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!
Science fiction romance is replete with aliens abducting the unprepared human female and blasting into space towards an unknown destination. Sound fun? I think not. But the concept of a handsome, hunky alien whisking the unsuspecting human female to parts unknown does have its appeal. That is, if the alien is a hunky, handsome male! 
“I hate to break it to you Mr. Romantic, but I haven’t been in here dreaming of the moment you storm through the door and ravage my trembling body.” She heaved a sigh damning poor timing and unrelieved sexual tension. “The only thing I want ravaging my body right now is that bed and about three rotations of uninterrupted sleep.”
In secret dreams, women imagine being taken by handsome, dashing warriors (mostly Scottish Highlanders) who whisk them away to a life of passion and overwhelming love. They marry and live happily ever after! Or do they? In reality, being kidnapped by a desperate male isn't what romance authors make it up to be. 
