Backup Plan (Spaceport) by Shelby Morgen #scifiromance

Backup Plan (Spaceport Multi-Author 32)

Cover Art by Renee George

 

When Dr. Ruth Balise ran out of funding for her research, she had no idea the twisted path her work would take. Her psychiatric profile adjustment was supposed to be more humane — a way to render violent sociopaths and the criminally insane harmless to themselves and others.

But in a black-market society where medical miracles are for sale to the highest bidder, a death sentence is far too wasteful. Why settle for just one replacement body part, when you can own the whole thing? Prisoners are maintained in semi-stasis, their memories wiped, the cost of their physical care sponsored by aging aristocrats, hosts for future replacement organs.

After all, they’re just bodies — empty shells. Pod fuck-bunnies, their monitors call them, living in an endless loop of sex, drugged with their own endorphins into a constant state of euphoria, their bodies maintained in prime health. They’re not supposed to wake up — ever — and they’re certainly not supposed to escape.

Now Ruth is one of them, and only Panama Red, the space pirate turned bodyguard who’s out to rescue Ruth, can save her. But will he still be willing to trust her with his heart, once he knows she engineered this hell?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 28th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Shelby Morgen

I’m coming! I wanted to scream. Those were the right words, that much I was sure of, but I knew better. No one screamed here. I held it all inside. Even as the orgasm ripped through me I wondered — somewhat cynically, I’ll admit — was it possible to get bored with sex?

I’d never had thoughts like these. Not until… hell, I realized I’d had no concept of time. That is, I did now, but before…

Something was happening to me. Something was changing.

No, not something. Me. I was changing. My mind was… waking up. The faceless body before me writhed, screaming soundlessly, and the final release tore through me, bathing me in the flood of pleasure that had always before brought these churning thoughts to a tumultuous end.

Release. Blissful sleep. The fulfillment of a promise…

Ha. Make that hard work. Hot, sweaty sex. A partner well pleasured. Then sleep. Then on to the next rotation.

The harder, heavier body of the other… whatever it was… groaned, wrapping itself around me, almost smothering with its weight and heat. I’d never minded before. That was the reward for a job well done. Release. Euphoria. Malaised contentment.

So why was I awake? Why was I fighting the urge to push the other off me?

I opened my… my eyes, yes. I opened my eyes and fought to focus, rapidly learning how to adjust for the closeness of the body before me. Saw the mouth. The mouth I had kissed. The lips I had bitten, now bruised and swollen from our passion. The contented smile. The…

Blankness.

Revulsion swept through me, stronger than any orgasm. The thing might as well have been an inflatable doll. No sign of intelligence. No sign of anything at all. It was — he was — just a mouth. And a cock.

Or maybe I’d had it right the first time. It.

And what made me any different? Other than my lack of a cock? Until two rotations ago, I’d been little more. A mouth and a cunt.

Cunt. Somehow I knew the word was coarse, crude. Beneath me. And I liked the sound of it. Forbidden fruit. I smiled, placed my hands on the cock’s shoulders, and pushed. Hard.

Arms tightened around me, clamping down like steel bands. “You’re awake!”

“Let go of me.”

“Keep your voice down. Don’t move. Shut your eyes. And smile!”

All right. He. A lunatic, but gods, he had gorgeous eyes. The color of precious minerals, deep cobalt, flecked with gold. Still. “Get the blyat off me.”

“Hush! You just had the best sex of your life. Smile!”

“Arrogant prick!”

“Do you want to get us killed? We’re not supposed to be awake, damn it.” He smothered my reply with his mouth, giving my rapidly emerging vocabulary time to catch up.

Killed. Past tense of kill.

Death.

Dead.

I understood the concept well enough to quit fighting. I tore his words apart like my guide to the mystery they were. We’re not supposed… Soooo. Wherever we were, whoever we were — both concepts seemed new, yet familiar — there were rules. We’d — I’d — been asleep, at least on some level. Now I was awake.

Awake was bad.

 

More from Shelby Morgen at Changeling Press …

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

 

Kidnapping the Cyborg by Anne Kane #scifi #cyborgs #cyberpunk #futuristic @AnneKane

Kidnapping the Cyborg (Terras Five 6)

Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Plan: Seduce the Cyborg, kidnap him and force him to help her escape. What could possibly go wrong?

Life in the breeders enclave on Terras Five was comfortable. Safe. Boring! Abigail wanted more. She wanted to explore the galaxy, have a career, enjoy all the freedoms that a human female took for granted. In order to do that she needed to get off-planet, and in order to accomplish that, she needed help. Male help.

She had a plan.

Jackson was flattered that the young female chose him to sire her offspring, and he was more than willing to play his part and make sure she enjoyed the experience as much as he did. What he wasn’t prepared for was being kidnapped at weapons point and forced to help the young breeder escape. Of course, he could have disarmed her and foiled her plan, but where’s the fun in that?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for Januar 10th at Retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Anne Kane

Abigail stretched languidly on the circular sleeping platform, making sure the male Cyborg got a generous eyeful of her luscious curves. She hadn’t counted on this, counted on it being him, the incredibly sexy male she’d met so long ago. Then again this wasn’t really a bad thing. The attraction she felt for him would make it easier to go through with her plan.

His name was Jackson. Jackson Firestorm. She’d almost snorted her drink out through her nose when she read that on the choices sheet. In a way, the absurdity of his family name was the reason she’d chosen him from the six breeding options presented for her approval.

Of course, she hadn’t realized she’d already met Jackson Firestorm. Or that she’d had a crush on him since she’d been a child. She only knew him as the Cyborg who’d appeared out of nowhere to save her and her friends.

Would he remember the wide-eyed girl child he’d plucked from the wreckage of the crashed spaceship? To him, she would have been just one more orphan who needed help, but to her he’d been a hero, larger than life. He’d saved her life and that of her crèche mates. She’d developed an immediate crush. As a youngling, she’d spent many hours daydreaming about the deliciously sexy Cyborg.

Jackson slid the entrance to the cubicle closed with a soft click, his eyes darkening as they swept over her lounging figure.

She curved her lips up in a smile, trying to look more confident than she felt. She’d never done this before, never joined with a male. Until this very moment, she hadn’t considered what effect that would have on her plan.

Last moon cycle, she’d hacked into the breeder database and altered her records to show that she’d already had several lovers. If the powers that be had known this was her first coupling, they would have insisted on sending her an older male, one with enough experience to ease her into the breeder lifestyle, make it a glowing experience.

That didn’t fit her needs at all. She needed a male she could dupe into lowering his guard. A younger male, one who would let lust overrule his Cyborg training and naturally cautious nature. At least, that was the plan.

 

More from Anne Kane at Changeling Press …

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.