MY NAME IS A’YEN
A’yen’s Legacy, book one
Science Fiction Romance #SFR
They’ve taken everything from him. Except his name.
The Loks Mé have been slaves for so long, freedom is a distant myth A’yen Mesu no longer believes. A year in holding, because of his master’s murder, has sucked the life from him. Archaeologist Farran Hart buys him to protect her on an expedition to the Rim, the last unexplored quadrant of the galaxy.
Farran believes the Loks Mé once lived on the Rim and is determined to prove it. And win A’yen’s trust. But she’s a breeder’s daughter and can’t be trusted.
Hidden rooms, information caches, and messages from a long-dead king change A’yen’s mind about her importance. When she’s threatened, he offers himself in exchange, and lands on the Breeders Association’s radar. The truth must be told. Even if it costs him his heart.
And here’s a little taste:
Apples. Her hair definitely smelled like apples. And the shiniest black he’d ever seen. Dark as a starless night. She clutched at his arms to keep from falling, her fingers wrapping around his markings. But it didn’t hurt. In fact her touch barely registered on them.
Another sign his body liked her. A little too much for this point in their relationship. He wasn’t ready to let go of Master. Too bad his cellular chemistry wasn’t listening.
The feel of her pressed against him sent heat coursing through his veins. If he didn’t get some distance between them—fast—he’d do the other thing post-marking males of his race were known for and give in to the need building in his cells to have her hands manipulate the electrical energy in his body—the other reason why going without cascades was so hard.
He stepped back, still steadying her with his hands on her waist. “Whoa there, Doc.” Damn. His voice carried way too much of the heat building inside him. Green eyes stared at him. Her tongue slid across her lips and she pinched her bottom one. She really ought to let him do that.
He jerked his hands away and stumbled backward until he hit a wall. Which closed in on him, sucking all the air from the room. Only her chest moved, heaving in air at a rate to match his. Everything about her begged his hands to explore her curves, taste her fully, and take her to new heights of pleasure.
The door. Where was the door? Had to get out before he suffocated. Oh. Leaning on it. Left hand on the handle, he fumbled with it until he got it open, then backed through it, forced himself to turn around, and ran for the safety of the nearest tree.
Distance. He needed distance between them. To shut off the traitorous longings within. And the signals his body sent against his will.
Where you can find My Name is A’yen.
Google Play: http://ow.ly/UWJnj
A little about Rachel:
Rachel Leigh Smith writes romance for the hero lover. She lives in central Louisiana with her family and a half-crazed calico. When not writing, which isn’t often, she’s hanging with her family, doing counted cross-stitch, or yakking about life, the universe, and everything with her besties. There may also be Netflix binging…
She’s a member of Romance Writers of America.
She blogs sporadically at www.rachelleighsmith.com,
hangs out on Facebook at www.facebook.com/RachelLeighSmithAuthor,
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