#SFRMonday: So HOT, you’ll want to steal him, too ~ STEALING MERCURY by @CharleeAllden #scifirom
You may know her from the blog, SMART GIRLS LOVE SCI-FI AND PARANORMAL ROMANCE, but today, Charlee Allden is here as an author. Check out her new release, STEALING MERCURY!
STEALING MERCURY
by Charlee Allden
Born a slave, Mercury is an Arena Dog, genetically engineered to fight and die in the Arena for the entertainment of others. Trained as a gladiator from boyhood, he’s gathered and led one of the most successful teams in arena history. In their violent world, where men must form alliances and share what little bounty they have to survive, his only goal has been to keep his men alive. But two of his men are dead and he, Diablo and Carnage are condemned to be hunted down and killed in Arena’s newest inhuman sport. Worse, their demise will leave Carn’s mate, a woman Mercury has sworn to protect, alone and vulnerable. And then there is Samantha—a courageous human he has no right to claim. But she is his. He feels it deep in his soul and with an ache in his body he can’t deny.
Samantha Devlin is a down-on-her-luck indie-freight pilot, working in the belly of a corporate hauler until she can earn the credits for her own ship. When an old friend hires her as an emergency replacement to pilot a cargo carrier for the Roma Company, she’s shocked to learn her cargo is three, living, breathing, and dangerously sexy Arena Dogs. When Samantha learns she’s taking the men to their deaths, she must decide is she if willing to risking everything for a man whose customs require that he share her with one of his men and demands he return to Roma to protect another woman. Her heart tells her Mercury is worth any cost, but her head sees nothing ahead but disaster.
Caution: features two scorching hot heroes and one impossibly impulsive woman. Their story may just make you want to steal an Arena Dog or two of your own.
Available from:
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Another howl echoed in the hollow space of the hangar. At the far end, a loading crew in red Roma jumpsuits maneuvered three large cages across the dull gray floor plating and into position alongside the courier ship. The hangar lighting glinted off the crude metal prisons that looked more like low-tech jail cells than animal containment crates.
Arena Dogs.
That’s what the news vids had called them. But her scan of the news feeds hadn’t prepared her. They hadn’t actually included vid of the gladiators known as the fighting Dogs of the RomaRex Arena.
She couldn’t see them well from across the hangar, but she could clearly see they were men. Men locked in cages and shipped as freight.
A new ache started in her chest. They were men and they were her cargo. Living, breathing, cargo. Bronze chests left bare, dark hair past their shoulders, heads thrown back, the thick columns of their throats working to make those haunting howls.
“They’re out of sorts today. Their handler says they’re melancholy over being separated from their mate, but I’m not convinced.” Owens spoke from near her shoulder. He’d shifted to stand at her side, looking over the hangar like a feudal lord surveying his land.
“Their mate?”
He chuckled again, a sound she was coming to despise. “They have this odd practice of sharing their females. They have quite a complex social structure. We weren’t expecting it from this mix of DNA, but…”
Samantha didn’t follow any of what came after sharing their females. That thought stopped her overwhelmed brain. Her head wanted her to be appalled, and she was appalled that he talked about them as if they were nothing more than animals, or a science experiment, but her reaction to what he was saying could be more aptly described as…fascination. Fascination and guilt. While she stood there captivated by the raw emotion in their howls, they were imprisoned and suffering.
Her stomach churned and she knew she was in over her head. She wanted to ask why Roma was calling the men Dogs. Why they’d put them in cages. Why the men with her weren’t freaked out by the howling that was scraping her insides raw.
By the time her brain re-engaged, Owens had gone and Sevti was leading her toward the cages.
The weight of his hand on the center of her back urged her forward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to prepare you more. Even scrambled messages are risky.”
“Messages are risky,” she hissed. “What part of this isn’t risky?” She knew her outrage at the whole situation was bleeding into her voice and they needed to keep quiet, but she’d heard the change in his tone. His earlier calm had been icing over a sticky, stressed center.
“They’re slaves, Samantha. We’re helping them get to freedom.”
“I know the Alliance denies citizenship to the non-earth races, but slavery?” She managed to lower her voice. They were still walking toward the hellish looking cages. The loading crew had temporarily disappeared through a door marked Crew Only, but the workers in their crimson uniforms could return at any moment.
“They’re genetically engineered fighters. You’ve heard of the Arena Games?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just continued on in a rush of words. “Roma wanted gladiators, only better. Stronger. Faster. More lethal. They force them to fight. To slaughter each other. They’re considered property of The Roma Company.”
“How is that—”
“They claim they’re a result of a genetic manufacturing system, property. And they used enough animal and non-human alien DNA to get the Council of Earth Allied Planets to declare them non-human…animals.”
Samantha didn’t exactly have one hundred percent human DNA herself. She shuddered at the idea of being deemed non-human just because her grandmother had been Cerrillian. It was bad enough to know she’d lose her pilot’s license if anyone learned what her father had done—but slavery. She fought the urge to tug at her sleeves, to make sure the distinctive bands of color along her arms stayed covered. She was a mixed-breed on the wrong side of the Alliance-Gollerra border. Why had she thought this risk worth taking? “Why haven’t I heard of this? I thought the gladiators were—”
“It’s not like Roma is going to advertise it. But we’re a long way from the core, Sam, and most people here don’t give a damn.”
“But—”
“We don’t have a lot of time and I have to tell you.”
If he was going to tell her he’d lost his mind, she could only agree.
Sevti kept his pace, but dabbed at the fine sheen of perspiration across his forehead with the arm of his uniform jacket. “Owens is suspicious.”
She wanted to shout of course he’s suspicious, you infected fifteen of his people with a virus but she managed to keep her mouth shut and listened.
“He’s sending two of his men with you to accompany the Dogs.”
She stopped, body jerking to a halt that ripped her out of Sevti’s hold. Her boots were suddenly lead, fused to the floor plating. “What am I supposed to do with passengers?” What was she supposed to do with genetically engineered fighters in her cargo-hold? Her heart pounded out a fast tattoo in her chest and her legs had turned rubbery.
“They’re not just passengers.” He wrapped his hand around her forearm and squeezed as if he thought the gesture was needed to convey the seriousness of the situation. “They’re two of his goons, handlers from the arena. These men are hot-tempered and arrogant, used to dishing out abuse with impunity. Steer clear of them as much as possible and stay out of the way when the resistance team boards. Keep your head down and you’ll be fine.”
She couldn’t imagine anything less fine. She was well aware of the seriousness of the danger she’d landed in. Samantha looked over to the nearest cage and the man inside. The tips of his pointed ears peeked up through a shoulder-length fall of dark hair. They twitched, but his attention focused in the direction the workers had gone. The prisoner’s broad shoulders and wrists were marred by silver ropes of scar tissue that made her ache to look at them.
He might be a victim, but that didn’t mean he was an angel. They fight to the death and share their females, she reminded herself. But if they cared so little for life and for their mate, why would they infuse their howls with such grief?
When she started forward again, urged on by Sevti’s insistent tugs, the Arena Dog jerked around to press against his cage directly in front of them. He gripped the unrelenting bars tight enough to make his knuckles whiten and the muscles in his arms bunch. Thunder clouds and lightning flashed at her from the depths of his silver-gray eyes.
Charlee Allden is a long time fan of love, adventure, and happily-ever-after. She grew up in Florida where a huge fallen oak tree in the swampy woods near her home served as her very own Star Ship Enterprise. Today, Charlee is a multi award winning author of sexy, intense, romantic adventure and suspense. She still lives in Florida across the street from a miniature version of the swamp she lived by as a child. You can connect with Charlee online and sign up for new release announcements by visiting her website at http://www.charleeallden.com/
Author Contact Information:
Charlee Allden email: charleeallden@gmail.com
Twitter: @charleeallden
Facebook: www.facebook.com/CharleeAlldenAuthor
