P.L. Parker

P.L. Parker

Monday, May 8, 2017

Monday Morsel

Like SciFi?  Romance?  Sequels?  BREEDER SLAVE sequel to The Chalice.

He was her salvation...or her destruction.

Monday Morsel:

“Not very inviting,” Leah commented as she scrutinized the dismal scenery flashing below.
“You think this is bad,” Amber chuckled. The edges of her prosthetic nose wrinkled. “What until you catch a whiff of the unwashed multitudes. Stench’ll make you want to gag. At least up here all you have to deal with is the ugly.”
“I dinnae like stinky,” Moira grumbled as she picked at the large snout Amber forced her to wear. Cupid’s bow lips pressed together in a girly scowl. “It’s bad enough we have tae go down there, but holding my breath the whole time will make it even harder tae bear—and this thing on my face itches like the bejesus!
“You look more like a Deg’Nara with it on and you can’t hold your breath the whole time,” Leah grinned, “unless you plan on staying there permanently.”
“I dinnae plan tae stay there any time at all,” Moira retorted. She dropped a bundle of cloth to the deck. “And I dinnae want tae wear that smelly cape again.”
“You. Have. To. Wear. It.” Amber pronounced each word succinctly. “I’ve told you before, Deg’Nara females seldom travel alone and never if they’re part of the upper echelon. I’m supposed to be a Deg’Nara Commander and it would be unheard of for me to travel without my entourage. There’s no getting around that fact. If this were a perfect plan, I’ve have a dozen butt kissers following me around, but we don’t have the manpower and I can’t risk pulling any more crew members from the Ejupa.”
  Leah picked up the disgusting cloak, grimacing to herself as she handed it to Moira. “Buck up little cowgirl. If this is the worst you have to endure from here on out, it’s a good trade.”
            “Why dinnae you wear it?” With great reluctance, Moira took the offending object and gingerly eased it on.
            “Because I’m the slave and I don’t have to…er… get to wear anything so important looking.”
            Leah adjusted the cloth around Moira’s face, taking time to tuck each errant red curl well back into the scarf covering the smaller woman’s head. When she was satisfied none of Moira’s coppery locks were visible, she draped the hood lower until there was little left to see of the diminutive female to alert interested bystanders of her human origins. Perfect! 

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