Today's First Chapter Friday is from my very spicy MFM alien romance, SEXY SUITORS FROM SPACE. I originally wrote this story under the penname Paisley Brown, but found it difficult to handle multiple social media accounts on one platform for my books. So, I don't do that anymore. Anyway, this story is about a woman who is fresh out of a breakup, the gift her grandmother granted her, and the erotic adventure she has. It's 99¢ USD and available wide.
Enjoy the opening scene from SEXY SUITORS FROM SPACE...
Some vacation. Nothing but snow for miles. I might as well have been visiting the North Pole with all the layers of clothing I had on. And, somehow, the cold wind still managed to find the small amount of face I didn’t have covered, stinging the skin around my eyes.
“Are we almost there?” I could barely see five feet in front of me, only the mountain of a man directly ahead. If he slowed down for one second, I’d grab his coat with one hand and cover the rest of my face with my free arm. But if I didn’t keep up, I’d get lost in the blizzard. “Seriously, is the place I’m staying anywhere nearby?” Every other hotel I’d stayed at had the check-in desk within the building. Apparently not this one.
The man didn’t respond, kept walking, guiding me, hopefully, to the glass igloo where my grandmother held a timeshare.
“Get away for a few days, Heather,” she’d said, handing me the plane ticket to Finland and shoving me out the door. “You’ll have a lot of fun and forget about your scum of a cheating fiancé. It’s been a year since you kicked him out. Time to move on. Show off your new curves.”
Sure, curves that I’d gained from spending a week eating nothing but ice cream. Not only had I gained ten pounds, but I’d started crying Ben & Jerry’s. It still hadn’t helped my pain. I’d loved Todd and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Unfortunately, my love hadn’t been returned. But, a trip wouldn’t make me forget what I’d walked in on two days before Christmas.
I’d tried to return the tickets. “Snow and cold really aren’t my thing, Grandma.” Give me a tropical beach somewhere with tanned, muscled men, and I’d at least try to get over Todd.
Refusing to take them back, she’d only patted my hands. “You’ll be surprised how much fun it is in Lapland. I would go, but I’m getting too old to enjoy the...amenities. It’s your turn now.” She winked and shut the door behind her.
And there I was, trekking through the knee-deep snow north of the Arctic Circle, dreading the blanket of white and cold I expected to last my entire vacation.
As if a brick wall had jumped in front of me, I smacked into something solid. My guide. He’d finally stopped. If not for all of the extra layers I wore, the collision would have left a few bruises.
“We’re here.” He fiddled with some contraption—I assumed the lock—while I peeled myself off him.
I peeked around him to get a view of my accommodations for the next week. Shit! A real glass igloo, not some extravagant hotel with a dome-shaped glass roof that looked like an igloo. Last time I ever trust Grandma to know what’s best for me. The woman might have raised me, but she was so out of touch with what I needed as an adult.
Opening the door, the man grabbed me under the armpits to pluck me from the snow and ushered me inside the igloo, a space no bigger than my kitchen. This was where I’d be trapped, alone, for one week with nothing to do but remember the night I’d walked into my house to find my fiancé fucking some floozy. And Todd hadn’t even bothered to hide the fact he lived with another woman from her. If he hadn’t raced out of the house, I swear I would have cut his balls off.
“Would you fancy me to return this evening to escort you to dinner? It will be served at six.”
I spun around, my guide’s baritone voice warming me from the inside out. He’d barely spoken more than two words since we’d met. He stood closer than expected, and I nearly slammed into him again, wobbling in my boots. Gripping my arms, he steadied me.
“Um....” All ability to breathe and speak flew out the door. I stared into his crystal-blue eyes, surprised by the stranger yet again. He’d removed his scarf and hood, revealing Thor-like features. My clit pulsed, alive for the first time in months. The doppelganger of the only superhero who’d ever turned me on stood less than a foot away, holding my upper arms. I’d give anything to run my hands through his wavy blond hair, kiss along the firm jaw covered with golden stubble, nip at his full lips.
Fuck being the good girl. That had only left me with a broken heart. This was my vacation, and I planned to have some fun, get what I wanted. A sexcation. I’d deal with reality when I returned home.
I sighed as my inner vixen decided to come out and play. “I’d much rather keep you here. We can warm each other up.” And I couldn’t blame the vixen. Who’d want to let this hunk go?
Thor dropped his hands and smiled, but the upturn of his lips didn’t travel all the way to his eyes. Flattered, but not interested. Probably married, too.
With a groan of disappointment, I stepped away and unzipped my parka. Might as well get comfortable, even if I do have to spend all of my time alone. “Fine, then. Yes, I would appreciate an escort to dinner.” If I didn’t have one, I’d likely get lost in the snowstorm, not able to tell up from down.
After a quick nod, he lifted his hood and left. A cold breeze rushed in during the quick moment the door stood open and a chill ran through me. Shivering, I considered zipping up again, but decided to dive under the covers of the double bed. Or maybe a hot shower would be better.
Shucking off the bulky layers, I headed for the bathroom, desperately needing something to warm me up. After opening the door, I wanted to slam it shut again.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
No shower. Just a damn toilet and sink. No tub, I could understand, but was it too much to expect at least a tiny stall to wash up in? This is turning out to be the worst vacation ever.
I rushed to the bed, not worrying if anyone spotted me naked. It wasn’t as if anyone could see anything with the snow flying around. Diving under the covers, I yanked them up to my chin, willing a way to stop the shakes tormenting me.
The usual haunting vision of Todd fucking another woman crept into my mind, but I shoved it aside. I didn’t need him making this trip worse. Besides, I had fresh fodder from my guide to fantasize with. Interested or not, he couldn’t stop me from imagining him licking my pussy or pounding into me with what was sure to be a gloriously large cock. Liquid fire rushed through my veins, forcing away the chill.
I drew a finger along my slick folds, picturing my guide between my legs, his tongue darting in and out of me while he rubbed my clit with his thumb. Pleasure I’d craved for so long.
Reaching over the side of the bed, I tugged open the nightstand drawer, hoping for something cock-shaped to fill me. I gasped when I saw a long box with my name on it. Who’d left it, I had no idea. Slipping off the lid, I found a silver bullet vibrator and a huge dildo beside it, labeled Goliath. A strange gift. But with my growing desire, I didn’t care. The object would fill every inch of my pussy as I’m sure my guide would have.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash the items, I dropped the bullet into the larger toy and scurried into bed.
Imagining the weight of my own personal Thor on top of me, his lips sending me into a dizzying frenzy of lust, I shoved Goliath inside. My hips shot off the bed, and I cried out. Holy shit!
On his knees, he pounds in and slides out again, ready for the next attack. Over and over, each plunge ramps up the electric tension, filling me with nothing but need. I grab his thighs and thrust toward him, meeting him halfway. There is no slowing the pace, no relenting, just a mad rush for release. His grunts grow louder and he rams into my pussy, the force and the swell of his cock sending me over the edge.
My body twitches. The orgasm rips through me in shock waves and I draw him back down on me. In between raspy breaths, he melds his lips to mine, taking all I have to offer with his demanding kiss. Our tongues battle in an erotic war, neither one of us retreating. He rocks inside me, gearing up for another round. And I am ready.
More, give me more.
Today's First Chapter Friday is from my eight 1Night Stand story that I wrote as part of a special call for all authors attending the Romancing the Capital conference in 2015. In this story, the romance author is attending the conference, too, and winds up on a blind date with someone she hasn't seen for a while.
Enjoy the first chapter of HER ALIEN HERO...
Melinda Rose tossed a quarter into the gleaming-white marble fountain near the porte cochère. I wish to find my soul mate, the man I’m going to marry, in the next year. She’d waited long enough, dated men of all ages and races, but had yet to come across her forever man.
Her friends leaned forward and stared at her, Michelle bobbing her head up and down as if waiting for her to say something.
Tara bumped Melinda’s hip, almost knocking her into Michelle. “So…? What did you wish for?”
“A billion dollars.” No way would she tell them all she wanted was a guy to settle down with. According to her online friends, she reigned as queen of single women, the one who tossed men away like she held her own “guy card” and then wrote books about them the way composers wrote music about their relationships.
She could tell when a man wanted her for nothing but sex. They offered effusive compliments, and sneaked quick peeks at other women in case someone younger or skinnier came along. Often, she didn’t object to a night or two of raw, dirty sex—her stories needed some fresh inspiration—but she grew tired of the game. How long did she have to wait to locate her future husband, her very own hero? At thirty-five, she hadn’t even had a nibble on her line, not a single relationship with any promise. Yet, a couple of her friends already enjoyed life with their second and third husbands. She only asked for one.
“So you can travel the world and sleep with a man from every country?” Amber’s eyes lit up at the thought, the poor thing having lost her husband in a motorcycle accident less than a year before.
Melinda cringed inside. She didn’t want to be the friend her peers lived their fantasies vicariously through. Why couldn’t she unearth a guy to spend the rest of her life with? “Sure. I’ll definitely have to stock up on condoms before I go on that trip.” Though, if her wish came true, she could bring a man, the man, with her. She just had to stumble upon him first.
Sabrina, Tara, Michelle, and Lauren all tossed coins into the fountain. What wishes did they make? As a child, Melinda never would have guessed she’d be sharing her hopes and dreams with readers in stories. If only one of them would come true.
Melinda shrugged off her woes, ready to enjoy her first romance conference of the year. “Okay, are we all ready to check in?” Though, after driving four hours to meet her friends, some she’d never met except online, she yearned for the chance to crash on her bed for a few minutes of rest before the event began.
“Yes! Let’s get this party started!” Sabrina sashayed through the entrance of the hotel as if leading a parade.
Thank goodness she’d roomed with Lauren again. Melinda didn’t know if she could handle Sabrina’s excess energy for an entire weekend. Sure, she enjoyed the social aspects of conferences, meeting readers in person as well as other authors she’d connected with online and connecting with new ones, too, but she liked her downtime.
At the check-in desk, Lauren—her ideal roommate and closest friend in the industry—sidled up beside her. “You ready for another?”
Melinda nodded, filled with a sudden excitement. “Always.” She’d met Lauren online through another author five years earlier, and while they lived hours away from each other, Melinda tried to meet up with her at least once a year at a conference.
After presenting her credit card, Melinda received key cards, passed one to Lauren, and headed toward the conference registration table, leaving her friends with their multitude of suitcases behind. She’d left her own in the car until she took care of all the registration details—the advantage of a con so close to home. After returning the valet cart to the lobby, she walked into her room and saw Lauren already rooting through her goodie bag on the other bed. Melinda removed her shoes and hung up her coat in the closet, already half-full with her roommate’s stuff.
“Hey, have you heard of 1Night Stand?” Lauren pointed to her laptop. “It’s a dating service run by someone named Madame Eve. I hear several authors attending the conference have dates using them this weekend.”
Melinda scoffed, tucking her luggage beside her bed. “Romance authors using a dating service? Seems weird, doesn’t it?”
Lauren shrugged. “Makes sense, though. Everyone here believes in soul mates and happily-ever-afters, right? Want to sign up?”
“Wait, what?” Lauren knew the type of guy she wanted and had been there to commiserate with Melinda through all her bad experiences with matchmaking sites in the past.
“C’mon. Sign up for a 1Night Stand. It’ll be fun.”
“No.” Melinda shook her head with vigor. “No way. I’ve had enough one-night stands in my life. You know that. I don’t need or want another. Ever.” She flopped back on the bed, trying to forget the sting of rejection at being kicked out of a warm bed at three o’clock in the morning and making the walk of shame to her car, or waking up alone. Worse yet, the guy who woke up beside her and didn’t even remember her name. She was done with it all. Done.
“But this is different.” Her friend tossed the paper at her. “It’s more like a blind date. The owner of the company chooses the guy you’ll go out with. No profiles to look at and no obscene messages from creeps.”
“Sounds too good to be true, if you ask me.” She’d been burned too many times trying new ways to meet men.
“Read the testimonials. From couples still together, many of them married shortly after their date.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Okay, so she got a few right, but how many mismatches did this woman make along the way? How many of her clients will tell you they ended up with an asshole? I don’t want to be an Oops, I got it wrong case.”
“C’mon, Mel, take a chance. I swear, if you don’t do this, I’ll do it for you. I’ve already started filling out my own application. I’m going to do yours next.”
With a sigh, Melinda read the testimonials on Lauren’s screen then reached down to grab her laptop case. Too good to be true, maybe, but Madame Eve did have a high success rate and had set up some very high-profile couples. “Fine, I’ll do it.” Besides, if she refused, Lauren would sign her up. She noted the cost of a 1Night Stand and didn’t want to be someone’s charity case, no matter how close they were.
Filling in the never-ending online form, she told almost truths, though she may have left a few pounds off her weight. And her height may have included her high heels. When asked to describe her ideal man, she paused. In every story she wrote, her hero came from outer space, as she didn’t believe any good single men still existed on Earth. Women who already knew what they wanted in life had snatched them up in their twenties without exception. If only she’d been ready to get hitched at that age.
A sexy, hard-working man from another planet.
There! Let Madame Eve find her a man who fit her bizarre description. She tabbed to the next question before she could delete her words.
Melinda rushed through the rest of the questions and submitted her application. She glanced over at Lauren. “You done yet?”
“Yep.” Her friend bounced on the bed, releasing a high-pitched squeal. “I can’t wait to meet the guy Madame Eve sets me up with.”
“Me, too,” she lied. Though she had no doubt extraterrestrials existed somewhere in the wide expanse of the universe, they didn’t live on Earth and, therefore, could not be found for a 1Night Stand. Especially at such short notice. Her application would be rejected, leaving her worry free about another blind date. No money out of her pocket, and Lauren wouldn’t be hounding her all weekend about applying.
Melinda’s email tab blinked to show a new message. Her stomach rolled when she read the sender. She clicked over and opened an email from the owner of the matchmaking service. “I got a confirmation of receipt. Did you?”
Lauren sighed. “Yes. I thought she had arranged a date for me already, but I guess I was hoping for a lot, eh?”
“Considering she probably has several applications come in each day with all of those high-profile testimonials, I doubt we’ll hear anything until after the weekend.” Hopefully never, in her case.
While logged in, Melinda checked the rest of her inbox, deleting row after row of unimportant emails, nothing to take her mind off the numerous possible creeps she might be set up with. If, in fact, the woman found her a date. Maybe Madame Eve would set her up with a man who believed he came from another planet, one obsessed with space, the kind of guy her parents thought she wanted. They’d sweetly bought her a ticket for Fan Expo in Toronto last August, encouraging her to meet one. Epic fail. Dressed as Agent Carter, she’d had a guy claiming to be Captain America, wearing a beer case around his chest, stalk her the entire day.
In her other social media, a fan had mentioned being excited to meet her, a big squee in front with plenty of exclamation points. Such messages brightened her mood. Reader excitement fed her own and kept her muse’s ego soothed. She sent a quick reply. @LindaReads Looking forward to meeting you. I’ll be a Mad Hatter tonight. Be sure to find me. About to log off, Melinda noticed another message appear in her inbox. From Madame Eve again.
“Hey, did you receive a second confirmation?”
Lauren turned toward her, the side of her face scrunched in confusion. “No, did you?”
“I…I think so. Maybe.” Though the subjects were different. Your 1Night Stand the subject of the second said rather than Confirmation of receipt of 1Night Stand application.
“Let me see.” Lauren leaped from her bed to Melinda’s, not touching the floor on the way over.
Melinda waved her fingers over the touch pad. “There’s no way she could have found me a match already, or even read through everything I wrote. Should I click on it? I mean, what if it’s spam or a virus—I would lose all my stories.”
“Open it!” Lauren perched behind her, peering over her shoulder. “You backed up all your work before you left home, remember? Maybe Madame Eve predicted your application would come in today and is a speed reader. Who knows? Please don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
Hand vibrating from nerves, Melinda brought the pointer to the message, clicked, and read.
I’ve been waiting a great deal of time for your application. I’ve had the perfect man for you all along. You will meet him at seven tonight in room 316 for dinner and an evening filled with whatever activities you choose. I have attached his photograph so you will know who you are meeting.
Melinda’s lunch threatened to make a reappearance. This is all wrong. Her date had to be someone who believed himself an alien. No one else would match the description of her ideal man. Thank goodness she had a reason to cancel. “It’s not going to work tonight. I am having dinner with all of you, with my readers. I spent a lot of money on my Mad Hatter costume.”
Gripping her shoulder, Lauren squeezed. “Yes, I know, but you are going to skip it. No way I’m letting you pass on this opportunity. Besides, I’m sure your fans would love to read about how you met your happily-ever-after guy at a conference.” She clicked on the attachment. “Let’s see what this guy looks like.”
As the picture popped up on screen, they gasped, Melinda in pure shock.
“He’s hot.” Lauren leaned closer to the computer. “Look at those muscles. And such a strong jaw…. Wow! I’m so jealous. Can I pretend I’m you tonight?”
Melinda squinted at the screen, a headache developing in her temples. He wasn’t at all the man she’d expected to be matched up with. Not even a guy she’d expected to see again. “I know him. He’s my…. Oh God, I know him.”
Hello! It's been a while since I've posted a First Chapter Friday post. The last time was on a former blog that no longer exists. Plus, I've released many stories since then. As I work on my current work-in-progress, I thought I'd share some of my already published stories. At first I thought about posting in the order they were published. But then I decided to post according to their publishing anniversary date. No years included, just the month and the date. So, we're starting with UNKNOWN FUTURES, a sapphic sci-fi romance that is part of the 1Night Stand line at Decadent Publishing. It was published January 3, 2012.
Here's the first chapter from UNKNOWN FUTURES...
“Miss Jewel Barnaby?”
Her eyes darted toward the tall, austere man in surprise, nervous tension knotting her shoulders. She almost didn’t respond. No one had called her Jewel since she’d left the hospital two years ago. Instead they called her ugly, freak, or monster. The doctors had done all they could, but despite the several surgeries and multiple, painful skin grafts, everyone in Prescott, Ontario would always know her as the girl who was splashed in the face with acid on the biggest night of her teenage life.
They’d been in his garage, grabbing blankets for the after-prom party. When he’d tried to get fresh with her, she’d had to tell him, a jock through and through, she wouldn’t sleep with him, that she’d preferred women. But he didn’t take no for an answer. Pinned against his truck, her heart racing in panic, she kneed him in the groin. Doubled over, he’d grabbed sulfuric acid from a shelf behind him and splashed it in her face. Everything after that moment became a blur until she woke up in a hospital, groggy with painkillers, a tube stuck down her throat. She couldn’t see a thing with the bandages covering her eyes, but felt and heard her mother by her side.
From then on, some of her neighbors looked at her with disgust, sympathy, or fear. Others glanced away when she passed, as if she didn’t exist, including her old friends.
The chauffeur simply smiled at her as he reached for her two oversized suitcases. His professional, impassive demeanor calmed some of the butterflies dancing in her stomach.
Standing on the curb, she stared down the road, sure neighbors spied out their windows, wondering why a limo would be picking her up. I need a break from this place. As she slid over the leather seat of the Ford Excursion limousine, her stomach tightened. Madame Evangeline’s text had been brief. Pack for two weeks. The limo will meet you in front of your building in an hour. She’d had no time to do anything but change and throw clothes in a suitcase.
Until now. Had applying to 1Night Stand really been a good idea? She could end up with her date running away, screaming. And why had Madame Evangeline told her to pack for two weeks when her date was only supposed to last one night?
She had no one to report to, though, no one who would worry she’d be gone for so long. She didn’t have a job. When she handed in applications, she was often told the position had already been filled, and once she’d poked her head back in to ask a question and seen her resume being ripped up before she’d even left the building. All the university courses she took were through distance education. With so much free time, she often kept well ahead of her studies so she had no assignments due for another month.
Her parents wouldn’t miss her either; her mother had died a year before from breast cancer. They’d spent so much time together in the hospital. She’d been Jewel’s closest friend, her ally, the one person who’d accepted her unconditionally. And now she had no one. Her father only cared about his bimbo of a girlfriend, and made sure to keep the airhead away from his lesbian daughter. Jewel rolled her eyes. She preferred a woman with a brain, not an ass wiggle and an annoying laugh.
In the last two years, though, she hadn’t had one date, not even a night out with friends. No one wanted to be seen with her, and after a day of stares at the local college, when she’d gone there to write an exam, she’d returned home and applied to the 1Night Stand dating service. She’d read an account of the wondrous matchmaking abilities of Madame Evangeline on a Yahoo group for burn victims. If Josh had found love, why couldn’t she?
Jewel had no idea what her date looked like or where she’d meet her. Looks really didn’t matter, but she wanted an age, a name, something…. And where was she going? Packing for the Sahara Desert was not the same as packing for the Arctic Circle, so she’d included clothing for both and every climate in between.
When the limo merged onto the highway, she reached into her tote bag for her ereader. Taking her mind off the purpose of her trip might ease her rolling stomach. Throwing up in the luxurious car did not seem like a good idea. She loaded up the most recent book from her favorite science fiction romance series—involving an alien species not as uptight about homosexuality as humans—and became lost in a world more hospitable than her own.
Jessica E. Subject is a USA Today bestselling author of Sci-Fi and Paranormal Romance.
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