Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings: The Final Forever

By J. Lee Roberts

Adventures of a Sexy Seductress

In a world where monsters dwell in the shadows, one woman dares to walk in the light. When Catalina chose a small blue planet to hold a galactic Olympiad over two thousand years ago, she never dreamed she would one day rule over its inhabitants. Now, after all the war and strife she has endured all she wants to do is live a life of love and pleasure. Her only obstacle, a sinister Council who have abandoned their charge and now threaten the livelihoods of the entire human race. With a little help from her friends, Catalina has vowed to thwart the opposition and bring peace, love, and seduction back into balance.

Reader Advisory: Be forewarned, the story within contains X-rated tales of a Nightling’s naughty escapades.

PUBLISHER NOTE: Sci-Fi Erotica. 35,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Dec 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005059262

J. Lee Roberts

J. Lee Roberts spends her time between the majestic Hawaiian Islands and the soft, rolling foothills of central California. She loves dancing and experiencing live music. She spends her days tinkering in her garden, where she grows an abundance of fruit, vegetables, and fragrant flowers. She spends her nights snuggling with her hunky, blue-eyed partner. When not dancing, gardening, or snuggling, J. Lee enjoys spending time with the girls. Anything can happen at a girls night; naughty photo shoots, poker tournaments, and the occasional solstice celebration are just some of the crazy things they get up to on an all girls night. Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings, Volume 1: Cleopatra’s Pearls is the first of a long line of tales, involving a sexy seductress, who just can’t be satisfied. J. Lee Roberts is also in the process of finishing her first, full-length thriller.

Book preview

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 6: THE FINAL FOREVER

J. LEE ROBERTS

Adventures of a Sexy Seductress

In a world where monsters dwell in the shadows, one woman dares to walk in the light. When Catalina chose a small blue planet to hold a galactic Olympiad over two thousand years ago, she never dreamed she would one day rule over its inhabitants. Now, after all the war and strife she has endured all she wants to do is live a life of love and pleasure. Her only obstacle, a sinister Council who have abandoned their charge and now threaten the livelihoods of the entire human race. With a little help from her friends, Catalina has vowed to thwart the opposition and bring peace, love, and seduction back into balance.

Reader Advisory: Be forewarned, the story within contains X-rated tales of a Nightling’s naughty escapades.

PUBLISHER NOTE: Sci-Fi Erotica. 35,000 words.

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 6:

THE FINAL FOREVER

J. LEE ROBERTS

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 6: THE FINAL FOREVER

Copyright © DECEMBER 2020 J. LEE ROBERTS

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This is for all my fans, and to the amazing literary staff and artist at Luminosity Publishing.

Thank you all for breathing life into Catalina.

CHAPTER ONE

Pink and periwinkle, cotton candy clouds drift past the majestic mountain range in the distance. A blade of grass tickles my nose and I swat at it, clearing the way for an unobstructed view of my target. I hear an irritated grunt and the rustle of grass as Dorian shimmies his way up next to me. I lie silently in wait, belly down, my heart pounding against the cold earth.

Is this our life now? Crawling through the dirt, lying with our faces in the grass hours on end, while you wait for something to happen? Dorian complains, possibly for the millionth time.

I think it’s wonderful here, James adds dreamily, and I sigh knowing how fortunate I am that this man loves me.

I’ll admit that he hasn’t quite settled into his new guise yet. You see, when he drank from Odin’s magical horn, effectively turning him into something like me, his entire genetic makeup was altered. As you can imagine, it can be rather jarring and take some getting used to.

Long ago, when I recast Dorian from a shipwrecked Viking, into a stealthy Succubus, his most dominant attributes; violence, brute strength, and passion, shone forth almost immediately. With James, well . . . he became everything I ever wanted even though I didn’t know it. He is utterly sweet, caring, and completely devoted, plus a few unexpected emotions. Take now, for instance, the boys insisted on getting out of the house to join me on my latest acquisition. I had warned them that a stakeout like this could take hours, possibly days, but they had been determined to come regardless of my assurance that this type of work is not for everyone.

Personally, I rather enjoy James’s take on the operation. Rather than grunting and grumbling about the current situation nonstop as Dorian has been doing, James lies easily on his back, enjoying the amazing array of pinks and blues the sunset is displaying. I watch as he plucks a small, yellow wildflower from the meadow and intensely stares into its depths. His face morphs in awe at what his newly betokened powers can perceive. From experience, I know he is seeing the complete molecular makeup of each individual petal in its timeless struggle to maintain form. It’s all rather boring and childish to Dorian, but I’m loving the innocence and wonder I see in James’s eyes. Contrary to Dorian’s murmured dissent, I know the brawn and determination behind James’s loving demeanor will come out to play when the time is right.

A grand valley stretches out below us. Patches of snow dot the green meadow, relentlessly clinging to winter’s hold. The contrast of frost and flowers is not what brings us here today. Nor is it the magnificent event that is transpiring in the valley below. You see, today is the Dance of Champions. Or at least that’s how it translates from ancient Russian.

A vicious snarl echoes off the distant mountains, dragging James’s attention to the wonders happening before us. Why must they be so brutal? he asks, cringing as an enormous paw slashes at its adversary. In any other situation, the saber-toothed tiger’s four-inch claws would have shredded its victim’s flesh, right from the bones. However, Samira is a seasoned fighter and just at the last moment she deftly spins away and pounces on her inimitable opponent’s back, digging all four sets of her razor-sharp claws into his tawny hide. The surprise attack entices an anguished cry from her prey. James covers his hyper-sensitive ears at the sound and I instantly regret bringing him along.

Don’t be so childless, James, this is just a game. It’s all in good . . . but before Dorian can finish his sentence Samira, sinks her eight-inch, blade-like fangs into the challenger’s neck and brutally shakes the life out of her prehistoric opponent. A roar of applause, mingled with unrestrained animal calls, roll through the valley as Samira proudly strides over to the victors’ circle. Taking her final step onto the podium, she seamlessly transforms into a muscular, yet petite humanoid. A valet covers her bare, brown flesh with the winner’s robe as other officials place garlands of 24-karat, golden flowers around her neck, and a grand trophy into her hands.

This is the fifth of such ceremonies we had witnessed today. First up were the woolly mammoths. Plenty of brawn and brute force, but as Dorian had so eloquently mentioned not much blood. That battle had been more suited toward the event’s namesake. A true dance, for each contestant, stamped and tramped displaying their agility and grace or as much as one can expect from a massive, shaggy goliath. The woolly mammoth fray had concluded with a forfeiture. The inferior shapeshifter decided they would rather end the bout in disgrace than to be gored with an enormous ivory tusk. The next mêlée was between two presumably extinct, giant land sloths. Though they were much quicker than today’s tree sloths, and much more visually impressive they too were not quite interesting enough to entice Dorian’s appreciation. It was when James suggested we try to take one home as a pet that we finally lost Dorian to the admiration of his manicured nails. In fact, it was only after the announcement of the impending battle between two vicious Andrewsarchus that something finally piqued his interest.

Thirty-five million years ago this monstrous predator ruled the land. The fierce wolf-like Andrewsarchus, had razor-sharp teeth, long agile body frames, and brawny physiques. It’s no wonder why so many Siberian shifters over the years have chosen its form for this prestigious contest. Although the battle was vicious and bloody, it ended way too quickly to stay Dorian’s attention for long. The spectators agreed with his sentiments and howled wildly in disparity. The champion had all too quickly and ferociously torn through her opponent in a flash of teeth and claws, to no surprise of the unimpressed party. And so for this reason, the saber-toothed tiger event was held last. The stealthy feline’s determination and precision always made for a good show and today’s contest did not disappoint.

Witnessing a profusion of blood and gore was not the objective of this mission. Today, we came for the prize. After much pomp and even more circumstance the award ceremony finally wrapped up and we discreetly followed our target into the snow-covered peaks of the Altai Mountains, which hugged the borders of Western Mongolia, Eastern Kazakhstan, and Southern Russia.

Tracking our quarry on foot, left us at a disadvantage. Although we were running at an impossible rate, the saber-toothed tiger’s speed could not be beaten. Fortunately, her massive paws were easy to spot in the slushy snow, but even they soon disappeared.

We stopped to assess our bearings, taking in the feline’s unmistakable scent which saturated the cool crisp air.

That’s the last of them, Dorian said, running back to us. His scouting mission had revealed what I had feared and expected. We were no longer the hunters. Her tracks are unnecessary. I can smell her easily enough, Dorian said, urging us forward.

I’m not worried about losing her. The sudden disappearance of her prints can only mean that she has turned the tide and is now stalking us, I said scanning the horizon.

You’re right, Cat, the winds have shifted and if we can smell her, she can most certainly smell us, James said, releasing a handful of dry grass into the gentle breeze.

Why again are we following this newborn’s directions? No offense, James.

None taken, James retorted, under his breath.

You’re still adjusting to your new powers and well . . . it can be tricky, Dorian explained.

James is heading this venture because he is an experienced hunter and as you said yourself, Dorian, his senses are brand new and improved, which means they are much stronger, and much more acute than ours, I said, scanning our surroundings.

We had just entered a narrow valley. The soft grass-covered earth was being taken over by large, flat stones. Relics of massive boulders which had fallen from the steep, rocky, mountains surrounding us. It was the perfect topography for hiding one’s tracks. One could easily hop from rock to rock without ever having to make contact with the soft pliable ground.

We can’t be sure she’s on to us. This may be where she always fades into the scenery. I mean saber-toothed tigers are not supposed to exist anymore, Dorian said, though he still searched the shadows.

You’re right, James acknowledged, let’s keep going while her scent is fresh. Stay sharp, both of you, we don’t want to get ambushed. We followed James deep into the wilderness, climbing higher and higher into the steep mountains and darkening sky. Halting our movement, James abruptly announced, It’s gone.

Impossible, Dorian replied, though we both knew James was right.

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