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It’s out! First Mataras: Irene has been unleashed. Are youready to rock with this incredible singer and the band of musical misfits she’sfound? Read on for Chapter One:

 

Applause washed over Irene Jonson, awarm tide she basked in. She dipped a curtsey and bowed her head, then joinedthe ensemble cast at the rear of the stage. She clapped as Fausto andValentina, the show’s leads, swept in from opposite sides to accept theirwell-earned accolades.

Fausto Casello, known to his ardentfans merely as Fausto, beamed at the various aliens who stood to cheer him. Anaccomplished tenor, he was known even in the far reaches of the galaxy. Hisfame and his insistence he be allowed to tour had sent the opera companythroughout the territories of the Galactic Council of Planets’ membershipdespite Earth’s tendency toward isolationism. Fausto was on a mission to spreadhuman opera as a gesture of goodwill to the myriad species Earth courted asallies. The government and Church had been bent to his arguments, desperate tobe allowed to colonize planets to house Earth’s ever-growing population.

At his side, Valentina De León acceptedpraise, hers the regal benevolence of a queen. She was an hourglass in red nextto Fausto’s barrel torso, a haughty beauty with black hair and flashing eyes.She’d been in top form for their performance, and Irene joined in giving herdue applause. When Valentina was on form, no better soprano could be foundanywhere.

Irene and the rest of the company weretaking their final bows before leaving the spotlight to its stars to becelebrated on their own, when a complement of the group’s security andchaperones spilled onto the stage. James Donald, head of the tour’s security,barked, “Clear the stage immediately! For your safety, the cast must move tothe backstage area now.”

The applause died. The audience lookedat each other and muttered, many looking fairly alarmed. Irene caught a glimpseof Fausto’s face, blistered red, before her chaperone appeared at her side andgrabbed her upper arm. Dolores pulled…she nearly yanked…Irene to the wings.“Come quickly. Kalquorians are present, and I want you out of sight.”

Irene snorted, but softly. She hadintentions to wander the clubs later that night. She needed to keep Dolores, aformer nun and current emissary of the Church, from keeping too close an eye onher. They joined the crush of cast, chaperones, and security leaving the stage.

Behind Irene, Fausto’s voice boomed.“Do not fear, esteemed patrons! We will be onstage again tomorrow night withoutfail, ready to thrill you with another performance. Thank you, and goodnight!”

Backstage, his hearty warmth becamefiery rage as he shouted at Donald, spittle dotting his dark beard like gems.“How dare you desecrate the boards with your foolishness!”

“A group of Kalquorians—”

“Kalquorians, bah! They are nothing inthe hallowed halls of opera. Have you no respect for the genius of Regio’swork? For the hours we rehearsed to perfect this singular piece of art? For theeffort I put into this successful performance? No one disrespectsFausto! Allow me to change into clothes in which I can swing my fists, and I’llteach you better manners, sir.”

Few paid the pair any mind. Fausto’stantrums, though boisterous, were rarely of any consequence. He was obeyed andcoddled because of his millions of rabid fans, rather than his temper. Even theChurch was careful about crossing him.

Dolores was among the minority whowatched Fausto pitch a fit, her thin lips compressed in disapproval. “The manhas no shame. I hope Mr. Donald puts him in his place for once.”

Irene managed to keep her eyes fromrolling. Fausto was Fausto. He had his fair share of ego and wasn’t afraid touse his fame and charm to get what he wanted…and plenty of it. He was alsosensitive under the bluster, a big gooey marshmallow who wept easily atanother’s pain.

Valentina took no notice of hercostar’s histrionics. She strutted past the gesticulating Fausto and patientDonald to strut up to Irene, her chaperone Rosalie a couple of paces behind.“What do you think, girl? If I’d been allowed to take my bows, I would havebeen called back three times. Do you doubt I was born to play Esther?”

“Not at all. You were brilliant. Theaudience love you.”

Valentina swelled with pride. She gazedup at Irene’s superior six feet as if she’d scored a major triumph. “They did.For aliens, they know talent. You did well too,” she added as a grudgingafterthought.

“Thank you.”

“But you are no Queen Esther! Someday,perhaps, but not yet. Probably not for some time.” Valentina’s eyes glitteredas she dared Irene to refute her.

Irene quelled the urge to point out therole of Queen Esther called for a woman much older than her twenty-seven years,but it would have been cruel to do so. On the cusp of forty, Valentina washardly old, but she wasn’t taking her upcoming birthday well. It didn’t helpher performances were inconsistent, her singing and acting only as good as hermood. Fausto had included her in the touring company out of loyalty…they’dperformed together nearly two decades. Why he’d promised her two-thirds of theleading lady roles, Irene couldn’t quite understand. When they’d performedexclusively in New York, Irene had been tapped to play lead more often than thetalented but tempestuous Valentina.

Irene felt no need to play upon hercastmate’s fragile esteem. Especially tonight. She smiled. “You didn’t playEsther. You were Esther.”

Valentina deflated a little. High on aflawless performance, she was eager to remind her young up-and-comingcompetition how good she was. Irene had denied her the opportunity. She wasforced to nod graciously and mutter, “Thank you.” An awkward beat later, sheswept to the clustered males of the chorus to receive their accolades.

“As the Book says, pride goeth before afall,” Dolores muttered. “Mark my words, Valentina will fall far when God isdone with her.”

Irene was tempted to correct the formernun’s quotation, which actually read “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughtyspirit before a fall.” Knowing it would open a different can of worms kept hersilent.

“I’ll check the dressing room and see how crowded it is,” she told herchaperone.

“Judging from how few of the women are here, it’s probably bursting at theseams.” Dolores cast a sour eye at the half dozen young actresses remaining inthe main area, vastly outnumbered by men. Judgment was etched on every line ofher pudgy face despite the fact each woman was accompanied by either a husbandor a chaperone.

Irene nodded toward Meg, a diminutive member of the chorus. The luckygirl’s mother was an assistant seamstress to the wardrobe department andfunctioned as her chaperone. The pair shared quarters near Irene’s. “It may bea while before I can change, and you’ve had a long day. Why don’t I walk to myroom with Meg and Mrs. Hoffman, and you can turn in early?”

The relief in Dolores’ gaze was unmistakable. Irene was no more than anassignment to her. The cheerless chaperone was untouched by opera, thinking ita den of sin despite the fact only biblical subject matter was performed. Shedisapproved of those who performed it, and outright despised the flirtatiousFausto and temperamental Valentina.

Irene had been careful to give Dolores no reason to suspect her ofindecorous activity during the year the company had been off Earth. Hersporadic illicit forays, which had begun six months after leaving their homeplanet, had been meticulously planned and rarely indulged.

The complacency she’d infused in her chaperone was evident as Doloreshesitated a mere beat before heading to the door at the back of the room. “I’llcom you in half an hour to verify you made it to your quarters.”

“Goodnight, Dolores.” Irene was granted a lazy wave. Her chaperone mighthave thought her the least troublesome of the opera company, but she remaineddisdainful.

No matter. Irene had cleared the first hurdle to what she hoped would be afun night out on the town…or rather, the Beonid space station.

She retreated to the corner to sit andwait, making herself as invisible as possible as she perched on a chair. Itwasn’t an easy feat. Not quite six-feet-one, she towered over many, includingher male castmates. In her early years of performing, she’d often been passedover for leading roles because a number of male stars disliked being cast witha taller woman.

Then Fausto had joined the company inNew York City. Over six feet tall himself and possessing a presence that tendedto render even Valentina invisible at times, he’d been delighted to have Irenecast opposite him. Thanks to his approval, Irene had finally come into her own.A critic had called her the perfect balance to Fausto’s sensational bombast.She had the stature to command attention when they shared a stage. His gorgeousvocals and her ringing angelic soprano complimented perfectly, never competingbut melding in what another critic had called, “the very music of heavenitself.”

Irene was no shrinking flower, and sheknew many considered her appearance arresting at the least, beautiful to some.She’d been described as an Amazon; “veering too close to manly for comfort”according to one detractor. Fortunately, the larger-than-life personalities ofFausto and Valentina allowed her to escape some notice when she wished.

As a dozen lucky fans who’d attendedthe show filtered to the backstage area to meet and chat with the performers,she thought she might be fortunate enough to slip in the women’s dressing roomin the next few minutes. At least half the female members of the company hademerged in their street clothes, and the rest would follow soon.

Cries suddenly rang out. Everyone’sattention swung toward the door leading to the stage, and Irene stood to seewhat the excitement was about. Security was trying to push their way throughthe cast to reach the area, and a number of chaperones were pulling theirwide-eyed female charges in the opposite direction.

“No Kalquorians!” Donald shouted overthe excited hubbub.

Irene looked over the heads of thecrowd to spy three men taller than herself standing just in the doorway. Shegaped at the sight.

The brown-skinned alien race similar toEarthers weren’t merely towering. They were also solid walls of muscle. Theirshoulders, which were visible above those between them and Irene, were wide andbulging in black sleeveless uniforms.

They weren’t bad looking, she decided.They were a long way from the somewhat sexless beauty of male models and actorssporting the current trending look on Earth, what with their strong jaws andpronounced bone structures. Unfashionably masculine would have probably beenthe verdict of most humans, but Irene appreciated their size and appearance ofstrength. Their shoulder-length black hair, which would have garnered horror onEarth, did nothing to feminize their powerful looks.

They stared down at Donald in confusionas he ordered them out. Irene wondered if they understood English. Even if theydidn’t, his expression declared they weren’t welcome.

Fausto’s booming voice rang over the securityhead’s chant of “Leave! Out! Leave! Out!” The crowd separating him from theKalquorians parted to let him through.

“For shame, Mr. Donald. Ourperformances are for all as Earth’s goodwill gesture to our fellow members ofthe Galactic Council,” Fausto proclaimed. “These are the exact people we wishto build bridges with. Welcome, honored guests, and you are greatly welcome ifyou enjoy the only music worth hearing, opera.”

As he reached the aliens, they bowed tohim. Fausto’s round face beamed in delight, and he grasped the hand of theclosest of them, whose uniform was trimmed in blue. He shook the Kalquorian’shand heartily, who eyed their joined palms in fascination.

“A delight to make your acquaintance,sirs. How did you find our show? Was it enjoyable?”

A resonant deep voice Irene swore shecould feel in her bones filled the silent and expectant air. “We wereimpressed. A very good story. Excellent singing. I am sorry I can’t say better,but I have too little of your language.”

“Ah, but you have more of mine than Ido of yours, and what you have, you speak splendidly. Whom do I have thepleasure of addressing?”

“Dramok Nil. I am captain of shiptaking leave of our patrol.” The Kalquorian’s smile was pleasant. “My shipmatesand clanmates, Nobek Amig and Imdiko Ginef.” The men in red and green-trimmeduniforms offered second bows.

“A delight, gentlemen. Please, do comein and meet our cast.” Ignoring the dismayed expressions of security andchaperones, as well as Donald’s outright anger, Fausto slung an arm aroundCaptain Nil and urged him further in the room. “Here we have Mark, who playedCyrus. This is John, in the role of Lucas.”

The chaperones were pushing the womento the door to leave the theater. Irene wondered if they actually expected theKalquorians to turn into the lust-crazed monsters Earth insisted they were andstart grabbing every female in sight to rut. She noted Meg and her mother wererooted to their spots, gawking in fascination.

The aliens’ smiles were relentlesslypolite. The one in the green-trimmed uniform appeared a little sad to notefrightened women fleeing, as if it upset him to be an object of terror. Themost brutish of the trio, sporting a scar on his jaw and wearing red-trimmedblack, eyed everyone as if they might suddenly spring on him.

“Fausto—” Donald darted glances at hissecurity team, as if searching for support.

Fausto reached Meg and Mrs. Hoffman.“Ah, a lovely member of our dance corp. This is Meg, the sweetest of our girls.You know what I mean?” He laughed and winked and hugged the pink-cheekeddancer.

“What you mean? Do tell us what youmean, Fausto.” Valentina’s voice rose to a near screech as she stormed towardhim, halting the Kalquorians in polite mid-bow. Mrs. Hoffman wisely grabbed Megas Fausto released her and hustled her to the back door…but she fluttered herfingers and dared a slight smile at the Kalquorians before disappearing.

“Ah, right on cue! My adored leadinglady, Valentina.” Fausto’s smile was dazzling, as if Valentina didn’t look onthe verge of clawing his eyes out.

Another source of Valentina’s frequentoutbursts of temper: her unrequited and phenomenally jealous love for Fausto.She unleashed a string of hectic Spanish, her arms flailing as she read thechuckling Fausto the riot act.

Irene abruptly realized the drama ofthe Kalquorians in their midst was the perfect cover for her to make herescape. She slipped along the edges of the crowd to reach the dressing room,watching for anyone to note her exit. The sole gazes that swung her way werethose of the blue- and red-trim-wearing Kalquorians. She ignored the nervousbubbling of her stomach at those sharp stares set in rather ruthless faces andhurried to the dressing area.

She nearly bumped into Emma Jones, whowas in charge of wardrobe. Emma was well within the confines of the dressingroom, but positioned so she could peer through the doorway and watch thebackstage goings-on. Middle-aged, with her own flare for fashion and thedramatic, she grabbed Irene’s arm as if to steady herself.

“Look at the size of them. Such big,big men. Have you ever seen so many muscles? Oh, Fausto will hear it from theChurch now, welcoming them here in the presence of all these women.”

“Most have run out. Besides, you knowFausto is nearly untouchable.”

“Meg isn’t, but she was able to get soclose. Lucky girl…but unlucky to have Mr. Donald witness it.”

“She did nothing wrong. Fausto willprotect her, as he protects all of us.” Although Irene often worried he’deventually put the whole troupe in danger with his flirtations. Fausto, whodespite his rumored illegal sexual affairs, maintained a close relationship tothe head bishop in New York. Maybe introducing Meg to the Kalquorians was astep too far.

Earth’s Church-run government despisedKalquor with a vengeance. Fausto had said it was because Kalquor was in dangerof going extinct. They’d approached Earth officials to ask for fertile women totest the possibility of crossbreeding and saving their society. The repressiveChurch had declared the notion an abomination. It had at once broken alldiplomatic ties with Kalquor and forbidden its people to have any dealings withthe alien race.

“Watch the door for me, Emma?” Ireneeased from her clutches.

“A night out? Of course, though I can’timagine you finding more excitement than being visited by Kalquoriansbackstage. They are…not handsome, but very, very interesting.” She licked herlips.

“Thanks.” Irene hurried on to thewardrobe racks.

Her disguise was hidden among thecostumes too far gone to be salvaged. Stained, ripped, or from bannedproductions, they awaited their fates to be repurposed. Only Emma and Mrs.Hoffman paid any mind to the damaged rack, and they could be trusted.

Irene slid between the damages and therack of costumes to be cleaned, wrinkling her nose at the various sweat scentsfrom performing under the bright lights. She was probably a bit ripe herself,but it would aid her purposes for the night. She’d shower when she returned toher quarters, as most the cast preferred to do. The water in the theater’sshowers often ran cold and had an unpleasant odor.

Irene located the brown cloak she’dfound in a rummage shop on Dantovon. She’d discovered it shortly before they’dcontracted for a year’s run on the unnamed Beonid station, where they performedfive out of the nine nights of the host species’ week. The cloak was lengthyenough to be a tripping hazard. Had she not also found the thick-soled bootsknown to belong to the Odeerga race, she’d have had to hem it.

She hung her costume robes were hung onthe laundry rack. She swiftly donned her own knee-length dress, the concealingcloak that closed to mid-thigh, and the boots. Fabric had been stuffed in theirtoes to help them fit Irene. The last item she put on came from a nearby shelf:an Odeergan breathing headpiece, its mirrored visor concealing her brown eyesfrom view. The mask was a clunky affair, extending from the bridge of her nosein an oblong snout, which sported a grated round end in which its previousowner would have inserted a filter. It hadn’t been made for a human head andwas slightly loose on her skull, but the cloak’s hood disguised the ill fit.

Clutching her com in a gloved hand kepthidden in her roomy sleeve, Irene gave herself the once-over in the nearbymirror. She saw no sign of any human attributes, the voluminous cloak hidingher curvaceous figure. She was ready to roam free on the station minus achaperone, able to visit any of its attractions without fear of reprisals.

She glanced in Emma’s direction. Herfriend was still watching whatever lay beyond the door, so Irene guessed theKalquorians hadn’t left yet. She was curious about them, but she was twice aseager for the sights and sounds beyond Earth’s iron reach. Irene exited throughthe door at the rear of the dressing room and began her night of blessedliberty.

The dressing room’s door opened to aservice corridor, but it was a short walk to one of the station’s majorconcourses. In less than a minute, she was in the midst of a breathtakingnumber of the galaxy’s myriad species. Beings seethed in the popular station’smetal-sheened environs. They walked, glided, flew, crawled, and hopped; a massof impossibly varied life in all its expected and unlikely forms.

They gave Irene a wide berth as shewalked among them. She’d adopted the hunch-shouldered, slithering gait of anOdeergan. The examples she’d studied on vids always appeared to be trying tosneak up on someone, but it was their normal way of walking. It was no doubtdisconcerting to the majority of species, who were determined to avoid closecontact with the typically shunned race.

The headpiece Irene wore, with itsfiltered breathing apparatus, hadn’t been designed to protect its intendedwearer. It was meant to protect others from it. Odeergans exuded poison at eachexhale, and they’d been known to use it against those who’d offended them.Everyone was well aware how easily those headpieces could be whipped off by anirate Odeergan.

For an Earther female of tall staturewho wanted to avoid close contact and explore unopposed and unrecognized, itwas the perfect disguise. Irene had proven it so in the past six months.

She reveled in her liberty as she wanderedthe long concourse of shops, restaurants, and entertainments. She’d notindulged overmuch in her ability to disappear in plain sight, so she’d onlybeen to a third of the music venues available to explore on the vast station.Hearing the varied expressions of musical arts from the various worlds was hersecret pleasure and obsession. Beonid’s station was famed for attracting actsfrom throughout the galaxy. Irene was determined to sample them all, whetherthey were performed by acclaimed professionals or barely-rehearsed amateurs.

Though she’d already visited thePlasian club Mellossin, she paused outside its doors as the soaring tones of auferliss emerged. Goosebumps covered her hidden skin at the sweet trill thatwove a hypnotic tune. Irene loved Plasian music, which often employed suchgorgeous notes with an electronic edge. Unfortunately, the Church had deemed ittoo seductive. To be caught listening to it would launch an interrogation. AnyEarther who hadn’t hidden in a cave their entire life knew interrogationwas a euphonism for torture.

Irene listened until the song ended.She was tempted to go in and spend the precious couple of hours she’d allottedbasking in more, but there was so much to explore. Feeling real regret, shemoved on.

She’d just reached a stretch of venuesshe hadn’t visited before when her com went off. Irene immediately veered to anentrance to the service corridor. When the doors shut behind her and she’dverified she had the quiet hall to herself, she shoved the headpiece off herface. Affecting a tired tone, she answered, “Yes?”

Dolores’ voice was slightly slurred.She’d started in on the brandy early, which afforded Irene relief. “Justchecking in, Miss Jonson.”

“Thank you. I’ve returned to myquarters and was waiting for your com before showering.” Irene debated andadded, “You missed some excitement.”

“Oh?” There was no interest. Irenecould practically hear her thinking, say goodnight and let me get back to mybottle.

“The Kalquorians came backstage.”

“What? What happened? Did they harmanyone?”

“No. I believe Fausto had them well inhand when Mrs. Hoffman, Meg, and I rushed out, but we didn’t linger to learnmore.”

“Fausto? Where was Mr. Donald?”

“Yelling at them to leave. I can’t tellyou anything beyond that since I left so quickly.”

“Thank heavens you did.” She paused,possibly wondering if she should hear the story in greater detail. She musthave been well in her cups, because she finally added, “I suppose we’ll hearthe details tomorrow.”

“No doubt. Well, I’m off to shower ifthat’s all?”

“I suppose. What did they look like?Did they really have horns?”

Irene bit her lips together to keepfrom braying laughter. When she had control over the burst of humor, she said,“I didn’t notice horns, but I felt it best to get out quickly, so I can’t saythey weren’t there. All I saw were huge men with brown skin and long blackhair.”

And muscles for days. Irene hadappreciated those muscles, but she wasn’t about to share such information withDolores.

“Huge? They sound terrifying. Verywell…I trust we won’t make a big deal of me leaving early? You were with Mrs.Hoffman and came to no harm…”

Irene smirked at the sudden nervousturn. “Oh, I believe I was perfectly safe. If no one else volunteersinformation, I certainly won’t.”

Especially when it came to theinappropriate notice Fausto had drawn toward Meg, who’d pay a higher price thanhe would. Irene’s humor was doused in icy concern. She hoped the fact theKalquorians had gained access to backstage on Donald’s watch would keep everyone,chaperones and security most especially, quiet where Meg was concerned.

Fausto had confided to Irene he had ahead full of secrets on each member of the company’s entourage, specificallyfor the purpose of keeping them from reporting to Earth authorities anyill-advised “mistakes” committed by the cast and crew. He was adamant he’dprotect those he’d handpicked to leave Earth in his company.

Her stomach began to unknot as Doloresreturned to her usual cold tone. “If it’s kept quiet, we can forget the entirematter. Goodnight, Miss Jonson.”

“Goodnight.”

Check-in done, Irene dropped her com inthe cloak’s pocket. She drew a breath, reminded herself Fausto was damned nearuntouchable, and pulled the headgear in place. She returned to the concourseand its swirl of late-night denizens.

She wandered, her attention sharpenedas she approached each club offering musical acts. Beonid, Alneusian, Adraf,Joshadan, Salenxa, Tratsod, Bi’isil, Kitleg; melodious, cacophonic, soft.Single instruments, a cappella singers, ensembles the size of symphonies…eachsociety proved music was the great link of civilizations, no matter howdisparate they might be.

She’d heard much of what swirled to theconcourse before, and she entered those venues featuring songs appealing toher, enjoyed a few minutes, and moved on. It was a soundscape of beauty andwonder. Even the discordant noises claiming to be music were granted a fairhearing if the performers appeared to be in earnest. Irene envisioned takingthe best of what she heard and somehow combining it in a harmonious whole. Sheknew a single piece of music pleasing everyone was an impossibility and shewelcomed the individuality of expression, but it was still fun to wonder whatthe perfect species-spanning tune might sound like.

It was closing in on time for her toretreat to her quarters when she spotted a knot of big, black-uniformedKalquorians congregating in front of a club. Dressed as the captain and hisclan, they were no doubt part of the ship’s crew. For a moment, Ireneconsidered heading to her temporary home and avoiding them altogether.Curiosity about what appealed to the species that had earned Earth’s wrathcalled insistently, however. She detected a bass-heavy throb coming from theclub, and inquisitiveness won out.

Like most, Kalquorians made room forher approach. They noted her without disgust or disdain, merely wariness. Forher part, Irene did her best to saunter casually for an Odeergin, pretendingnot to notice the men who really did resemble humans, size and musclesnotwithstanding.

She drifted beyond the massive men,entered the club, and was walloped.

 

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She searched for freedom and found aKalquorian clan.

Irene Jonson is a rising star in opera, thanks to Earthforcing her to leave her parents as a teen to join a prestigious opera company.Years later, she loves music, but she wants the freedom to forge her own pathas a performer and be reunited with her family.

Sherv, Rusp, and Jemi are a clan and band playing hard,driving music. Success means more than fame and fortune; it would show theirdisapproving families they’ve chosen the lives they were meant to live.Encountering Irene, creating a new and exciting sound, gives them thatopportunity…and a chance at love.

Two worlds on the brink of war threaten everything Irene andClan Sherv have built and everything they dream of. Two worlds are bent onsnatching Irene from the men and music she loves. What chance do four misfitmusicians possibly have against Earth and the Kalquorian Empire?