RIDING SHOTGUN by Anne Kane

RIDING SHOTGUN by Anne Kane

Mercenaries 3

She was a genetic experiment that was never supposed to get out of the lab. If the government finds her, they will kill her without hesitation. She's a crack shot, though, and she's used to looking out for herself. Her affinity for all things mechanical helps her make a living on the underground street racing circuit, but it's a dangerous game, and lately things haven't been going so well.

Shotgun falls hard from the first time he meets her, and is determined to make her his own. When accidents keep plaguing Kalie's car, he gets suspicious and with the help of his mercenary buddies he is determined to find the source of the problem and keep his woman safe.

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Excerpt:Riding Shotgun (Mercenaries 3)
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Anne Kane

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

A subtle movement on the far ridge caught Shotgun's attention. It could be a deer on the far ridge, but he doubted it. Moving the scope of his rifle in a slow sweep, he searched for the cause. There. On the west slope. A faint flash as the late afternoon sun reflected off a metal surface.

He kept the rifle trained on the spot, his trigger finger itching, and sure enough, there she was. A sharpshooter. Her rifle looked suspiciously similar to his own, and she handled it like a pro. Her mistake had been not making sure all the shiny metal was covered up.

Her outfit blended well with the surrounding rocks and he had to give her credit for finding a good vantage point. She'd managed to position herself in a wide crack in between two large outcrops of rock. Her back was protected by a sheer wall of granite. An irregular jumble of boulders in front of her gave her numerous places to rest the barrel of her rifle.

He recognized her from the portfolio Brice had shown them of the Lost Children. Kalie. Her riotous mop of long dark curls was held back behind a wide hairband, and the camo outfit she wore covered her deliciously ripe curves. He was too far away to see if her eyes really were as dark and sensual as they looked in her picture, but he was sure it was Kalie.

Her undivided attention was on the gathering in the clearing below. That would be her second mistake. Just because you're hunting, doesn't mean you aren't also being hunted. As he glanced around, gauging the distance between them and the amount of cover available, he felt the corner of his mouth lift in a slow grin.

Nothing like a bit of a challenge to liven up the evening.

* * *

The man came out of nowhere. Jerking her rifle out of her hands, he flipped her over and slammed her body into the ground. The breath whooshed out of her in one long exhale as he pinned her to the ground with his superior weight. Instinctively, she tried to bring her knee up to fend him off.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, little girl." His voice was low, a thread of humor running through it as he blocked the move with a casual flick of his leg. He could afford to be amused. He was planted firmly on top of her, and her rifle was no longer snugged comfortingly against her chin. She eyed up the distance to the weapon. Too far.

A fierce anger enveloped her, fueled by an unfamiliar feeling of helplessness. No one snuck up on her like that. No one. Taking a deep breath, she forced her body to relax. She could get out of this. If he thought she'd given up, he'd let his guard down.

"Who are you?" She spat the words out between clenched teeth, betraying her fury. So much for letting him think she'd given up.

"Name's Shotgun, Kalie. I'm with Saralyn down there, and her new beau. Just kind of keeping an eye on the situation when I noticed you over here. I don't like people watching my friends through the scope of a rifle."

"Really?" He knew her name. Shit. He probably knew about the other girls as well. Her sisters. That couldn't be good. She needed to neutralize him quickly and let them know they'd been found out. She shifted her weight, as if trying to get more comfortable. "Well, I don't like people skulking around watching my friends either, so I guess we're even. Would you mind getting off me? You're heavy."

"Not quite yet." He somehow managed to transfer both of her wrists to one hand. Raising his other arm, he spoke into the comm unit strapped around his wrist. "I got some action up here, Sarge. Little girl, with a big gun. Name of Kalie. Says she's watching point for the others. You want to verify that?"

"Should have expected something like this." Sarge's voice crackled over the unit. "I'll have Jackson check with the girls. Bring her on down, and we'll see if her story checks out."

"Roger that. Be down in a few."

Shotgun looked down at her. He was a big man. Big and hard. His face was all hard angles and planes, with a faint scar running down one side of his temple. She could feel hard muscles pressing into every inch of her. There wasn't a single soft spot on his entire body. Was he enhanced? One of the soldiers they'd fed those experimental drugs to during the provincial wars? That would explain how he'd managed to sneak up on her without her hearing him.

As she watched, a mischievous light danced in the depths of his eyes. He certainly didn't seem to think she was much of a threat. Maybe she could use that to her advantage "Looks like we're going to join the party. Up you get." He surged to his feet with an innate grace that told her he'd kept up his training after the wars. Holding out a hand to help her up, he still managed to keep that rifle pointed directly at her.

"Fine. Let's get moving." She ignored the outstretched hand and stood. "Can I have my rifle back now, please?"

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MATING SEASON by Anne Kane

MATING SEASON by Anne Kane

Three Imperial Were-Panthers find their true bond-mates in the most unlikely of places…

When a flitter-craft crash lands near Gregory's lair, the Imperial Were-Panther doesn't expect to find an unconscious female dangling from the captain's harness. Gregory's life is about to get interesting…

Bryony fled her bond-mate after one weekend of incredible sex. Six long years later Tanner found her, and he’s not about to let her out of his sight again.

Caitlin knows how to get in and out of a house without detection, but Kyran's not only caught her red-handed, he also seems to think they have some kind of bond-mate thing going... What’s a girl to do when the mark you’re after turns out to be an Imperial Were-Panther who thinks you’re his mate?

Publisher's Note: Mating Season (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Imperial Command, Imperial Temptation, and Imperial Haven.

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Mating Season (Box Set)
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Anne Kane
Excerpt from Imperial Command

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Gregory circled the downed ship, his blaster held at the ready. The pilot had managed to drop it neatly into the clearing, but an overhanging branch snagged the starboard stabilizer at the last moment and flipped the ship over just before it hit the ground.

Gregory didn't like the looks of that lazy curl of smoke drifting up from the belly of the machine. The thought of a fire this close to his lair made him nervous. The pilot and passengers needed to get out in case those fuel tanks exploded.

There were no territorial markings on the hull, and the scorch marks on the belly indicated a rough passage through the upper atmosphere. He shook his head. What type of idiot would use a flitter shuttle for interplanetary travel? Thumbing the safety on, he holstered the blaster and studied the ship, looking for a way in. The access port to the left looked like his best bet, and he pushed aside the heavy underbrush to make his way toward it.

Grasping the outer handle, he threw his considerable weight against the access port. Slowly, metal screaming in protest, the door began to slide. The recycled air of the shuttle rushed out of the opening, and the scent it carried hit him square in the gut.

A female Were-Panther. Young and in heat.

Hot blood rushed to his groin, stiffening his cock painfully within the tight material of his suit. Ignoring his discomfort, he wrenched the metal hatch cover aside and peered inside. The ship design was simple, and he could see a female form hanging upside down from the safety netting over the pilot's seat. Experience born of too many covert missions caused him to hesitate a few minutes, probing the dark shadows in the corners to make sure there were no other occupants waiting to ambush him.

A low groan drew his attention back to the female. Climbing onto the sloped metal ceiling, he made his way to the center of the bridge, carefully avoiding the debris strewn about during the crash. The woman's lashes fluttered up, and he caught a glimpse of her gorgeous amber eyes. One arm flailed weakly before she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Gregory ran his hands over her, ignoring the call of her heat cycle while he checked to make sure she hadn't sustained any serious injuries during the rough landing. When he was satisfied it was safe to move her, he wrapped one arm around to hold her steady while he cut away the safety netting. Another groan escaped her lips, and he shifted her to a more comfortable position in his arms. Her full breasts pressed enticingly against his chest, and he gritted his teeth at his body's eager response.

Where had she come from? He didn't recognize her from any of his recent trips to Capital, the were-panthers community on the far side of the planet. And why had she been flying so low over his territory?

Another groan dragged his attention back to the female. Turning, he made his way back to the airlock, the trip more awkward with the woman's weight on his shoulder. Stepping out of the ruined flitter, he paced across the clearing and laid his burden down gently on a soft patch of undergrowth. Her eyes remained closed, and he couldn't help staring at her body, every inch outlined in mouthwatering detail beneath the tight space suit.

She was short, he'd guess barely up to his shoulder, with a thick mane of dark hair restrained in a single braid that fell to her waist. Her scent identified her as one of his own, an Imperial were-panther, but that led to the question of where she had come from and why she was flying around alone while in heat. Her parents should be keeping her safe from the inevitable pack of males that would hone in on the irresistible aroma. Even now, females weren't numerous and were never found running around the Black Planet in an ill-equipped flitter. He doubted the flitter had been sturdy enough to handle flights through the untamed jungle regions of the planet, let alone interstellar flight.

He snapped a couple of saplings off at ground level and laid them on the ground beside the unconscious woman. Selecting some sturdy vines, he wove them around the poles to build a travois. Primitive, but it would be more comfortable for the female than traveling on his shoulders. She didn't wake when he transferred her to the makeshift sled, and that worried him. Grasping the edges of the poles, he headed for his lair, dragging the woman behind him.

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HER CYBORG LOVER by Anne Kane

HER CYBORG LOVER by Anne Kane

Natalie’s loved and lost and she’s not so sure she wants to risk her heart again. She’s willing to settle for a challenging career as a space-pilot instructor and a succession of no-strings attached lovers. But that’s before her boss saddles her with the last thing she wants—a new partner.

Jebediah recognizes his perfect match in Natalie from the moment she seduces him on a dare. Everything that makes her a top-notch pilot, from her fearlessness to her passion, make a night in her bed both challenging and unforgettable. Too bad she cuts Jebediah off the moment they’re assigned to a mission in the outer limits of Alliance space.

A dangerous confrontation with a brutal enemy, an exploding drive engine and a traitor close to home throw everything into perspective. Natalie is going to have to put the past behind her and risk it all, because when your partner is also your lover, failure is not an option.

A Romantica® science fiction erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

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An Excerpt From: HER CYBORG LOVER

Copyright © ANNE KANE, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Natalie pulled the cerebral interface down over her forehead, scanning the display with a practiced eye. A blip on the bottom corner of the screen caught her attention.

“Identify ship, lower quadrant.” She rolled her eyes, waiting impatiently for the computer’s reply. She already knew the answer, or as much as she needed to know. One of the hotshot cadets thought they could sneak up behind her and beat her back to the base.

“Ship identified as delta class reconnaissance pod. Single occupant, unidentified male. No flight plan filed.”

No flight plan? That certainly raised questions. Probably a lower class cadet returning from a routine scouting mission. Maybe she was wrong about their motives. After spending the last decade on active duty, she’d come to expect the younger pilots to challenge her. They thought mature meant slower and less alert. So long as he or she didn’t make any surprise moves, she’d ignore them. “Keep track of their progress.”

“Affirmative.” The ship’s deep voice no longer sent pangs of loss through her. After the accident that had taken her life mate, she’d programmed his voice into her ship’s avatar as a way of keeping him close. That had been almost a decade ago, though. Now, the voice belonged to her ship and if she thought of her lost love at all, it was with a fond nostalgia. Life went on.

“Can they see us?”

“Affirmative. Our cloaking shield is not engaged.”

Even as she prepared to give the cadet the benefit of the doubt, the other ship began to pick up speed, darting in front of her in an obvious show of contempt.

So much for playing Mrs. Nice Gal! “Computer, turn off autopilot. We’re going to show that little snot what a real woman can do.”

“Aye captain. Autopilot disengaged. Do you wish to hail the other ship?”

The scout ship slipped between two asteroids, picking up power as the pilot zigzagged his way through the rock-strewn sky with a flagrant disregard for his ship’s safety. Where did the kids learn to fly these days? In a vacuum? If he weren’t careful, he’d end up a red smear on one of those asteroids.

“Why not? Open hailing frequency.”

A few seconds passed as the avatar located the proper frequency. Natalie slipped the steering yoke over her shoulders, adrenaline already spiking through her as she prepared to meet the challenge. Designed for maximum integration of the ship and its pilot, the yoke made it easy for her to control every nuance of the fighter ship’s reactions. She rammed the throttle forward, engaging all four thrusters and leaning left to avoid colliding with a small rock that careened into her path as the ship surged forward.

“Hailing frequency open.”

Natalie took a deep breath. “Delta class scout ship. This is Captain Sparwood, lead instructor on Gamma Base Seven-Two-Seven. Identify yourself immediately.”

She waited impatiently for a reply. Even the greenest of cadets knew better than to openly defy her. Dead air lay between her and the scout ship. Seemed this cadet was stupider than most.

“Delta Class Scout ship. I order you to identify yourself, or be prepared to handle the consequences.”

A deep male chuckle rolled through the comm link. Natalie blinked. Laughter? Was the idiot actually laughing at her? He was so going to eat her dust, and that would be before she grounded his sorry ass for the next decade or two.

Thirty years of practice gave her the edge every single time one of the cadets pulled a stupid stunt like this. Engaging the infrared overlay on the cerebral interface, she mentally plotted the other ship’s most likely course. Only an experienced space jockey understood that the shortest route was rarely the quickest, or the easiest.

Sure enough, the idiot darted between the two large asteroids directly in front of him. A seasoned pilot would know that the combined gravitational fields of the rocks created a braking effect on any smaller object caught between the two of them. Real-life one on one versus theory in the classroom. She could almost feel sorry for the pilot as he struggled to wrest control of his ship from the two inanimate objects.

Almost, but not quite. She circled around the trap, putting herself directly between the rocket jockey and home base. Let him watch her tail for a while before she slapped him into the brig. Waggling her wings in an insulting salute that the unfortunate pilot couldn’t possibly miss, she veered toward home base.

She hadn’t quite finished congratulating herself on such a swift victory when her ship careened sideways, almost colliding with one of the smaller asteroids in the field. What the hell?

She jerked her head up, hardly able to believe the display in front of her eyes. The smaller ship had freed itself of the gravity well and moved to parallel her before turning so that his thrusters aimed directly at her side. When he fired them, the shock hit the pilot ship with all the force of a herd of thundering moon-cats. Crap! This kid had balls. Balls and the makings of a star-class fighter pilot—if she didn’t kill him first.

Getting the ship back under control, she reined in her temper and concentrated on chasing the smaller ship. It had been a long time since anyone had actually given her a run for her money. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Pilot, you just bought yourself a serious amount of time dirt-side. Again, I say, identify yourself.”

No answer.

“Who the hell are you?” Her voice harsh with suppressed rage, she gave the pilot one last chance to reply.

“Obviously a better pilot than you.” His voice was smooth and low, with a trace of male humor showing through. Arrogant, definitely arrogant. She felt a grudging respect for his lack of deference. He had her on the run and he knew it.

“I doubt that. I got careless and you got lucky.”

A disbelieving snort echoed through the com link. “I’m an excellent pilot. I don’t need luck.”

“And your name?” She didn’t recall the last time she’d spent this much time trying to extract information from a cadet. Who the hell was this guy?

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