Happily Ever After or Not?

Happily Ever After or Not? Current mood: annoyed Category: Writing and Poetry   ..  I write Adventurous Romance. That means, at least to me, the heroine and the hero are thrown into danger, intrigue, harrowing escapes, monsters, betrayal, suspicion, disaster and so forth.  They run, they fight, they hide and they sometimes distrust each other. But each and every time, they discover that they are the ones they can trust in. The hero discovers that no matter what happened, he can rely on the heroine. She learns that no matter how badly things have gone, the heroine is able to trust the hero. By the end of the book, The monster has been destroyed; The villain has been defeated; All is right with the world; and The hero and the heroine live happily ever after. Some how that seems to be changing. The other day I was reading a book that was heralded and reviewed as a romance. It was Urban Fantasy and both the location where I bought it online and the numerous reviews I read of the book before I bought it touted it as a romance.  (No, I am not going to tell you the author, the name of the book or the place I bought it.) The book was exciting. The plot was a page-turner. I stayed up until 2 AM reading it. The hero was dashing, handsome, tortured, heroic, all the things you want in a hero. The heroine was heroic, strong, self-assured, independent, learning to rely on the hero, growing, opening up, becoming less of a pain in the ass and more of the love of the heroe’s life, in other words, everything you want in a romance heroine. I wanted to finish the book – I had to finish the book. I had to see how everything turned out. ..Everything Went to Crap. The hero was killed. The heroine was mentally and physically destroyed. The object of the adventure was taken away and not rescued. The villain disappeared, not defeated, and not destroyed. The bad guys won, the good guys lost. Now, I will admit, perhaps this is a book that is supposed to be the beginning of a series, sort of like the Star Wars saga. But I was terribly disappointed with the ending. The adventure throughout the book was great but the ending ruined the entire book for me. I want a happy ending when I read. Life, the Universe, and Everything (with a nod to Douglas Adams) gives me enough of bad endings. If I want heroes to die, all I have to do is listen to the news. The same thing for the bad guys winning – listen to the news. I want my heroes to stomp the daylights out of the bad guys. I want my heroines to be taking a deep breath of contentment when everything is said and done. I don’t want my heroine to be left crying her eyes out feeling bereft and alone when the book says The End. What about you? Do you want your romances to be reflective of real life – as in the good guys do not always win and the bad guys walk away untouched? Or do you want a Happy Ever After in your romance?

Stone of Cruento Reviewed – Yea!

Stone of Cruento reviewed by Simply Romance Reviews

Stone of Cruento reviewed by Simply Romance Yea!

Stone of Cruento

Charlene Leatherman

Cerridwen Press

May 2008

ISBN: 9781419916984

Fantasy

Order from Cerridwen Press

Synopsis:

Claren Maxwell felt she was misplaced, like she belonged somewhere else. Even as a vampire she was not like the others. Claren didn’t like to kill. She avoided intimacy with human men. It was too dangerous. Claren wanted to fit in. She wanted to be loved and protected. So she dreamed, but the dreams were becoming too real. She dreamt of three men. In real life she would have to choose one, right?The three men in her dreams materialize. Belgretor, a giant of a man from Cruento, protects her. Daniel is a vampire from Earth who desires her. Jamros is a centaur from Cruento who is drawn to her by destiny. Together the four of them must find a way to stop the destruction of Earth and Cruento.Can Claren choose between the three men she loves while saving the worlds she inadvertently put in jeopardy?

Lynda of Simply Romance Reviews gives Stone of Cruento the SRR GRADE: A

Vampires, goblins, centaurs….a vastly different alternate reality, that’s what you get from the Stone of Cruento. I loved the depth of the characterization and the story building in this riveting fantasy.Claren was a vampire but not the same as other vampires. Repeated dreams of three men and love only served to make her desire a love of her own. Though attracted to vampire Daniel, she doesn’t trust him and resists his charm. Her constant companion is Belgretor but she has yet to learn his full potential, and then there is the prophecy.One plot twist after another with love, sex, intrigue, back stabbing centaurs, you name it this story delivers.

Charlene Leatherman weaves this story tighter than a rug and hands us a story that will leave us breathless and hoping for more.The Stone of Cruento is a great story and so much more. Claren has to juggle the relationship of three totally different beings let alone men while being in the middle of a prophecy she has no idea about. This is just excellent story telling. Don’t hesitate to pick up this exceptional book. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Lovac followed the trail with ease. Like most lionesses, this one did not give him much of a challenge. He sighed. Except for the entertainment of the audience Lovac didn’t see the need for the hunt at all. It would be easier on him and the lionesses if they just threw them in a room and recorded their sex act. A different type of entertainment, probably not one that the people would want to broadcast to an audience filled with children. Better to have the thrill of the hunt ended with copulation.

Still, he thought the way the lioness looked at him at the starting gate she would have given him a greater challenge. She was not hiding her tracks at all. He didn’t have to look for the bent blade of grass or search for the gentle press of a foot print. This lioness wanted him to follow her, wanted him to catch her, and wanted him to bed her.

Or so Lovac thought.

He pulled up short when the tracks took on a decidedly different feel. Instead of being hard footed and obvious, the lioness began to step softly. The tread became lighter and lighter until no one except a trained hunter like he was could have followed the trail. Lovac knelt beside a single bent sprig of grass, the only sign the lioness passed by.

“What are you up to, my pretty?” Lovac asked no one in particular and everyone on the broadcast feed. He followed the barely noticeable trail to the edge of forest next to a tunnel of some sort.

Lovac had never been in this part of the hunting field before. He saw delicate, soft tracks near the cave-like entrance. He  also saw the deep claw marks on the tree limbs as though a large cat had scrabbled up the tree in a hurry.

“Exactly what you want me to think,” Lovac whispered. One of his requirements as a participant in the ‘Hunt’ was to make sure the audience was aware of his deductions. “Yet, these prints near this…this tunnel seem a bit too convenient as well. Where are you, my pretty?”

 

Zna rankled when he called her his ‘pretty’. She had a name. She was introduced to him, yet he continued to view her as a piece of property. From her hiding place above the Hole she watched the hunter stand and look around. He was better than she thought. Better than other hunters she encountered.

Better looking too. Zna let her eyes swing over the hunter below her. What is my attraction? Zna smiled to herself. Besides the broad chest, and narrow hips. He is muscular. I wonder what it would be like to have his arms wrapped around me? My legs wrapped around him. Zna caught herself. His pheromones must be extremely high. I want to crawl down from this tree and make him mine. From what I hear he is quite a stud.

Zna swallowed her feelings. Bescjen is my only concern. Besides, his is a hunter. I am a lioness. No matter what my body desires I have to stay focused.

 She had to wait until he stepped into the entrance of the Hole following her fake foot steps. Then she could push him through its mouth. It would take him more than thirty ticks to get out of the Hole, even if he was only at the mouth. Doing it that way, she would be free of the Hole and would achieve her lead. The mouth of the Hole would not do Lovac a tremendous amount of harm, merely delay him. She did not want to push him deeper, nor did she want to follow him into the Hole. It would mean possible death for him and the end of her winning the hunt. It would take too long to get out of it. Bescjen would be in jeopardy.

Zna tensed, ready to pounce.

 

Lovac raised his head, sniffing the air. He was a skilled hunter. He followed tracks that no other hunter could. He shot truer and knew traps from superbly simple to agonizingly complex. He knew a trap when he saw one. He also knew scents.

He was looking at a trap. He smelled the scent of a lioness.

His pheromones were biologically enhanced. One of the reasons he was a preferred stud was that the lionesses were attracted to him by scent. For some reason, this lioness, this Zna, resisted him. She played the game of making him think she wanted him, leaving well defined tracks. Then, at the mouth of this…cave, her method changed.

Lovac backed away from the blackness facing him. He slung his rifle over his shoulder. The weapon was armed with two kinds of ammunition. The first was a marking pellet. It would mark Zna showing that he captured her. The second type of bullet was a tranquilizer. It wouldn’t put her to sleep. What amusement would that give? It would relax her and make her willing to accept his mating with her. Most of the lionesses he hunted never needed the second bullet. Lovac couldn’t remember when he fired a second bullet.

Looking around the trees that edged the clearing he stood in, Lovac wondered if he would need the second bullet this time. Would he need  a real bullet, one that killed? Would she be one of the lionesses that attempted to kill her hunter? It happened rarely, but it happened. Most of the time, death during a hunt was of the lioness. Hunters, poor hunters, got carried away with adrenaline and the lionesses scent. The feline woman was beaten to death.

 Lovac gave a bitter laugh. Another thing that was destroying the true beauty of the Hunt. The government gave hunters carte blanche. They could kill lionesses with immunity. Unconsciously he reached for the knife in the sheath at his belt.

Was she one of the ones that refused to give in to the government? According to her profile she has not been mated since she was inducted into the Hunt.  Lovac racked his brain trying to remember if any of the hunters had been injured or killed. He had not read the file on Zna as he should have. He committed a cardinal sin of hunters. He did not know his enemy.

A bird flew out of a tree nearby jerking Lovac back to the Hole. He scanned the tree line and saw nothing that indicated a lioness. Either she was gone through the trees like her deep claw marks indicated, or she was hiding in the trees watching him. Lovac did not believe that she went into the cave in front of him.

Cave. Tunnel. Neither name seemed appropriate. He could admit he was whipped and communicate to the Handlers for information about this area of the hunt zone.  He had not traveled to this location before. It was an unknown. And he was led here.

Lovac put his hand into the darkness of the cave mouth. In a normal cave, he would see his hand in the shadows. He would see the gradation from light to dark on his skin. He didn’t. His hand simply disappeared. Lovac pulled his hand back. It was his hand, unharmed. Yet when he put his hand into the darkness it was as if his arm ended at his wrist.

Backing from the cave Lovac searched around the ground for a long branch. He found one and moved to the darkness. He stuck the branch into the darkness about three feet into the darkness.

Nothing, just the illusion that the stick ended where the darkness began.

Suddenly something took hold of the stick and tugged. The branch was pulled out of Lovac’s hands. He jumped back, bringing his rifle forward in one fluid motion. Whatever was in the darkness would not be hurt with the bullets he carried, but maybe he could slow them down. If it was the lioness he would fire twice rapidly, subduing her.  He was tired of this game she played. He wanted to get the mating done and get back to his quiet life.

 

Zna bit her lip to keep from growling in anger. The hunter was not supposed to test the Hole. He was supposed to walk in, following her steps. Her whiskers twitched as she tried to decide her next course to take.

 

“Lovac,” the Handler’s name spoke over the com-link the hunter wore at his ear.

“Here,” Lovac answered. It was voice activated. He did not move his hands from his rifle. It was useless against a real attack, but it made him feel better as he stared at the darkness that swallowed the branch.

“I took the com off line. The audience is getting restless. Do something.”

“Give me a reading on that,” Lovac nodded his head toward the darkness.

“Are you giving up?” the voice on the other end asked. “I don’t think I have ever heard you ask for a reading.”

“You said we were off line, right?” Lovac waited for the assent. “Give me a reading on that cave or you will be my next target. I won’t have these useless tranquilizer bullets either.”

Lovac smiled as the pause on the other end lengthened beyond the normal for checking equipment.

“Mister Lovac,” the voice of the Handler was respectful and wavering. Lovac heard the voice of the Handler’s supervisor in the background. Lovac was valuable. He was not to be mocked. “According to the readout, there is nothing there.”

“Can you see what I am looking at?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you still tell me there is nothing there?”

“I can see the…the whatever it is, but according to the scanners nothing is there.”

“A hologram?”

“No,sir. Just nothing. It’s like there is a hole in the universe where nothing is. Not even anti-matter like a black hole. Just nothing.”

Lovac took in a deep breath. “Where is the lioness?”

 

Zna heard the hunter talking to the Handlers. They were off-line according to what she heard. No audio, no vid for the audience. Probably some kind of government announcement going on. And they were going to pinpoint her location in just a second.  She had to act, now.

Screeching from her perch, Zna leapt for the hunter. She angled her leap and landed square on his back. She sank her claws into the heavy jacket Lovac wore. The hunter rolled as she knew he would. Instead of trying to gain purchase and get to her feet to fight, Zna used the momentum of the roll to continue forward. She pushed with her back legs and her tail and shoved. Zna and Lovac rolled into the  Hole.

 

“Lovac? Lovac? Come in. Lovac? What in the name of the Spirits is going on?” the Handler’s voice shouted over the com-link that was knocked off Lovac’s ear as he and Zna fought. The handler looked at his supervisor. One moment he had readings on the hunter and the lioness. The next they were gone. Not moved. Simply gone. The scanner said there was no one there, only a space of nothing.

His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham

His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham

I hope you will allow me to introduce you to the romance of Regency and Georgian England.

Romance means many different things to so many different people. A glance, a word, just a little unexpected gesture, all have the power to charm. In Regency and Georgian times when young girls were chaperoned in almost every situation, the language of the fan was used to convey messages to would-be suitors and lovers. Hearts could be broken across the space of a ballroom if a lady’s gestures were not favourable.

There were fans for every occasion and the owners lost no chance to wield them to their advantage. A fan placed close to the heart means I love you. A half-opened fan pressed to the lips – you may kiss me. The fan resting on the left cheek, means no, the right cheek, yes. However, there are many gestures and all are not favourable, for example a fan held over the left ear means I wish to be rid of you.
Gentlemen, not to be outdone, often resorted to the language of flowers to express their feelings and whether it be a single flower or a huge bouquet, the message would be clear. There appears to be a flower for every emotion, Acacia – Secret love, Ambrosia – Love returned, Anemone – Unfading love, Arbutus – Only love. Not only did they show love, but withered flowers show rejected love.
These are just a few examples of the messages that could be conveyed by these methods but give you some idea of how love could be lost or won without a word being spoken.

Introducing Guest Author Hazel Statham

Let Me Introduce Guest Blogger and Author Hazel Statham

Hazel Statham will be gracing us with a visit during her Virtual Blog Tour during the month of July. She will be talking about her lastest book

His Shadowed Heart

Here is a blurb:

Can a shadowed heart be healed? Can love grow where least expected? The Earl of Waverly believes not. How wrong can he be!

After the death of his wife, the Earl of Waverly, believing his heart irreparably damaged, enters into a marriage of convenience. However, he is not prepared for the healing influence his new young bride has on his life.

Despite the couple’s new-found happiness, nefarious deeds abound and strange happenings are attributed to the ghost of his former wife. Will their love stand the test or will the perpetrator emerge the victor?

Let me introduce Hazel:

Hazel lives in Staffordshire, England. She started writing at fifteen and has written on and off ever since. She has always been fascinated by history, especially the Regency and Georgian eras and it is the romance and elegance of these times that she tries to recreate in her work.
When she was a child, she often told herself stories and this just progressed to committing them to paper to entertain family and friends. There have however, been gaps in her writing years where marriage and employment intervened, but now that she no longer works, she is able to return to her first love and devote her time to writing. She had her first two novels published in 2005.

She has been married to her husband Terry since 1969 and they have a grown daughter and beautiful grandson. Apart from reading and writing historical novels, her other ruling passion is animals and until recently, she was treasurer for an organization that raised money for animal charities.She currently shares her home with two lovely yellow Labradors named Lucy and Mollie, who are her constant companions. Mollie is a recent addition to the family and at five-months-old is keeping everyone on their toes.

Serial Novel – the Hunt

 

The lioness sniffed the air. Lovac was near. Zna slowed him down by giving him a false scent trail to follow. The hunter was fooled for only one hundred ticks or so, but it was enough for her to find what she was looking for.

The only way she would be able to keep the thirty tick advantage Mister required would be to run the hunter through the ‘Hole’. Most lionesses did not want to risk the hole. Most hunters didn’t either. The Ministry did not have vids that could follow into the area. If she and the hunter went into the hole, the only way the audience would be able to follow the hunt would be through the biological cameras imbedded in each of their skins. It would be less exciting than watching the big bad hunter chase the sensual exotic lioness, but it would serve her purpose. Mister did not say he needed a good show. He only needed a thirty tick advantage.

Zna raised her head to the wind. Her whiskers twitched. Lovac was nearing.

This hunter is good. I wonder if he is good in bed as well. Spirit Leana, what am I saying? Zna snorted in derision. Of course he is good in bed. Has a high sperm count as well I bet. Otherwise he wouldn’t be the most successful hunter. I wonder how many lionesses have simply let him catch them. I wonder how many half-breeds he has sired.

Zna walked into the mouth of the hole. She could only take a few steps without it closing around her. She only needed to take a few steps into it to accomplish what she wanted. Pressing down with her foot, allowing her claws to sink into the soft ground, Zna made a foot print. She then stepped away from the track into the hole. Moving to the side the lioness again stepped into the soft soil. This time the prints barely made any impression. She moved several steps forward into the hole in this manner.

Leaping with all the strength she could muster, claws extended, Zna caught hold of the edge of the hole. The ‘Hole’ was really a cave entrance. About fifty steps into the cave was a field that was black. No light penetrated it. No sound came from the cave. Lionesses and hunters alike who passed through the field were lost for hours at a time. Very rarely did the biological cameras record anything but darkness. The times the cameras did, the images were erratic, frightening, and bloody and filled with sounds that came from the depth of hell itself. The lionesses and hunters that came out of the Hole were never the same. Some went insane. Some simply didn’t care what happened to themselves. Others became violent and uncontrollable. Then there were the ones that made it back whole.

Zna had a secret. She knew what was on the other side of the field and how to battle it. Her mate and she had ventured into the hole when they were young. Stupid, foolish, dangerous, and very informative. As far she knew, no one else, lion or hunter, had ever gone into the hole.

Zna never ventured into the hole during a hunt. She never needed to. All Mister needed on previous hunts was for her to avoid being caught and mated. This time he wanted a thirty tick advantage.

For Bescjen’s sake I have to lead the hunter here. I don’t like what it does to people, but I can’t risk not having the thirty tick lead and losing Bescjen. I will emerge unscathed. Lovac will not.

Finishing her leap from the leading edge of the cave into the trees above, Zna scratched first one then another and then another tree further and further from the hole. the scratches were deep and obvious. Moving among the branches without a sound, Zna moved back to the first tree she leapt into. She pulled herself into a small package, curling her tail around her body, crouching on a smallish limb. her breathing slowed to less than a whisper. She watched, waiting for the hunter to come, to show himself, to fall into her trap. The lioness waited for her prey.

Adventure Peril and Intrigue All Day Long June 18th

Adventure Peril and Intrigue All Day Long June 18

I am co-hosting Danger Zone Theme Day on Catanetwork Message Board on June 18. It’s an all day marathon where you can come read some excerpts from authors of Action and Adventure novels. You’ll have a chance to ask questions, participate in contests, and discover that perfect book for your summer reading.
Authors, if you write Action, Adventure, Suspense, Thrillers, and everything that makes the reader’s pulse race, then stop by and share some of your work.
You have to register first, so be sure to do that today so you will be able to participate in the Theme Day first thing Wednesday, June 18th. The link to the registeration form is
http://ping.fm/gk9sI

Look forward to seeing you there!

Zna Menita – the Serial continues

Zna moved, twisted first one way then the next, stretching in preparation for the hunt to begin. There always seemed to be something that delayed the beginning of the hunt. Sometimes it seemed the broadcasters did something purposefully to increase their viewers. Suspense! Anticipation! All the elements of drawing in a larger audience. She glanced at the hunter, Lovac. He seemed as nervous and edgy as she was. Zna wondered what went through a hunter’s mind prehunt. She slightly shook her head. No, she didn’t wonder what went through hunters’ minds, only this hunter’s mind. She watched as the referees discussed something in low tones. She caught herself just before she reached for the key Tosca gave her. She couldn’t give away the location of the key.

The Minister of the Hunt appeared on the floating vidscreen hovering over the starting gate.

“We at the Ministry of the Hunt regret to announce that due to the lack of audience each night, we must cut back on expenses. As such we will be eliminating certain positions.”

Tosca and the other Handlers walked quietly onto the staging platform. Tosca had a look of resignation on his face, uncovered by his mask. The other Handlers looked confused, a little frightened. The referees moved away from the platform.

A light flashed brilliantly.

Zna blinked, partly at the light, partly to keep the tears from falling. Her feline eyes adjusted to the light immediately. She knew the humans, the referees, the hunter, all were blinded for several seconds. They did not see the bodies destroyed, disintegrated by the light ray. Rather they only saw the empty platform when the light cleared.

“We no longer need the Handlers. They have been transferred to another place,” The Minister announced over the vidscreen .

Zna heard the humans in the audience murmur in understanding. Those standing on the platform had been moved from one place to another place where they would be useful. Zna resisted the urge to extend her claws, leap into the audience and rip the throats out of the people. They are so stupid. They choose not to see the truth. Some day the government will turn on them. Leana will have her revenge someday.

 The Minister of the Hunt bade everyone a good night. The vidscreen shimmered and changed to the view of the first lap of the hunt. Cheery lights and popular music danced around the staging area.

The hunt was about to begin.

A Rose By Any Other Name Continues

A Rose By Any Other Name continues

Lovac rolled his shoulders, stretching, readying himself for the hunt. He despised what the government called entertainment. The hunt was a tradition centuries old. His father and grandfather were hunters. In the old days, a hunter sought a lioness, pursued her then if he captured her he was given the right to compete against the lions for her attentions. It was the way of Dyad to keep the gene pool level between the feline based humanoids and the covjecji, or the non-lion humans.
Female covjecji used to hunt with the lionesses, bringing game to the lions to compete for the attentions of the male feline. The government stopped the female covs, as they were called, from hunting. Human females could only mate with human males.
Lovac watched as the gene pool became weaker. It had been ten years since a healthy baby was born to a totally covjecji couple. Dyad was simply not meant to have the species separated. Lion and cov were meant to compete, to couple, to mate. It was the way the Ancients planned it. The Spirit of Dyad, Leana was pictured as a woman with the head of a lion. The two species combined.
The government changed the way it was meant to be. The government chose blood-thirsty hunters out of the thousands of registered hunters. They sent the men out to destroy the lions. Wiped out hundreds of lions. Orphaned thousands of cubs and widowed hundreds of lionesses.
Probably took the husband of the beautiful lioness standing before him. She certainly held the look of hatred in her eyes.
The government also took advantage of the mating instincts of the lionesses. The female felines were almost driven to mate. The powers that be wanted to keep the lion gene pool unchanged. They wanted the lioness to mate with the covs.

Lovac didn’t know the reason why, he didn’t care.

The government also wanted the process broadcast over the moon-wide holovision.
Lovac took a deep breath. He hadn’t been given a choice. If he had he certainly would not have chosen to be part of some twisted Minister’s idea of entertainment. His father, in his old age, became a prolific gambler. Lost everything his family ever owned. Lost more than everything. The government took Lovac as a young man and enslaved him. He could have run, but the government still had his mother and sister as hostage. If he didn’t hunt, the Ministers would kill his mother and sister. So, Lovac hunted. And he hunted a lot since he was the choice of most of the audience.
Hunters were chosen for their gene appropriateness. Lovac was considered a perfect mate.
Perfect! Yeah, I’m perfect. A perfect stud. I hunt, or pretend to hunt depending on how badly the lioness wants to mate. I capture and impregnate. There is no hunt anymore. No thrill in the chase, no pursuit, no competition. All there was any more was a moon-wide broadcast of my sexual exploits. I’m perfect alright, a perfect whore.

Lovac eyed the lioness before him. Perhaps she would be different. There was something challenging about her. The way she stood perhaps. The confident swish of her tail. The way her ears laid back. Not to mention her curvaceous body. The hunting jumpsuit did nothing to hide her lush hips, the full globes of her breasts and her flat stomach.

Lovac could feel arousal thrumming through his veins. He inhaled deeply, pulling from his training as a hunter to remove the evidence of his attraction. The Ministers would not be happy if he displayed too soon.

A Rose By Any Other Name page 3

Zna suppressed the growl growing in her throat as the Handler locked the collar around her throat. Of all the humiliating and maddening parts of the Hunt, having a collar locked around her throat like she was some kind of house cat, was the worst. The Handlers always had masks on to protect them from any kind of retribution. But they couldn’t suppress their smell.

“Do you ever get tired of being a Handler, Tosca?” Zna asked the hooded Handler.

“As much as you are tired of the hunt. We each have to do what we must to survive,” Tosca answered.

The Handler was a friend of Zna. They had known each other since childhood. Tosca was from the species Grlica. Zna had heard off-world hunters call him a turtle. She was sure that was misspoken. Tosca did have a beak instead of whiskers like she did. He also had scaly skin and a hard shell on his back. But he also had wings. Tiny useless wings, but wings nevertheless.

Zna was knocked out of her revelry when Tosca pressed a tiny object into her hand. She opened her hands slowly, under cover of their two bodies. Shiny and hard, a metal key rested in her palm.

“What is this?” Zna asked.

“The key to the collar,” Tosca whispered as he pretended to adjust the collar. “You know I see visions sometimes.”

“Yeah, your mother was a Psy. So?”

“I don’t know anything precise. All I know you will need the key and,” Tosca leaned in. The mask touched Zna’s check. She felt Tosca’s beak touching her, kissing her cheek. “This is good bye. You will not see me again. I want to give you a present, that is why the key.”

Zna placed the little piece of metal in one of her pockets in the jumpsuit she wore.

Tosca backed away as the hunter approached.

Zna inhaled steadying herself for the first look at the man who would hunt her, and if she lost, mate with her. She always dreaded this instant.

The last hunt she ran the male was not only humanoid, but he was white and pasty as though he had not gone outside for several moon cycles. His belly hung over the belt that held his trousers up. His face was jowly and pock-marked. Zna had suspected that he was a hunter more due to money paid in the dark than hunting skills. It would have been an easy hunt if it had not been for the fancy tech traps he used. She had nearly lost her leg with one of the traps he set. However, she won and the Mister had his money.

Turning toward the harsh, solid thunk of boots walking along the wooden platform, Zna let her breath out with a whoosh. She had to consciously remember to start breathing again.

The hunter coming at her was breath-taking. His powerful well-muscled body moved with easy grace. The rich outlines of his shoulders strained against the fabric of his hunting jacket. His compelling blue eyes pierced raked over her taking in her body in one swift glance. The set of his chin suggested a stubborn streak. The hunter smiled at one of the people sitting beside the platform, not at her. His teeth, even and white, contrasted pleasingly with his olive skin. This hunter spent a lot of time active and outside. He had an air of authority and the appearance of one who demanded instant obedience.

The tantalizing smell of his spicy after-shave and the musk of his masculinity wafted to Zna. She felt her body respond to his pheromones. Zna bit into her tongue to put her body back where it belonged, ready to win a hunt. She raised her eyes to find him watching her. His captured her eyes with his, holding her mesmerized for an instant, studying her. The light of desire flashed in his eyes. He looked at her for a sign of objection or acceptance. Zna kept her face passive and her eyes hooded. She wanted to give nothing, not a shred of advantage to the hunter.

“Well, now, let’s get this thing on the road,” the hunter said breaking his gaze away from Zna.

The referee, a member of the Ministry, came forward. “Lovac, this is the lioness you will be hunting, Zna Menita. She has triumphed in seventeen hunts. She will give you a good run.”

Lovac laughed. The sound rumbled deep within his chest. Zna felt his laugh all the way down to her toes. The last time she felt this draw toward a male was when her husband was alive.

The remembrance of her husband, his mane matted with blood from a hunter’s machete, dying in her lap made her blood run cold. It was this type of human that destroyed her family. It was this type of human that held her daughter hostage.

Zna vowed that no matter how much she was drawn to this human male, she would not lose this hunt. She would not be mated to a despised human. And to make the thirty tick advantage she would kill this Lovac if necessary.