Jennifer and the Alien Badass

By Jessica Coulter Smith

Jennifer Montgomery has never needed anyone in her life except her daughter. A single mom of a now eighteen year old, her entire life has revolved around Lila. But when Lila goes missing, Jennifer is devastated and determines to do whatever it takes to find her. She just never expected her search to lead her to the Terran Station and their bride program. Or to learn that her daughter isn't who Jennifer thought she was.

Siril, Captain of the Herack, is revered on his world for his tireless pursuit of the space pirates infesting the galaxy. The best of the best, as they say. If killing people were an art, he'd be da Vinci. But all the blood is starting to wear on him. There are only so many heads you can lop off before it grows old. At fifty, he's ready for a break, but when he agreed to a vacation on Earth, he never expected to meet his perfect match, someone he'd decided didn't exist. Who would ever want a battered and broken old warrior like him? But Jennifer is fierce, sexy as hell, and he wants to make her his.

As the two come together, and sparks become a blazing inferno, Jennifer realizes that maybe it's okay to live her life and do something completely selfish -- like fall in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Jan 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780831402686

Jessica Coulter Smith

Author of Adult & Erotic Romance, with an emphasis on paranormal and fantasy.

Book preview

love.

Chapter One

Siril narrowed his good eye and his hands tightened on his weapons, a one of a kind set of perfectly matched Corian steel blades that’d been passed down from father to son for the last four generations. They had been blessed by a priestess and were irreplaceable.

The disease-ridden pirates had been allowed to board this ship, giving them a false sense of security, but now they were putting up a decent fight. No matter how skilled they were though, no one was a match for Siril, especially not as pissed as he was. He should be home right now, training new warriors. But no, he was stuck on board the Herack dealing with the lowlifes in front of him.

You’re not welcome in this galaxy, Siril said. I’ll spare your life if you leave immediately and never return.

The pirate spat on the floor at Siril’s feet, the green ooze narrowly missing his custom-made boots -- a gift from a Kaspian princess. Siril grinned, remembering the fun he’d had before leaving her world. But now wasn’t the time for fun. Now he had to take out the trash, by any means necessary. He really didn’t want the pirate’s blood on his ship. The dripping sores on his face could be from any number of maladies, none of them good. The ship would have to be scrubbed for days to get it clean again -- the hands and knees kind of scrubbing, because the auto cleaners weren’t going to get the job done this time. And then there was the arterial spray that almost always got on his clothes. Killing someone was just more trouble than he liked to deal with, even if he was really good at it.

The pirate lunged at him, his subpar weapon missing Siril by a mile. It was going to be too easy to take this guy out. He resigned himself to having the ship scrubbed top to bottom. The pirate swayed on his feet and Siril took the moment to attack. His blades sliced through the pirate’s arms, separating them at the shoulders. Blood sprayed the walls and deck as the pirate’s screams echoed down the halls. Being merciful, he crossed his blades at the pirate’s neck and lopped off his head, creating blessed silence. The head bounced and rolled across the floor as a spray of blood arced across Siril’s shirt.

You just wouldn’t listen to reason, would you? Siril griped. No, you made me contaminate my ship with your vile blood. And my damn shirt is ruined.

He grimaced at the mess and wiped his blades on his shirt, since it would likely need to be thrown out anyway, before sliding them back into their sheaths. The blood seeped through the garment and touched his skin. Siril ripped the fabric from his body and threw it on the floor. A shower. He needed a damn shower. But first he went to check on the rest of the crew. He stepped over dismembered bodies as he made his way through his ship, wondering if his council would be overly pissed if he just torched the vessel and requested a new one. The pirates probably carried space-pox and a dozen other contagions. No amount of scrubbing was going to get rid of that.

Maybe he was getting too old for this damn job. Despite the fact he’d recently turned fifty, Siril was still considered the best on Zelthrane-3 at what he did. His hair was still black as pitch, but he bore too many scars to be considered youthful looking. And if his scars didn’t scare people away, his missing body parts did the trick. His left eye had been lost in a battle with a Marowak warrior when he was twenty. The pinky on his right hand had been lost a few years after that. His left leg from just below his knee down was made of Corian steel like his blades, and looked enough like a leg and foot, bar the fact it was a shiny silver. It was permanently attached and worked as well as his own had, perhaps even better. But while females didn’t mind those things for a quick romp, he wasn’t someone they would want to wake up next to every morning. He didn’t even care for his own reflection most days, so he couldn’t blame them.

His crew was at the docking port, tossing pirate bodies out the airlock. Covered in blood, they made him cringe. He hoped none of them came down with some disease their physicians couldn’t heal. It was his only fear when he went into battle. Dying in combat was one thing, but having your body rot from the inside out didn’t sound all that pleasant. He was getting checked the moment he stepped foot back on Zelthrane-3. While he thoroughly enjoyed fluid transfers when it came to females, the blood of a pirate was enough to make him scrub his skin until it peeled.

His crew didn’t seem to have an issue with it as they laughed and joked, tossing one body after another out into space. Ship needs to be cleaned, he told them. Scrub it twice. Yellow sludge seeped out of one of the bodies at his feet and he winced. Make that three times.

Should we set a course for home? Haptir asked.

Yes. Once you’ve finished disposing of the pirates. I don’t want their remains anywhere near Zelthrane-3. Siril left them to their work and went to his quarters. The door had barely closed before he started removing his boots and pants. He turned on the cleansing unit and stepped under the spray. Scrubbing his body and hair twice, he leaned his head against the wall and wondered what life would be like without constant bloodshed. Not that a good battle wasn’t fun -- preferably on someone else’s ship so they had to deal with the cleanup.

Such things didn’t used to bother him, but the older he got, the less he liked the messy side of his work. Why couldn’t they die neatly? Was it really necessary for a decapitation to douse everything in blood? But what else was he to do? If he wasn’t beheading people, was he supposed to sit at home and die of boredom? He’d been asked to train their warriors full time, and it was an honorable position, but Siril wasn’t certain he was ready to hang up his blades just yet. There were many good fights left in him.

He shut off the unit and dried himself. He looked at his bed longingly, but there would be plenty of time to sleep once they reached home. They’d been after the pirates for days and he’d slept little. In his youth, he could have stayed awake for days on end without feeling the least bit tired. But now, as the oldest active warrior for their world, he was feeling every one of his fifty years. Donning clean clothes, he checked his boots before putting them back on, and went to the galley. He grabbed a Melranian star fruit and leaned against the counter. His crew could handle the cleanup and navigation necessary to get them back home. There was little for him to do.

Except think.

The council had often offered Siril time off over the last few years, encouraging him to take a trip to Earth and get off world without having to engage in battle. He’d always waved them off and gone right back to work, but maybe it was time to take a break. Even a week off might be nice. While Zelthrane-3 was more advanced than the humans’ Earth in many ways, the blue planet had a lot of marvels that interested him. Like music and movies. And while he’d heard there would be a place to dance opening soon in Terran Prime, it might be entertaining to see all of those things on Earth and explore the human world a bit. Providing he didn’t scare the puny humans.

When the bride program had first opened, they’d welcomed all humans to their world, including males who took temporary jobs on their planet to make the human females feel more at ease. But over time, only brides were allowed on Zelthrane-3, and the screening process had gotten stricter. The first few months of the program, there had been too many fights, as well as human females falling for the human males. Things were streamlined now, and from what he could tell the program was a huge success. He’d often thought of checking out the brides to find a mate of his own, but they all seemed so young. He wondered if the council only approved the young ones to guarantee children for the mated pairs. He didn’t know much about humans and wondered if the older females either couldn’t have children or if it would be too hard on their bodies. More than likely, he would spend his years alone.

Captain, Velic said over the system. We’re about to enter warp drive and will be home shortly. It might get a little bumpy.

Siril braced his feet and continued to eat his fruit as the ship vibrated around him. He wondered what sort of female would ever settle for someone like him. He’d been handsome once, but wars had ravaged his face and body. There were females out there who thrilled over being with a warrior such as he, but they were few and far between. And once the thrill was over, they left and he was alone once more. No one wanted to wake up next to him every day for the rest of their lives.

If he ever did claim a mate, he had a wonderful home for her. The council had provided him one of the best houses on his world. It was large, easily big enough for many children, and had a lush garden out back. He seldom saw it, spending most of his time on this ship trying to keep the galaxy safe. If he did take a mate, he supposed he’d have to spend more time at home. Was he ready to give up this way of life if it meant having a warm female to bed every night?

He wanted to say yes, but he wondered if he’d miss wreaking havoc and striking fear into the hearts of those around him. Just his name was enough to send most running in fear. He’d earned his reputation and was proud of it. Human females seemed fragile, though, and he doubted they would thrill over his many kills. He wanted a female every bit as fierce as he was, but he had yet to meet one. Someone who could take care of themselves if he had to leave on a mission. Worrying about a helpless, fragile mate would only get him killed. No, he needed a warrior. But in all his travels, he’d never met a female warrior. There were stories of some on far off worlds, but it was