Passion And Parsecs

By Kelly Wallace

Krista made a vow to avoid men at all costs, until a sexy spaceman lands in her life. 

After a car accident that killed her cheating fiance and left her physically and emotionally scarred, Krista Roberts puts her modeling career on hold, hoping to find elusive peace by living a rustic life in the Arkansas Ozarks.

Her vow of avoiding men quickly changes when JT, a very human-like alien from another galaxy, crash lands on earth and into her life. Together they discover love and feelings that are alien to them both, all the while trying to keep JT from being captured by government agents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sinful Romance
• Release date: Oct 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386506539

Kelly Wallace

Kelly Wallace is a best selling multi-published spiritual and self-help author, radio show host, and has been a professional psychic counselor for over twenty years. She can see, hear, sense, and feel information sent from Spirit, the Universe, and a client's Higher Self. Whether your problems or concerns are in the area of love, finances, family, career, health, education, or your path in life, she offers affordable professional intuitive counseling, caring guidance, and solutions that work! More than just a typical psychic reading or counseling session, you will feel you've found a real friend during your time of need--whether you simply want answers and guidance to your current worries or concerns, or you're interested in learning more about your soul mate, spirit guides, past lives, or anything else. Visit her site today and book a reading! DrKellyPsychic.com

Book preview

Chapter One

Krista Roberts sat on the porch of her newly purchased Arkansas cabin, staring out into the summer night. The wine slid smoothly down her throat as she gazed at the dark woods all around her. Crickets chirped together in symphony, while an owl called in the distance. A gentle breeze sifted through her hair.

And she knew she’d go crazy at any minute.

Finishing the rest of the wine in three gulps, she set the glass down on the porch and got to her feet, needing to move around. If she wasn’t so afraid of encountering who-knew-what out in the forest, she’d go for a long jog right about now to release some of this tension.

The tranquilizers in her suitcase under the bed tempted her, but she resisted. She had promised herself there would be nothing artificial in her life from the moment she crossed the threshold of this place. For the past decade, her days and nights had been filled with artificial friends and lovers, and ways to make one feel better. The modeling world was that damn plastic at times, and she vowed no more. If she couldn’t relax on her own, then she would just wait for exhaustion to creep up on her. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She noticed that here in the mountains every noise was amplified a thousand times as the aged wood of the old porch creaked and groaned with every footfall. Krista pursed her lips as the symphony of crickets soon turned into a jarring sound that grated on her nerves.

Would you guys keep it down! she yelled in the direction of a particularly loud group. Placing three fingers at either side of her head, she rubbed her temples. Lord, she really was a mess. Here she was, shouting at a bunch of insects? Maybe it was the seclusion. Didn’t people often act strange when separated from the rest of society? And this place was indeed secluded. She couldn’t recall seeing a single person, other than Bobbie, in the three months she had been in the Ozarks. Only on her biweekly trips into the city below to restock her cupboards did she encounter another living soul, aside from squirrels and birds and the occasional deer.

Unfailingly, Bobbie would come up to check on her once a week or so to see if she needed anything. Krista smiled as her mind conjured up the redheaded cabin-sitter and self-proclaimed surrogate mother to any man, woman, child, or animal that seemed the least bit wounded.

As thoughts weaved in and out of her mind, she heard a loud roar that felt as if it vibrated from the earth itself and shot up into her feet. She let out a shriek and covered her ears as the noise grew, echoing in her chest and stomach.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she looked around, trying to find the cause of the noise. Her frightened gaze finally landed on the tarry, diamond-scattered sky above. There she saw a throbbing flame against the black velvet. Bluish and orange in color, it descended to the ground like a fiery comet, no more than a mile from where she stood.

Less than a heartbeat later there was a tremendous clap of noise, like thunder, and the air became strangely static; the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. Then all was quiet.

What had it been? A small plane that had caught fire and crashed to the earth? A meteor? Should she investigate? Maybe not, since she was alone. It could be dangerous. But what if it was a plane and the passengers were still alive? She had to help if she could.

Running inside, she grabbed her cell phone off the counter separating the living room from the kitchen, but the screen was dark. Damn! She had forgotten to charge it yet again. Should she walk over to the site and check it out? See if there were any casualties and bring the people or person back to her cabin and call an ambulance if needed or drive them down in her Jeep?

Her decision made, she ran into the hallway and opened the closet door. Retrieving a flashlight and her meager first-aid kit, she was back outside in less than two minutes. Running in the direction she had seen the craft crash land, her beam of light led the way like a guide dog on a harness, out into the darkness.

As her feet pounded into the leaf-and-needle-embedded ground, her blood pulsed quickly through her veins; her only thought was of rescuing any potential survivors. She had basic knowledge of first aid but hoped it would be enough until she got the victims to the city.

The trees were thick here; she never would have been able to maneuver her Jeep through the closely spaced trunks. Though she usually ran a couple of miles each morning before breakfast and never became winded, she found herself gasping for much-needed oxygen as she wove in and out of the trees, dodging low-hanging limbs. One branch escaped her attention and slapped her in the face as she raced by. It scratched her cheek deeply, yet she barely noticed as she streaked along.

During the day, if she ventured into this particularly overgrown area of the woods, she walked gingerly, carefully picking where she would place her foot next, afraid of encountering any snakes; but right now, her mind was focused only on her mission.

No fire burned in the distance. She hoped that was a good sign. But she had indeed seen the craft glow a bright blue-orange. Had the fire burned itself out already? Was she too late? Hadn’t anyone else seen it crashing to the ground or heard the noise? Most likely not. Her nearest neighbors were miles away in either direction, and she wasn’t even sure if those cabins were occupied.

Dear God, don’t let me be too late.

Her breath came in short, rough patches as her lungs filled with the sharp tang of pine and decaying leaves. Never had she felt this frantic, and, as morbid as it sounded, this alive.

Krista at last came to the clearing where she thought the craft had come down. Pushing some branches out of the way, she stopped. Her eyes opened wide, her gasp swallowed by the night. There before her, no more than twenty yards away, was a spaceship.

Chapter Two

Her brows collapsed into a curious frown. It sort of looked like a tanker truck on end, but she knew there was no way a truck could make it through these dense woods. Besides, it was far too large to be a semi, and the object had come from the sky.

She approached cautiously. It didn’t seem to be on fire. In fact, she was amazed to find the beam of her flashlight glinting off the metal as if it had just been hand-polished. Hadn’t it just been on fire a moment ago? Shouldn’t it be charred and twisted from all it had been through?

Hello? she called out, her rubber-soled feet crunching leaves and twigs as she walked toward the strange vessel, wondering if it indeed held any passengers. It wasn’t like any airplane she’d ever seen. Is anybody in there? Are you all right?

The object was about thirty feet in diameter and a good eight feet high. When she got close enough, she held both the first-aid kit and flashlight with one hand, reached out her free hand, and knocked. It felt like metallic canvas. Weird.

Maybe it was some type of weather balloon. Was it a foreign-made version of the space shuttle?

When no answer came from within, she transferred the white plastic box with the big red cross on it to her left hand again and walked around the object, shining her light over the surface. On one side there was some sort of insignia printed. The characters were about twelve inches high. Three of them. She thought that they were perhaps written in Russian since she was unfamiliar with the type of writing. Then again, they looked a little like Egyptian hieroglyphs, too.

For a moment she simply stared at the strange object and the foreign letters illuminated by the beam of her flashlight. Should she leave it be? But what if somebody was on board? Was it even a spacecraft at all?

She placed an ear against the surface and was surprised to find that the metal was warm, as if it produced its own internal heat. She knocked. Hello? Again, there was no answer.

It was entrenched in the dirt and tilted slightly to the left. It looked incredibly lightweight for its size. Another look around found no door or windows. It appeared both air- and water-tight. Maybe it was just a weather balloon after all.

She was just about to turn around and leave, but something inside her brain nagged her. She had to be certain there were no passengers inside this strange craft. If she turned her back on it and went home, the possibility of leaving anyone behind to die would always bother her.

Krista placed the first-aid kit on the ground and ran her fingers over every square inch within reach, searching for an opening. A moment later she found something; a door-sized piece of the object moved slightly. She tried forcing it open, but it only budged the tiniest of cracks. Putting down the flashlight, she looked around and found a stick then wedged it into the crevice, prying the door open. The door stuck at first, then slid right open; light poured out from the interior of the craft.

For a moment Krista stood there with her hand held in front of her face to block some of the glare. When her eyes became accustomed to the bright light, she called out again. Her ears only picked up the sound of crickets and the rustle of the leaves in the trees.

She climbed through the doorway and inhaled a quick breath once she was inside. All she could do was stand there, unable to move, legs trembling. When she'd come up to this strange vessel she had seen that it wasn’t a plane, thinking for certain it was a weather balloon or perhaps a satellite, but what she saw before her made her want to crumple onto the pristine white floor.

No more than six feet away from where she stood was a man! Dressed in dark coveralls, he was slumped over the controls of this vehicle. His forehead rested against the complicated-looking console, and a low humming sound came from somewhere to her right.

What sort of aircraft was this? It had to be foreign. Most probably top secret.

After retrieving the first-aid kit, she approached the so-still man, her eyes darting around with each step, trying to take in everything at once. It was sparse, yet she could make out what she suspected to be the pilot’s sleeping quarters with a few cupboards and closets.

There were dozens of flashing and pulsing lights in every color imaginable directly in front of the motionless figure. She’d never seen anything so complex-looking. This guy must have spent a decade just learning how to use all those knobs, buttons, and levers, she mused, nearly upon him now.

Hello? It was definitely a man as she could make out huge shoulders, firm biceps, and a wide back that stretched taut the thin material of his uniform. Are you all right?

Krista reached out a hand to touch him, then stopped, afraid he was dead. She held her breath and laid two fingers to the side of his neck over the carotid artery. Nerves made it difficult for her to detect a heartbeat. She slid her fingers a little lower. Pressing a bit harder, she let out her breath in a low, grateful sigh. There was a pulse, weak and irregular, but he was alive.

Another look around proved that this was the vehicle’s only passenger. At least she’d only have to worry about getting one person back to the cabin, though he was quite a bit larger than she. Even slumped over as he was she could tell he was well over six and a half feet tall.

Sir? Krista grabbed his left shoulder and gave it a little shake. Can you hear me? she said loudly. Immediately she detected the male scent of him; clean, unadorned, teasing to her senses. Her hand tingled where she touched him, and she squeezed a little harder, feeling firm muscle beneath her fingertips.

In the next instant, she felt embarrased for feeling this man up, finding his body scent so appealing, when he was comatose and needed medical attention. She’d obviously been isolated for too long.

Giving him another little shove, Krista jumped, startled, when he turned his head to the side and mumbled something unintelligible. There was a deep gash over his left eyebrow. Blood trickled freely from the wound that was swollen to the size of the Hope Diamond. It probably needed stitches. He moaned and mumbled again, words she didn't understand, but at least he wasn’t completely out of it.

Optimism swam through her. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad off as she had first expected. Maybe she could rouse him enough to assist her in getting him back to the cabin and her Jeep.

Taking him by the shoulders, Krista pushed him so that he sat upright against the back of the swivel chair. His neck muscles were useless as his head lolled back. Sir. She patted him on the cheek, ignoring his warm skin under her clammy palm. Ignoring thick sable lashes that lay softly against smooth, golden flesh. His facial features were clean-cut and angular, and if it hadn’t been for the slight growth of a beard and mustache, she would have envied skin and bone structure as flawless as his. Without thought, she reached up to touch the scar on her left cheek.

He moaned again, clearly uncomfortable. Krista didn’t like seeing anyone in pain, but this stranger’s pain might be just the thing she needed to keep him conscious long enough to get him back home. If not, she’d never be able to drag a man of his size all the way to the cabin.

As an afterthought, she checked his arms and legs, not finding anything broken, though his facial wound needed tending to before they headed back. Opening the kit, she found a few antiseptic pads in foil packets, gauze, and waterproof tape. Taking out the needed items, she cleaned his wound, placing several of the gauze squares over the cut, wincing as she applied pressure for a few minutes to try and stop the bleeding. Her stomach pitched a little. She wasn’t cut out to be a nurse.

When she figured it had stopped bleeding enough, she secured fresh pads with some of the tape. Not too bad for a novice, she deemed, inspecting her handiwork.

Now she had