixteen hands high with a long, flowing mane and tail and a high, arched neck, Danuban had a bloodline that could be traced back over a thousand years, and the Andalusian breed itself dated back to Earth’s fourteenth-century Spain. Moving with an elegance few other breeds could match, he looked like something straight out of a romantic fairy tale.
Unfortunately, horses were the only things about those old tales that interested Sara. She had no use for romance and had stopped trying to be charming long ago. It never worked for her. Even as a teen, any time she made the attempt, the boy in question stared at her almost as though another guy had displayed interest—and the only time a male classmate
had
shown interest had backfired on her in a way she still didn’t care to think about, nor had she ever shared that experience with anyone.
She’d heard all about this Jerden—how he used to sell himself in a brothel on Rhylos for a thousand credits per session—and had avoided Bonnie’s attempts to introduce her to him. She had no desire to meet yet another man who wouldn’t give a damn if he ever saw her again.
A
thousand
credits.
A man would have to be awfully good at what he did to charge that much for an hour’s…
work
. Sara didn’t even want think about how much she would have to pay him to look at her twice. She knew there was nothing feminine about her—with the possible exception of an affectionate heart. Unfortunately, only animals seemed to appreciate that quality.
Though Andalusians were characteristically docile and gentle, the long voyage from Earth had left Danuban wild and unmanageable, and he’d broken away from his handlers in Nimbaza before his tracking implant could be placed. Impossible to track, where he’d run off to was a mystery until Bonnie, whose farm lay to the north of Sara’s land, reported that Jerden had acquired another stray.
Which was apparently something else he was good at. She’d heard about the leopard that followed him everywhere, as well as the pack of dogs and domestic cats he’d managed to accumulate in the short time he’d been living on Terra Minor. According to Bonnie, the murder of a woman on Rhylos had affected him so strongly that he’d become a recluse. But though he might have been avoiding people, animals seemed to be welcome, which might explain why Danuban had wound up on his land.
At least he hadn’t ended up on Nathan Wolmack’s ranch. Nate had a decent herd of horses and was one of only two men who’d ever sought her company, but, like the first one, he gave Sara the creeps. Thankfully, his land was even farther north than Bonnie’s, or Sara would have had more visits from him, though she did have to pass by his place on the way to Nimbaza. Rumor had it that he was trying to buy the spread to the east of hers, and Sara prayed that the deal would fall through. The last thing she needed was Nate showing up whenever the spirit moved him.
She’d had no such problems with Jerden, though there were plenty of women in the district who would’ve loved to have a problem like that, and for that matter, quite a few who wouldn’t mind if Nate came sniffing around. Sara would’ve preferred to avoid dealing with either man, but in this instance, she had no choice.
Having parked her dusty speeder in front of Jerden’s rustic lakeshore home, she stood waiting by the porch, taking in the scenery. A picturesque lake stretched out behind the house, mirroring the snowcapped mountains that loomed above it. Open grassland lay to the north, ending where Sara’s fences began. Surrounded by a grove of tall conifers, the ranch-style house was built of logs, with two steps up to a wide veranda where at least six dogs and as many cats lay sleeping, both on and under the chairs that were scattered about. All appeared to be healthy and well-fed, in addition to being surprisingly well-groomed. Two of the dogs got up to greet her with panting smiles and wagging tails, but the rest didn’t bother. The cats didn’t even wake up.
Sara had been confident that her experience with horses would make a difference in Danuban’s unruly behavior, but she couldn’t help envying the way Jerden rode without benefit of bridle or whip. The stallion seemed to do his bidding without question, and he sat on the Andalusian’s broad back as if he’d been born there. With horse whisperers scattered throughout human history, it should have come as no surprise that members of some alien species—such as the Mordrials, some of whom could communicate with animals through telepathic means—might possess the same abilities. Nevertheless, a tingle tightened the back of Sara’s neck as she watched him ride.
But Jerden Morokovitz was a Zetithian, not a Mordrial. The only things his kind were noted for were the occasional prescient vision, their attractive feline characteristics, and, if the reports were correct, sexual abilities that were second to none.
Not that Sara would have been a good judge of anyone’s sexual prowess. Bonnie, on the other hand, was married to Lynx, who was not only Zetithian, but a former harem slave. She could have enlightened Sara, but the fact that Zetith and nearly all of its people had been destroyed at the instigation of one insanely jealous and very powerful man was proof enough. Zetithian males were irresistible, particularly to human women, which was what Sara feared far more than the leopard by Jerden’s side. She had no desire to develop an interest in another man only to be ridiculed or ignored—or even abused.
Determined to keep this meeting friendly, Sara waved at Jerden as he approached. When he dismounted with a catlike grace that many a rider would envy, she saw that her eyes hadn’t been deceiving her. He wasn’t wearing
anything.
Not even a ring or a watch. She reminded herself that her visit was unannounced and that this was
his
land. She couldn’t fault him for his nudity, but his total lack of modesty surprised her. He made no attempt to cover himself, though Sara was at a loss to explain how he would have accomplished this. She doubted he could have done it successfully even if he’d used both hands.
Outcast
by Cheryl Brooks
Sold into slavery in a harem, Lynx is a favorite because his feline gene gives him remarkable sexual powers. But after ten years, Lynx is exhausted and is thrown out of the harem without a penny. Then he meets Bonnie, who’s determined not to let such a beautiful and sensual young man go to waste…
“Leaves the reader eager for the next story featuring these captivating aliens.” —
Romantic Times
“One of the sweetest love stories…one of the hottest heroes ever conceived and…one of the most exciting and adventurous quests that I have ever had the pleasure of reading.” —
Single Titles
“One of the most sensually imaginative books that I’ve ever read… A magical story of hope, love and devotion” —
Yankee Romance Reviews
For more Cheryl Brooks, visit:
Fugitive
by Cheryl Brooks
A mysterious stranger in danger…
Zetithian warrior Manx, a member of a race hunted to near extinction because of their sexual powers, has done all he can to avoid extermination. But when an uncommon woman enters his jungle lair, the animal inside of him demands he risk it all to have her.
The last thing Drusilla expected to find on vacation was a gorgeous man hiding in the jungle. But what is he running from? And why does she feel so mesmerized that she’ll stop at nothing to be near him? Hypnotically attracted, their intense pleasure in each other could destroy them both.
Praise for The Cat Star Chronicles:
“Wow. The romantic chemistry is as close to perfect as you’ll find.” —
BookFetish.org
“Fabulous off world adventures… Hold on ladies, hot Zetithians are on their way.” —
Night Owl Romance
“Insanely creative… I enjoy this author’s voice immensely.” —
The Ginger Kids Den of Iniquity
“I think purring will be on my request list from now on.” —
Romance Reader at Heart
For more Cheryl Brooks, visit: