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Table of Contents
Epilogue
Kiss My Asteroid
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
20
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Also by Milly Taiden
 KISS MY ASTEROID

PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY GALAXA WARRIORS

MILLY TAIDEN

LATIN GODDESS PRESS INC.

 CONTENTS

Kiss My Asteroid
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
20
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Untitled
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
Also by Milly Taiden
 KISS MY ASTEROID
PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY

GALAXA WARRIORS

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

MILLY TAIDEN
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EXCERPTS, AND MORE!
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Ivy Grimaldi can’t stand change. Ever. But change is something she’s had to deal with a lot
lately. Like when her cousin Cassandra moved away to start a new life, baby and all. That all
changes when Gerri Wilder shows up at her door with a letter from her cousin. Cassie wants her
to come visit. Sure, why not? There’s just one problem. Cassie lives on another planet. A far-the-
heck-away planet, with her hotter than hell shifter mate.
Vander Kasaval, King of the shifter warrior planet Galaxa, has his own problems with
change. A lead by example kind of a king, he’s between a rock and a hard place. He needs to
find a mate to help put an end to a brewing civil war. None of this would be happening if not for
a plague affecting only the females of his planet. His warriors and the men of the Palladian
Capitol are ready to riot. Vander reluctantly agrees to send for matchmaker, Gerri Wilder. If she
can find a match for him and his men, then his world might be saved.
Ivy agrees to go, if only to make sure Cassie’s okay. Oh, all right, and to maybe find an
intergalactic hookup for herself in the process. In a planet full of big, bad, sexy shifters,
anything’s possible, right? Ivy’s in for the time of her life in a planet of unimaginable beauty and
dangers she had no idea existed. But Ivy isn’t one to sit idly by and let something happen. With
two new friends, they’re about to take Galaxa by storm.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are
not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is
entirely coincidental.

Published By
Latin Goddess Press
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://millytaiden.com
Kiss My Asteroid
Copyright © 2016 by Milly Taiden
Cover by Willsin Rowe
Edited by: Tina Winograd
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
June 2016

Created with Vellum

—For everyone who believes in love,

Keep romance alive!

 1

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“I’ M SORRY , Lanis, but this girl is not the one. In a nutshell, she simply will not do.”
The high council member looked down her long nose and sniffed. “Again, Kari? Why are
you so quick to veto every girl I present? Is it me, or is there some other reason you insist on
being so difficult, besides the fact you used to be the old king’s lover? It’s annoying enough that
you object, but throwing human phrases at me, too? Pray tell, what in the two suns of Galaxa do
nuts have to do with finding the king an appropriate mate?”
Kari smirked at the sour expression on the woman’s face. “Nuts have everything to do with
choosing a mate, Lannie baby, and if you don’t understand, then it has been way too long since
you got any.”
The older councilor’s lips puckered like she sucked on a lemon. “Watch your tone, miss. I’m
still the senior elder at this table and haven’t I told you a thousand times not to call me that
ridiculous name? Your time on Earth did you a disservice regardless of what Vander thinks. How
you ended up on this council is beyond me.”
Kari shrugged again. “You answered your own question, Lanis. My time on Earth expanded
my view and Vander agrees. Galaxa is a warrior planet and it could use a little enlightenment. As
to my being on this council, Vander wanted a voice of reason among the kiss-ass bootlickers too
afraid to change the status quo. This unwillingness to change is part of the reason Galaxa is in its
current state. We need new blood, Lanis, and importing females from Nova Aurora is not the
answer. We have a shared lineage with them and that makes them susceptible to whatever is
killing our women here.”
“And you really think you alone can sway the entire council?”
Kari considered the high elder and the doubt in her silver eyes. “Possibly. I made a difference
in Vander’s life before and no one can deny it. You forget, I was more than just Vander’s
father’s lover. I was his maîtresse-en-titre when he was king and Vander’s governess. I’ll know
when the girl is right for my boy.”
Lanis lifted her chin. “The king is not your boy, and just because you were his father’s
mistress after Vander’s poor mother died doesn’t give you the right to veto every woman I bring
before this council. I personally chose this girl from one of the best families on Nova Aurora and
she comes with an enormous dowry.”
“It doesn’t matter. She has no shine.”
Lanis threw a hand in the air. “Shine? Is that another pretty human phrase?”
With a sigh, Kari shook her head. “No. It means she doesn’t have what it takes to awaken the
xenos in Vander.” Her eyes met Lanis’s and softened. “The girl you chose is beautiful, Lannie.
Regal even, but she doesn’t possess that certain something to stir what’s necessary in our king. I
have no doubt she could stir lust in any man, but that’s not our aim. We need a mate for Vander.
A true mate. Not a playmate.”
Lanis exhaled, lifting her hand in surrender. “Fifteen girls, Kari, and you’ve found fault with
each and every one. I give up. I’m exhausted.” The older woman sat on the council bench.
Kari plopped down next to her elder and pushed her long silver hair from her shoulder. “It
was the same flaw in all of them, Lannie. They were all missing that one vital ingredient.”
The high councilor sighed. “I wish you could explain yourself, Kari, because lord knows I
haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Vander is special, Lanis. It’s in his eyes and how they glow with power. It’s as if the xenos
is seething below the surface of his skin just waiting for the right one to free it from inner
captivity. It’s close. The woman he takes for his mate must be strong enough to tame the animal
within the king and share its wild nature. It is the same for all our warriors. We need help.”
Lanis’s lips parted, and then she pressed them together. “No, I will not have my position
seized or my obligation to our king and planet compromised by an earthbound shifter. Vander’s
eyes have not shifted to the green we all wait for.”
Chuckling, Kari watched the mood walls surrounding the council room change to a soft, pale
green. “You need to cool your jets, girlfriend. Even the walls think you’re wound too tightly.”
She paused. “If it’s any consolation, Vander doesn’t like the idea of a matchmaker, either.”
Lanis crossed her arms in front of her chest and smirked. “I’ll credit his father for that bit of
common sense.” She looked at her sister and exhaled. “It looks like we’re at an impasse, Kari.
What do we do?”
The younger elder laced her fingers with the older woman’s hand. “We convince the king.”

V ANDER K ASAVAL STUDIED the newest candidate through his floor to ceiling monitor. He didn’t
know her name or much else about her, other than she was the daughter of a rich lord from Nova
Aurora and the next in a long procession of females paraded for him as a possible mate. He
exhaled, raking a hand through his hair.
“Now that doesn’t look promising.”
Vander smirked at the familiar voice behind him, but didn’t turn. “Not even close, my
friend.” He slid his eyes past his shoulder to Damen Iceri, his chief of security. “Did you come to
share my pain or just amuse yourself?”
He answered with a laugh. “Both.” Damen’s eyes flicked to the garden scene on the monitor.
“Is she the latest?”
The king nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately? What’s wrong with this one? From the look of her, Lanis truly outdid herself
this time.”
Vander turned to his friend. “The woman is beautiful. I won’t argue that, but her narrow
frame is too delicate. One deep thrust between those skinny legs and she’d snap like a
wishbone.”
Damen’s snort left the king with a raised eyebrow. “We both know Galatian warriors are
large compared to most, and you? You’re freakishly big, especially when you’re getting your
freak on.”
Vander’s lip curled at his friend’s pun. “Nice. I’m looking for back up and you’re more
interested in being a comedian.”
Damen grinned. “Hey, what are friends for?”
“Ha! Yeah, well, then who needs enemies?”
The security chief glanced at the monitor once again. “My sources tell me this one’s
somehow connected to Alyx. If she’s a purebred Auroran, then I’m not surprised she’s small.
From what I hear, Alyx has a matchmaker hooking up half the alphas and powerbrokers on Nova
Aurora with humans, and it’s solved most of their problems. I also hear they are the total
opposite of Lanis’s pick.” He gestured toward the screen with a wink. “The matchmaker’s girls
are full and curvy and utterly mouthwatering, but I’d have to check my reports.”
“Your reports?” The king frowned.
“I know it’s not considered good interplanetary politics to spy on your sister planet, but yeah,
I have video surveillance.” Damen grinned. “Makes for pretty interesting viewing, if you catch
my drift.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Have things gotten so bad, men have resorted to self-satisfying via an audiovisual link to
our sister planet? Next you’ll be asking me permission to pipe in satellite porn from Earth.”
Damen made a face. “If that’s your attitude, then you haven’t been paying attention, Vander.
The female situation is bad. The rest of us don’t have a council parading a daily lineup of women
for us to swipe left or right.”
The severity on his friend’s face made Vander pause. “You’re wrong, Damen. I have been
listening, and believe it or not, I read your reports. In fact, you mentioned Alyx’s matchmaker. I
asked Ms. Wilder to come and help our situation. Galaxan men deserve mates.”
“What about the Galaxan king?”
Vander shook his head. “It’s not that simple, my friend. As king, I should be able to find my
own mate.”
“I don’t know, Vander. Alyx argued the same point with his council, even going so far as to
reject the matchmaker’s offer to help, dismissing her special talents. But the woman ended up
finding him a perfect mate before he could blink.”
Vander snorted again. “Friend or not, what the Auroran king does on his planet is his
business. I doubt a human would fit the bill here. I need a strong woman, independent, and used
to managing big things. She has to be able to handle size, Damen. Galaxa is twice the mass of
Nova Aurora and far less civilized in places, if you know what I mean.”
Damen laughed even louder. “You’re worried about finding a woman who can handle size?
Are you sure you’re talking about Galaxa and not your extra-large royal package?”
A slow grin tweaked the corner of Vander’s mouth. “That’s a given.”
“Listen, I know you’re king, but if you’re already enlisting Ms. Wilder’s help for everyone
else, why not ask her to look around for you? What’s the worst that can happen?”
Vander looked at the thin, elegant woman in the monitor and the troubled faces of his elders
as they assessed her. Kari glanced up in that moment as though she knew he watched. She caught
his eye, her face unenthusiastic as she quietly shook her head, motioning to the woman. With a
shrug, she blew him a kiss.
 The king nodded at the cherished woman and then touched his fingers to his lips,
acknowledging her kiss.
Damen moved beside his friend, watching the exchange. “After all these years, she’s still got
your back, huh.”
“Kari is the closest thing to a mother I have—” He paused and glanced toward his friend. “I
don’t know what Jag and I would have done without her when growing up. So, yeah, she’s got
my back.”
“I thought my ears were burning for a reason.”
Both Vander and Damen turned. “Jag, what are you doing back?” Vander asked, moving to
clasp arms with his brother. “Any word?”
Jag shook his head. “Four more found dead. The same symptoms. The bodies were found
outside the city walls on the edge of the great sand ocean. The women were last seen in the
marketplace before they vanished. Their families have been notified. Along with their bodies, the
items they purchased are being catalogued. The merchants are in the process of being questioned.
As far as we can tell, the women had nothing in common, but we’re still looking.”
Vander moved to his desk, his face severe. “That brings the death total for the palace to
seventy over the past six months and that’s doesn’t include the number of dead in the outlying
villages.”
“The number is far higher here,” Damen added. “There has to be something connecting
them all.”
Jag took the file from under his arm and put it on his brother’s desk. “The only thing we’ve
been able to find is they all had been to a spa or spring house in the past month.”
“The same one?” Damen asked.
“No.” Jag shook his head. “That would have been too easy a common denominator.”
 2

V ander opened the file Jag set on the desk beside the one already open and stared at
both, his brows knotted. “These deaths seem to be growing in frequency along with
the number of raids on the outlying villages. Even the desert tribes have reported attacks.”
“Thefts?” Jag asked.
Damen shook his head. “No. Kidnappings.” He shrugged, but the motion was frustration, not
dismissive. “Makes sense. If most of the women in the city and in the palace are sick or dying, a
premium goes up on the black market for females.”
Vander slammed his hand on his desk. “Trafficking is not to be abided! Not while I breathe.
We need to stop this before it becomes an epidemic.”
“It already is,” Jag replied.
He looked at his brother. “I’m talking about the kidnappings, Jag. Not whatever illness is
claiming our females.”
Jag regarded Vander’s angry face. “That’s what I’m talking about. You haven’t been out
there, Vander. I have. Our men, warriors and merchants alike, are ready to mutiny. They blame
you for what’s happening.” He motioned Vander and Damen to the table with the model of
Galaxa’s regions and terrain.
“We’re here. At the center of the Palladian Oasis. Our vast resources feed not only the palace
and the surrounding city, but the outlying rural villages as well, though not more than twenty
leagues past the last village is the sand ocean. The only people who live and trade in that
forsaken wasteland are the nomadic tribes. They’re fringe at best, as you well know. They only
pledged their allegiance to the House of Kasaval because we’ve historically supplied them with
food, water and medicine, yet allowed them to remain semi-autonomous.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Jag.” Vander exhaled, dragging his
hand through his hair again.
His brother held up one hand. “I know that, Vander, but I need to talk this out, so bear with
me, okay? Have a little patience.”
Damen grinned at the sibling growls. “I feel like this needs popcorn. Are you making a point
or do I need to referee?”
“Popcorn? I haven’t had that since the last time I took a transport to Nova Aurora. It’s the
one thing Alyx’s new bride has stocked from Earth. That and chocolate.” Jag smacked his lips at
the memory of the hot, buttery goodness. “You should try the two together. Yum.”
“Kari had some brought from Nova last week along with the hotties for your brother’s line of
possible mates. She’s a saint for thinking of it for us,” Damen answered.
“Us?” Jag snorted. “Sorry, dude, but if those fluffy white kernels came from Kari, they were
for me, not you. So, hands off.”
Vander stared at the two men. “Unbelievable. Now I know why you need to talk out your
thoughts, Jag. It’s because you can’t focus on a simple course without going on a tangent, but
you Damen? Damn.”
“All right. Jeez.” Jag rolled his eyes. “As I was saying before I was distracted—” he shot a
look at his brother, “the nomadic camps, though semi-autonomous, still suffer sporadic raids
from rogue cave-dwellers living in the Mirror Mountains. Our militia handles these periodic
surges with no problem, but intelligence believes the increased frequency of the raids, not only
on the nomads but on the outlying Palladian villages, is a result of collusion between the cave
rogues and the warlords from the jungle.”
Vander’s eyes skimmed the model of his realm, particularly the desert and jungles separated
by the twin mountain ranges. “Is this intelligence in the report you put on my desk?” Vander
moved back to his chair and scanned the documents.
Damen flanked his side, studying the dossier as well. “Why wasn’t this sent to me?”
Jag slipped into a chair in front of the monitor and blew a casual kiss to Kari. “It was. The
same report is on your desk as we speak.”
“So, what’s to stop my disgruntled warriors from joining the rogues and the jungle gangs?”
Vander asked. “We need to do something.”
Jag and Damen looked at each other and then at the king. “As far as your men are concerned,
it’s not what they have that’s the issue. It’s a question of what they don’t. Warriors have money.
They have food and plenty of Sidaii wine. What they don’t have are women. Not even
concubines to take the edge off,” Damen advised. “Their inner animals are caged and restless.
It’s bound to get volatile.”
Vander threw his hand in the air. “We can’t just corral hundreds of women from around the
star system and drop them in the middle of the Palladian capitol and tell the men have at it. It
would make us no better than the rogues perpetrating the kidnappings in the outlands.”
“That’s not what I meant, Vander. If your warriors have hope there are mates to be found,
women immune to whatever illness is affecting our own females, they would be more likely to
stand with you rather than against you. Hope is what they need, but hope is a dangerous thing if
you can’t deliver.”
Vander pursed his lips. “I’ve already said I would enlist the help of a matchmaker for
my men.”
Jag shook his head. “This isn’t just about your men. That’s a good place to start, but it’s
bigger than that. I think Damen is talking about all of Galaxa. Until we find out how and why
this illness is affecting our people, you need to show every region there is hope.” He lifted one
shoulder and let it drop. “Unfortunately, brother, you are fighting this battle on multiple fronts.”
“So, how do I fight, then?”
Damen clapped him on one shoulder and turned him toward the monitor. “You fight the
battles you can win and move on from there. Take a mate. Even a skinny wishbone one will do
the trick to show the Galaxan men there are women to be had.”
Vander’s jaw clenched and his eyes flared with emerald fire. A low growl, feral and
menacing, came from the back of his throat and Jag’s eyes went wide.
“Jeez, bro. That creepy green shit just got real. What the hell?”
Damen nodded. “I take it back, Jag’s right. Whatever it is lurking inside you will not be
satisfied with just anyone.” He gestured with his head toward the monitor. “You should know
she asked me to send a transport to Nova Aurora to bring Ms. Wilder over.”
 Vander’s gaze jerked to his chief. “Who?”
“Kari.”
He spared a glance for his brother and then looked back at his security chief. “When?”
“This afternoon.”
Brows knotted, the king spared a glance for the monitor before turning the full weight of his
stare on Damen. “And you didn’t think to clear it with me?”
“What do you think I’m doing now?”
Irked, Vander frowned. “Good. Kari may have my ear and my affection, but she doesn’t run
me or Galaxa.”
Amused, Damen met the king’s annoyed glare with a smirk. “So, what about Ms. Wilder? Do
I fetch her? I vote yes, especially since your moody ass tells me you need to get laid and soon.
And not by some Auroran stick figure.”
“I’m king, Damen. With the snap of my fingers I can have my cock serviced any time, day or
night. I think we’ve gone beyond that.”
“You’re right. We’ve moved beyond that. All of us. We are in uncharted territory, Vander.
Everyone knows you can have anyone you want, either on their back or knees, or both for that
matter, but my guess is every position in the sex manual won’t help what’s prowling inside you.
Let the elders squabble about the origins of that eerie glow in your eyes. If you ask me, I think
it’s connected to you finding your mate. That mysterious light is somehow connected to your
xenos. Who cares about its origins? Once that wildness surfaces, it will need a soft counterpart to
temper its feral nature. At least, that’s what the archives allude to.”
Vander glanced at Kari again, the muscle in his cheek working overtime. “Where in the
archives did you read all this?”
“Deep in the council records. The archives also describe the warrior king’s xenos as a savage
cat. One that takes great chunks out of its prey, taking pleasure as the poor creature bleeds a slow
death.”
The king’s jaw tightened even more and Damen put his hand on his shoulder. “You know
something, don’t you?”
Vander shook his head. “Nothing for sure. Just nightmares. But they were just as you
described.”
“Which part?”
The king’s face was a mask of concern. “All of it. The savagery of it was like nothing I’ve
seen.” He eyed his friend. “I think you’re right. I think my xenos is rising, and if I don’t find a
mate to check its viciousness soon, Galaxa will suffer. If it can happen to me, then it can happen
to every warrior on the planet.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, the king eyed his friend, sparing a look for his brother.
“Send for Ms. Wilder. In the meantime, I need to make a trip to the outlands and let them know
they haven’t been forgotten. I want you both to accompany me to show House Kasaval is united
in trying to stop the kidnappings, but also in trying to solve the mystery of why our women are
dying. Maybe there’s something in the oral traditions of the nomadic tribes that can give us
a clue.
“When do we leave?” Jag asked. “Remember, I just got back. Do I have time to shower and
grab a decent meal?”
Vander nodded. “We’ll leave at dawn.”
“What about Ms. Wilder?” Damen asked.
 The king spared a glance for the monitor and then turned to his chief. “Send for her. If she
arrives before we get back, I’ll have Maddox entertain her until we return. She and I
should talk.”
“Maddox entertain a woman like Gerri Wilder? But he’s older than dirt.” Jag laughed.
“He may be old, but he’s the best chamberlain any king could want. He’ll make her
comfortable enough until we get back.”
 3

I vy Grimaldi closed her mailbox and locked the hinged metal door. “Damn junk mail,” she
muttered, climbing the stairs to her apartment with the overflowing stack against her chest.
She dropped the mail on the hall credenza and flipped through the pile of bills and flyers,
tossing them aside one by one. A pretty scalloped envelope peeked from the stack of junk and
her hand froze.
“Cassie.” She pulled the letter from the pile, her cousin’s name barely a whisper on her lips.
Turning the envelope over, Ivy hesitated at the note scrawled across the top. She recognized
the looping script along with the logo for the Paranormal Dating Agency. Both belonged to
Cassie’s old boss, Ms. Gerri Wilder, matchmaker and everyone knew it.
Ivy frowned even with Cassie’s voice in her head warning her to be nice. Ms. Wilder was not
her favorite person. Not since she convinced Cassie to go off on some man-hunting wild goose
chase, only to have her cousin end up pregnant with a bear shifter’s baby. A man she
barely knew.
Talen was hot as hell, remember?
She frowned, regardless how true the memory.
…AND he ended up being the man of Cassie’s dreams. You can’t deny that.
Ivy muttered to herself. “I can if I try hard enough.” She scanned Gerri’s note again and the
matchmaker’s words: We need to talk.
Wiggling a finger beneath the letter’s triangular flap, Ivy frowned. “Yeah, we need to talk.
No shit, Gerri Sherlock Wilder.”
A heavy thud jerked Ivy’s eyes toward her front door. “I’m not a detective, dear, though I do
like a man who smokes a pipe, especially if his pipe is well-endowed, if you know what I mean.”
The stylish older woman winked from the open door, bending to pick up her heavy purse from
where she dropped it to gain Ivy’s attention. “And yes, we do need to talk. It’s why I
dropped by.”
Stunned, Ivy stared at the elegant woman with her classic designer style and vintage sex
appeal. It was no wonder Cassie fell for what Gerri sold, hook, line and sinker.
“Are you going to invite me in or is it your plan to stand there with your mouth open and
stare at me?”
Still gaping, Ivy snapped her mouth closed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Wilder. I’m just surprised to see
you. Please, come inside.” She moved to usher the older woman in and then closed the door.
“You know, dear, the only time a woman’s mouth should hang open in that kind of shock is
when faced with an enormous dick.”
Ivy blinked. Speechless.
 Gerri peeled off her Chanel jacket and draped it neatly over Ivy’s couch. “I’m not one for
showing up unannounced, but this matter really is time-sensitive, so why don’t you pour me a
glass of wine and then you can read Cassandra’s letter.”
Ivy motioned for Gerri to take a seat on a barstool in front of the granite counter separating
the kitchen from the spacious living room. “Red or white? I have both.”
“Is it a good white?”
Ivy gave the matchmaker a look. “It’s a Pinot Gris from my family’s vineyards in Napa.
“Hmmm, yes.” Ms. Wilder paused. “I had forgotten how privileged you and Cassie are in
this world. Ironic, really, considering Cassandra is such a sweet girl. So unpretentious.”
“As opposed to me?”
Ms. Wilder shook her head. “You both have the same good-natured temperament, though
you are wound tighter than Cassandra. You’re stronger, more independent. If I had to venture a
guess, I would say you were the domineering cousin growing up.”
Ivy pressed her lips together, squashing the tickle of a grin at the corner of her lips.
Gerri nodded. “Ah…I’m right, aren’t I? You were the bossy one.”
Closing the fridge door with her elbow, Ivy moved to the counter with the wine bottle in her
hand. “Maybe, but I love Cass like a sister. Like I love myself. We were an unstoppable team.
We could do anything. Deal with anything. As long as we did it together. Out of everyone in the
family, she and I were the only ones who didn’t give a damn about family status or money.” She
paused, considering the older woman. “But you already know that, don’t you? Though I haven’t
a clue how.”
“How what, dear?”
Ivy shrugged, uncorking the bottle before reaching for two long-stemmed glasses. “How you
know things. People’s wants versus needs, and how you bring them about.”
Gerri took the glass from Ivy’s hand and held it as the younger woman poured the wine. “It’s
my job to know those things, and I’m not shy about it. Not with a 100 percent success rate,” a
small grin tugged, “eHarmony’s got nothing on me, sweetheart.”
Ivy poured her own glass, keeping Gerri in her peripheral vision. “That a fact?”
Ms. Wilder lifted her wine to her lips. “It is okay, Ivy. I get your reasons for the slight
hostility toward me. Cassandra was a big part of your life and when she met Talen, their
relationship threw you. Especially since it all happened so fast. It was the first time she didn’t
need you, but what you don’t understand is that she does need you and always will. Moreover,
what you have to accept is your life is bigger than your bond with your cousin, and destined for
more. Much more. Both together and apart from her.” Taking a sip of the pale liquid, Gerri
gestured to the letter on the counter. “Open the letter.”
Ivy took a big gulp of her own wine and tore open the buff-colored envelope. She scanned
Cassie’s words, her jaw going slack. “Holy fuck! She’s having the baby already? So soon?” The
words hung in the air as unbelieving as her stunned look. “Jesus. Those two are barely back from
their honeymoon.”
“She and Talen are over the moon about how quickly this is happening. That man is one
giant bear hug waiting to happen, and when I say giant, I mean GIANT.” Gerri hesitated in her
reply, considering Ivy. “Shifters and humans. One never knows which way things will turn or
how fast when it comes to children. If they’ll take after the human side or the shifter or both, for
that matter.” She smiled. “It’s always a surprise.”
Ivy scanned Cassie’s words again, one line biting into her stomach—“Please come, Vee. I
know Gerri isn’t one of your favorite people, but I miss you. Let her help you.”
 Visiting Cassie would be coolest thing, except her cousin had moved. No, not out of the state
or even out of the country. Cass had left town for another planet. As in a galaxy far, far away. As
crazy as that sounded, it was the honest-to-God truth. Ivy would never have believed it if Gerri
hadn’t provided irrefutable proof. So as much as she wanted to visit Cassie, it wasn’t as easy as
taking the family jet and dropping in for a cup of coffee or a quick pizza.
Ivy would probably need clearance for everything including her underwear to visit
Cassandra, and while she loved her cousin, she didn’t know if she could allow anyone to go
through her bags, let alone her delicates.
What if they sniffed or did weird shit with her thongs when she wasn’t looking? Nope. She
couldn’t do it. Her thongs were off limits to anyone except whatever man was presently allowed
to peel them from her body, and right now, she had no man. Crazy but true. Her current dry spell
had lasted six months and it was taking its toll. Thank God for battery-operated boyfriends or her
bitch-o-meter would be off the charts.
She’d broken up with her latest boyfriend for the simple fact he was happier with his ex-
wife. At first, it was kind of weird dating a guy whose ex was so nice, but after a while it was
clear his ex-wife still had feelings for him and vice versa. Ivy decided to remove herself from the
equation and allow them to give it another shot. Would it work out? Who knew? But at least she
wouldn’t feel bad about being the reason they didn’t give themselves another chance.
Okay, brain wandering much, Ivy? She mentally scolded herself. Why the idea of thong
sniffing would bring her ex-boyfriend to mind was beyond her and she dismissed the thought.
It’s not like he knew what to do with her thongs anyway. Ever.
The dude was definitely in the needs work department when it came to sex, and at thirty-five
years old, Ivy was done with training men. The next guy she hooked up with would need skills.
Big skills. And a big dick.
She shook her head again. Enough wishful lusting. Visiting Cassie was the issue at hand. She
and Cass had always been there for each other and now her cousin needed her more than ever.
How could she say no?
Reading between the lines, Ivy knew Cassie was freaked about delivering her baby alone.
Not that she blamed her. Cass was human and Talen was an alien shifter. An alien bear shifter, to
be exact. But not an Earth kind of shifter.
Talen’s kind was the original prototype. Undiluted alien. ALIEN. Ugh. The word still
conjured images of little green men, except shifters from Nova Aurora were the farthest thing
from that. For some reason, the birth scene from the movie The Fly ran through her mind and Ivy
shuddered at the horror in her head.
Gerri put down her glass with a loud clink. “That’s quite enough of that!”
Ivy jumped. “What?”
Pointing a finger at her across the counter, Gerri frowned. “Your Hollywood special effects
kind of nonsense. Cassandra is no more worried about delivering her baby than any other
expectant mother. Human or otherwise. As for Talen, he’s as dual-natured as any Earth shifter…
just bigger…and hotter…and more well-hung. Like all alien shifters.”
The older woman said a mouthful and heat crested in Ivy’s cheeks. Was it because Gerri
called her out or because her panties dampened at the thought of a well-endowed shifter hottie?
Yep, it had been a long six months.
She held out Cassie’s letter to Ms. Wilder, but the matchmaker shook her head. “I know what
it says, dear. I was there when Cassandra wrote it.”
“How is Cass?” Ivy asked, putting the letter down and picking up her wine. She stared at the
pale liquid before meeting Gerri’s eyes. “I mean for real. You said over the moon, but are you
sure she’s okay?” She was almost afraid to know. The idea of childbirth was the one thing that
scared her, that and losing Cassie.
Ivy’s eyes fell on the small silver frame on the end table behind Gerri’s shoulder. It held a
picture of her and Cassie from last New Year’s Eve. It seemed so much longer than just twelve
short months ago.
Last year, they were both alone and now her cousin was happy, married…or mated…
whatever they called it on Nova Aurora…and now a baby. All their family money couldn’t buy
happiness and now Cassie had everything she ever dreamed. Of course, to find that kind of
happy she had to leave the solar system. Still, a vague slash of jealousy bit into Ivy’s gut.
“I suppose it’s perfectly normal for you to question this, especially considering the unusual
circumstances of Cassandra’s relationship, but I can answer without hesitation that Cassie is both
happy and satisfied with everything in her life. Can’t you hear the happiness in her words? She
simply wants to share it with you, Ivy. Cass misses you as much as you miss her, but she is
happy. That I can assure you. Of course, she gets homesick for Earth, but that’s easy enough to
fix.” Gerri paused. “Well, once the baby comes, anyway.”
“Easy? How?”
Gerri lifted her glass again. “Why not come and find out. Who knows? You might find
something there that satisfies you as well.” She paused, smirking. “Something that doesn’t
require batteries.”
Ivy balked. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?”
The older woman laughed. “I’m too old and too busy to waste time on formalities.
Sometimes it takes a brash attitude to find the right ‘something’ for a person.”
“I think you mean right ‘someone.’ Cassie said you liked killing two birds with one stone.”
Gerri laughed. “I appreciate you think me sneaky enough to use your cousin’s pregnancy as
some kind of ploy, but that’s simply not the case, although I do have clients on both Nova
Aurora and its sister planet Galaxa who come to mind as possibilities. Both places are crawling
with shifter men who could melt the crotch out of any girl’s panties. Why not yours?”
“So, you’re not trying to get me to cross the solar system for some elaborate hook up?”
Shrugging, Ms. Wilder sipped her wine. “I plead the fifth, but while we’re on the subject,
I’ve got a question for you. When’s the last time you were truly satisfied?”
“Satisfied? In regard to what?”
Gerri eyed her. “You’re a smart girl, Ivy. You know exactly what I’m talking about. When’s
the last time you had a toe curling, body shaking orgasm? The kind that comes attached to a
thick cock and a skilled tongue?”
Ivy choked on a mouthful of wine.
“Just as I thought.” Gerri handed her a napkin, chuckling. “You’ve been lucky, Ivy. You’ve
never had a shortage of men in your life, but they were all little boys playing at being men or
men who had no clue what to do with a vibrant, voluptuous woman such as yourself. Your life
has been a series of relationships where you give and they get off. Am I right?” She waited for
Ivy to answer, but the young woman didn’t reply.
Shrugging, Gerri lifted her wine to her lips again. “Doesn’t matter if you answer or not. I
already know. So why not come with me and visit Cassie. See what she’s seen. You never know
what the stars have in store for you.”
Stars? The sneaky matchmaker should have said planets, because that’s what she meant. Ivy
chewed on the corner of her cheek, the idea of interstellar travel tweaking her inner adventure
junkie.
“When?’’ Ivy asked. “How soon could we leave?”
Gerri pursed her lips. “How does tomorrow evening sound?”
Ivy stared at her. “That soon?”
She nodded. “I have a situation with another client I must see to beforehand, but I can meet
you at this address at nine p.m. We can set out, then.” Gerri slid a business card with the address
information across the granite counter. “Twenty-four hours should give you enough time to get
your affairs in order.”
Ivy glanced from the card on the table to the expectant look on Gerri’s face. “My affairs in
order? What? Am I dying?”
A soft laugh left Gerri’s mouth. “No, of course not, but the time/space continuum is a little
different where we’re headed. What seems like a couple of weeks there, will actually be months
in Earth time. You really need to make arrangements accordingly.”
“Months?”
Gerri nodded. “Yes, if not longer.”
“Jesus.” Ivy exhaled, a little thrown.
“Look on the bright side. When you eventually return to Earth, you’ll look the same as the
day you left. No aging.”
Ivy snorted. “Now that’s a perk worth putting in the brochure. Are you sure I can’t tell
anyone about this?”
Gerri shook her head. “Sorry, that’s the deal I strike with every client.” She looked at the
younger woman. “So? Are you game?”
Both corners of Ivy’s mouth curved up. “Why not?” She shrugged, topping off her wine.
“I’m bored with Wall Street and running Mergers and Acquisitions and planned on giving my
notice anyway. It’s not like I need the money, right? The cutthroat world of huge global
companies swallowing smaller businesses doesn’t give me the same thrill it used to, so yes! I’m
game for something big and new. What have I got to lose?”
“Good.” Gerri pushed herself up from the barstool and gathered her bag and jacket. “I’ll see
you tomorrow night. Nine p.m. sharp. Oh, and pack light. The weather is changeable, so keep
that in mind. One bag.”
“One bag? You’ve just told me to put my affairs in order, that we’ll most likely be gone how
long, yet I get one bag? Fat chance.”
Ivy handed the woman her purse and the moment their fingers touched she saw something
spark in Gerri’s eyes, and a slow smile spread across the matchmaker’s face. “Don’t be late, Ivy
Grimaldi. Adventure awaits you, but I won’t.”
 4

“M s. Wilder, please. I only want to know if Alivia is safe. Her letter was too
cryptic for me to believe. She’d never willingly up and leave her home, her
job—her friends!” Riley Parks was near tears as she stood in front of Gerri’s desk. The woman
was clearly troubled, but that’s not what drew Gerri’s attention. It was the undercurrent of anger
coming off the woman standing beside Riley that occupied her notice.
While Riley was short and slightly curvy with dark springy curls and smooth mocha skin, the
woman she introduced as Henley Rourke was the opposite. She was tall and fully fleshed, her
sumptuous curves making her statuesque and regal from the top of her high, dark ponytail to the
toes of her black knee-length boots. It was clear in the woman’s hazel eyes. She was a fighter
looking for a reason to brawl.
Riley introduced Henley as a mutual friend of hers and Alivia. A private investigator, but
Gerri’s sixth sense told her otherwise. The woman was an amateur sleuth at best and was only
standing in her office because Riley was too intimidated to come alone. Riley’s concern for her
friend was genuine. Henley was merely curious.
“Riley’s right, Ms. Wilder. If you know where Alivia Vela is, then you need to tell us or
you’ll give me no alternative. I’m going to have to alert the police. I wish you would cooperate.
It would go so much easier for you if you do.”
Riley Parks stopped her pacing and stood with her arms tightly crossed. “Liv’s been gone for
ages with no word, and you were the last person to have contact with her.”
Gerri took off her reading glasses and put them on her keyboard before swiveling her chair to
face both women head on. She laced her fingers together and leaned on her desk pad. “First off,
you both need to calm down.” She slid her eyes from one girl to the other. “As for you, Ms.
Rourke, calling the police is a ridiculous and unnecessary waste of time and you know it. Liv
Vela is a grown woman, and she has made the decision to live how she chooses and where she
chooses, regardless of whether or not you agree.”
She turned her scrutiny to Riley, narrowing her eyes as she took in the small woman. “To be
honest, Riley, while I understand your concern, there was no need to bring in a private
investigator. It’s insulting. Not that your friend would find anything of value to use against me. I
am a matchmaker, my dear, and your friend Alivia was matched to one of my clients and is
currently living happily off the grid, so getting her on the phone at a finger snap is a little
difficult.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Wilder, but that’s just not good enough.” Henley Rourke leaned on the
matchmaker’s desk, her fingertips pressed into the polished wood, but one pointed look from
Gerri’s piercing blue eyes had her stepping back, clearing her throat.
 Gerri switched from staring down the tall woman to looking at the other girl. “For what it’s
worth, Riley, I agree.”
Riley blinked at the older woman. “Wait. You agree with us?”
Gerri inclined her head. “Yes. I can see how frustrating this is for you, and how hard it is for
you to wrap your head around. I may not be able to reach Liv via conventional methods, but I
can do one better.”
The two girls exchanged looks. “Better? How do you mean? Are you saying you know where
Liv is?” Henley pressed.
Gerri lifted her hand matter-of-factly. “I’ve always known. That’s why all this posturing,”
she spread her hands toward the two girls and their defensive stances, “is completely pointless.”
“If you’ve known all along, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Henley shot back.
Her patience thin, Gerri stood and both women took a step back. “Alivia’s location isn’t
easily explained. I think it is better I take you to see for yourself. That way you’ll understand.”
Riley paled. “She’s not part of some harem or married to the mob, is she?”
“Of course not.” The older woman snapped, but then softened at the pained look on Riley’s
face. “Look, I’ve already offered to take you to see Alivia. If you’re serious, then meet me at this
address.” Gerri slid a business card with the directions across the desk. “Transportation to Liv’s
location is complicated, but I’ve made the arrangements in anticipation of this meeting. To
satisfy everyone’s curiosity and suspicion, I suggest you both come. Pack light.”
Riley exchanged another look with Henley before glancing at Ms. Wilder’s waiting stare.
“How do we know we can trust you?”
Gerri frowned. “Young woman, so far I’ve been very patient with you and your passive
aggressive accusations. I’ve had to delay my work for another client in order to meet with you on
such short notice. My hope was to allay your fears. I’ve offered to take you to Alivia at my own
expense so you can see for yourself she’s happy and well, but I won’t stand here and let you
smear my integrity. If you truly are concerned about your friend, and I believe you are, then stop
this nonsense.” She pointed to the card. “Be at that address tomorrow night. Nine p.m. Sharp.
The transport won’t wait.”
“Transport?” Henley questioned.
“Yes.” Gerri nodded, slipping her reading glasses onto her nose again before sitting in her
chair.
“That’s an unusual way to refer to a mode of transportation.”
Gerri eyed them over the top rim of her glasses. “Well, you’ll have to show up tomorrow
night to find out. I sincerely hope you do. This is a trip you won’t soon forget.”

“M S . W ILDER ?” Steven opened the cab door and quickly took her bag from the front seat. “I just
got your message. Just you tonight?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got a full house. Three plus me.”
He whistled low. “You’ve been a busy bee, then.”
Grinning, she patted the tall handsome man’s arm. “When am I not?” She gave him a nod
and handed him a twenty-dollar bill to pay the driver.
“Do you want me to stow this while you wait for your guests?”
She nodded again and then glanced at her watch. Eight fifty-five p.m. “That would be
terrific, Steven. Thanks. They should be getting her any minute. Time and space wait for no
one,” she replied with a wink.
He laughed. “I suppose that’s true, but if it were to wait for anyone, it would be you.”
Gerri’s smile broadened at his genuine chuckle. “You’re such a charmer, Steve. One of these
days, you are going to let me work my magic for you. Handsome and sweet as you are, you’d be
a catch for anyone, and you know I’d make sure she was the right gal.”
Steven bobbed his head. “That’s for sure.” He glanced toward the road at the flicker of
approaching headlights. “Do they have any clue where you’re taking them or what’s in store
tonight?” He gestured with his head toward the metal gate of the power plant behind them.
“One does, but the other two,” she laughed, “not a chance.”
He winked. “Gotcha. Well, if that’s the case, then I’d better get a move on. See you on the
flipside, Ms. Wilder. With four going, I’d better make sure the power grid is intact.”
Watching him walk with her bag toward the back of the nondescript power plant, she turned
as one set of headlights pulled into the narrow parking lot, followed by another. The power plant
that housed her transport was set between two abandoned warehouses. The perfect cover for her
own covert X-files. She’d bet a trip to the moon, all three girls never expected this deserted place
as their lift off point.
Both taxis pulled closer, driving right up to the power plant gates and then parked. The girls
each got out and looked around, surprise on their faces. Riley and Henley from one cab and Ivy
from the other. The two girls each had one roller bag and stood in awkward silence as the cabs
pulled away. Ivy had two, and Gerri shook her head.
“I’m glad you all made it,” Gerri said, greeting them with a quick smile. “Since I’m your
common denominator tonight, I’ll do the honors. Riley, Henley—this is Ivy Grimaldi. Ivy, this is
Riley Parks and Henley Rourke. They are traveling with us to visit their friend Alivia. She lives
not too far from Cassandra.”
“Wait,” Riley said, looking from one to the other. “I thought you said Alivia lived off
the grid?”
“And?” Gerri questioned back.
“And? I can’t believe you just asked that.” Henley frowned. “If Ivy’s friend Cassandra lives
close enough for us to travel together, then it can’t be as far off the mainstream as you led us to
believe.”
Ivy laughed at that. “Oh, honey, it’s about as far off the grid from here as you can get. Just
you wait and see.”
“Are we ready to roll, Ms. Wilder?” Steven asked, coming from the back of the power plant
with a small hand truck for the rest of the luggage.
She looked from him to the girls and nodded. “I think so. Girls, give your bags to Steven so
he can secure them and we can get going. Ivy, you have to leave one behind. You know why.”
Ivy opened her mouth to argue but one look from Gerri left her reshuffling items from one
bag into the other as best she could. They all followed Steven as he led them around the far
corner to the back end of the building. With a quick press of a button, a door opened from a
characterless wall. Steven waited for the four women to file through before he wheeled their
luggage in as well, pressing an inside button to close the door behind him.
“You take the main elevator, Ms. Wilder. I’ll meet you below as soon as I stow these.” He
gestured to the bags.
She nodded, watching as he slipped through a side door before she turned to swipe a key card
through an almost invisible slot. Another concealed door slid open and Gerri waited for the girls
to step into the secret elevator before she did the same.
 “Authorize,” a voice prompted and Gerri placed her hand on a smooth panel where the floor
buttons would be. “Accepted.”
The elevator door slid shut, and in seconds, their car plunged at high speed, the lights
flickering as they dropped.
“Oh my God, I’m going to be sick.” Henley leaned on the polished wall but then jerked back
when the lighting changed to a soft, dim pink. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Gerri lifted her hand. “It’s okay, honey. Do you suffer badly from vertigo?”
She shook her head. “Not usually, no. Why do you ask?”
Ms. Wilder didn’t answer as the elevator slowed to a smooth stop. The doors slid open and
Steven met them at the end of a long, narrow hallway. They followed him to a door marked with
Gerri’s name and waited for her to press her hand to the smooth metal surface once again.
“Biometrics. Interesting,” Henley remarked.
“Trust me, love. That’s nothing,” Steven replied with a snort.
The young woman frowned at the handsome attendant and Gerri chuckled as the portal room
door snicked open.
“I’ll say my goodbyes now, Ms. Wilder. Have a safe trip. I’ll catch you on the way back.” He
waited for them to walk inside the sleek, James Bond style room before nodding once and
closing the door behind them.
The sound of a bolt shooting its lock made Riley jump, and Gerri gave her a soft smile.
“There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Trust me. I’ve done this more times than I can
count. The only thing required at this moment is an open mind.”
The older woman moved them into a circle with Ivy positioned between each of the girls.
Riley exchanged a worried glance with Henley. “Open mind? How do you mean? For what?” she
asked.
Gerri patted her arm, but didn’t answer. Instead, she reached into her jacket pocket for what
looked like a polished chrome egg.
“Uhm, Ms. Wilder—” Riley began, her voice cracking slightly with alarm. “What are you
doing?”
“Are you a sci-fi fan, Riley?” she asked.
“I like Dr. Who. Why?”
Gerri grinned. “Good. Think Tardis. Now everyone take a hand.”
“Wait,” Henley balked. “Why? What’s going to happen?”
Gerri’s smile broadened and she whispered words in a strange language into the silver egg.
The oval shimmered, its polished surface glowing blue. She let it go and the gleaming egg hung
suspended in the air between them, its sapphire radiance spreading like a shallow pool on the
floor.
They each took a hand. Gerri eyed the group and winked. “In the immortal words of Betty
Davis, fasten your seatbelts, ladies. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”
The pool glistened in a turquoise so beautiful, it rivaled any in the Caribbean. “It’s almost
time, so when I say jump, we jump together.” Gerri nodded to Ivy, hoping she got the message.
If the other two hesitated, it was up to them to pull the couple into the portal.
“No! I can’t swim!” Riley’s eyes were frantic and she tried to jerk her hand back. “You’re a
crazy old bat! Henley! Get us out of here!”
Gerri’s eyes met her panicked gaze and she shook her head. “It’s not water, Riley. It’s a
portal. A wormhole I’ve opened for the purpose of moving between dimensions. Between
galaxies. It’s how we need to travel in order to meet Alivia and Cassandra. They are on a planet
called Nova Aurora with their mates. I know this seems unthinkable, insane even, but I assure
you, it is none of the above.”
“I don’t believe you.” Riley hesitated, but Henley reached across and squeezed her hand,
surprising everyone.
“It’s going to be fine, Ri. What’s the worst that can happen? We land in a circle of blue light
and the joke is on us, but if Ms. Wilder is telling the truth, think of the adventure! It’s the chance
of a lifetime.”
Henley grinned and for the first time since they met, Gerri smiled back at her. “You know,
for someone who has been a royal pain in my ass for the past twenty-four hours, that’s the best
thing I’ve heard all day.”
The shimmering glow stilled until the pool was crystal clear. On the other side was a
gorgeous landscape of purple forests and a medieval looking structure in the distance. “Okay,
ladies,” Gerri warned, “it’s now or never. JUMP!”
The four women held fast to each other and closed their eyes, jumping in unison. There was
no splash and Riley sucked in a breath, shocked there truly was no water. A cool burst of air hit
them and gravity took hold with a pulling sensation, like the draw from the open end of a
vacuum hose, only massive.
“Hold tightly, girls. This is where it can get a little freaky.” The dull initial pull changed to a
hard sucking motion. They were wrenched forward while at the same time swirling at high
speed. Pressure built in Ivy’s chest and she coughed, trying to suck in a breath.
“There’s. No. Air.” The words choked out and she lifted a hand to her throat.
Gerri shook her head. “It’s your imagination, Ivy. There’s plenty of air. The portal is
pressurized. You need to relax and take slow, even breaths.”
There was no sound. Only the intense pull and the incredible speed. The three girls gasped at
how their hair floated around them as though underwater.
“I’m going to vomit,” Riley cringed, swallowing hard against the thick, airless feel.
“No, you’re not. It’s just the pressure. Hold on. We’re almost there,” Gerri replied.
The portal shimmied and slowed and the thick density faded. The blue glow returned to the
pool of light, shrinking inch by inch until it disappeared completely into the chrome egg. Gerri
closed her palm over the silver oval and put it inside her pocket.
“Well, that went better than I expected. When the last gal came through, she fainted. I had to
have one of King Alyx’s men carry her to her room and it took three days for her to recover.”
She smiled. “Anyway, welcome to Nova Aurora, ladies.”
The door slid open and each walked out, each peering around as if expecting an army of little
green men.
“King Alyx?” Henley asked, helping Riley.
“Yes, he’s the ruler here.”
“Taking the king’s name in vain is a treasonable offense, matchmaker.”
All eyes turned at the sound of the deep, rumbling voice. The man was massive as he stood
waiting for them in the anteroom just outside the portal exit.
“Alyx! I didn’t expect you’d greet us yourself.” Gerri’s reply was as surprised as the look on
her face.
The man took three long strides and opened his large arms, engulfing the petite woman,
lifting her off her feet. “Next to my wife, you’re my favorite earthling, so why wouldn’t I be here
when you arrived?”
Ivy’s eyes went wide at the sight of the muscled shifter. Gerri mentioned alien shifter males
were huge and sexy as sin, but damn! She licked her lips and spared a glance for the other girls.
Dumbstruck, it was obvious they were just as taken with the substantial piece of eye candy. She
laughed to herself. As if traveling to a total other galaxy wasn’t enough.
“Put me down, you oversized fur ball, or I’ll put you over my knee and I promise you won’t
enjoy it!” Gerri’s tone wasn’t nearly as scolding as it was supposed to sound.
He laughed, setting her on her feet. “Bella tells you entirely too much.”
“True. Especially since your bedroom antics could rival a skin flick.” Gerri smoothed the
front of her flowy blouse, but the mischief in her eyes was nothing less than affectionate. “How
are she and the baby?”
“They’re both fine and looking forward to a visit from you.”
“Is everything as I asked or are juggling kingship and fatherhood too much for a big bad
lion?” She cocked her head at the big shifter, smirking at the effect he had on the three stunned
girls behind her.
“Warrior-sized nerve in such a bite-sized package. You are definitely one of a kind, Gerri
Wilder.” With a wink, he turned his attention toward the girls. “Looks like you’ve got a packed
house with you. I’m glad you sent word this time.”
She nodded. “I had to. I wasn’t sure how well the trip would be tolerated, considering how
hard it was on Bella the first time she made the worm jump, but it went better than I expected.”
Gerri turned, lifting a hand toward the three of them. “Alyx Treyvaal, King of Nova Aurora, I
present Ivy Grimaldi. Her cousin Cassandra is mated to Talen Arctos of your Northern Bear
Clan. These other ladies are Riley Parks and Henley Rourke. They are Alivia’s friends.” She
turned, nodding to them. “Alivia is mated to Alyx’s Chief of Security, Karel Yaghar.”
“Wait, are you telling me Karel is from here? I thought he was just a regular shifter,” Riley
asked, surprised.
Ivy cocked her head at her. “Riley, you assumed Gerri was taking you to see Alivia. When
she opened the worm hole, didn’t that clue you in that your friend had gone all Galaxy Girl?”
“So you’ve met Karel, then,” Alyx noted.
Riley nodded, shooting Ivy a look. “Yes, after he and Liv started dating.”
“Karel was visiting Earth on business for me. It was a very successful trip for him,
considering he met the love of his life. Earth has proven very fruitful in that department for us,
all thanks to this petite firebomb.” The king gestured with his head to Gerri.
“Okay, big guy. Flattery will get you nowhere. These girls are not here to join in the Auroran
version of Match.com. The just want to see their family and friends.”
Alyx smirked. “Next, you’ll be telling me Brooklyn is for sale.”
Henley burst out laughing. “Dude, no. The saying goes, ‘If you believe that, I have a bridge
to sell.’ It’s Brooklyn all right, but only because a con man in the early 1900s sold the rights to
its bridge at least twice a week.”
Ivy snorted. “There’s no fix for that kind of gullible, human or otherwise.”
Riley exhaled, stealing a glance at the gorgeous shifter. “Gullible? And how would you
explain our little trip through space?”
Ivy followed her line of sight and grinned. “I’d call it extra-terrestrially delicious.”
 5

T he look on Alyx’s face was priceless. “Uhm, yeah. I’d better stick to my own lingo,
then. Clearly, my wife’s lessons in Earth slang aren’t working on this dude.” He gave
Henley a pointed look and her eyes nearly bugged.
“I—I—didn’t mean anything by that. I’m s-s-sorry, Your Majesty,” she mumbled, fumbling
over her words.
He winked at the shaken girl. “No offense taken, love. If being married to a feisty human has
taught me anything, it’s to lighten up.”
“One caveman shifter down, thousands to go.” She winked. “Remind me to thank Bella when
I see her, but in the meantime, you still haven’t answered the question about my arrangements.”
The king nodded. “Alivia and Karel already reside at the palace, but as requested, I sent for
Cassandra and Talen. In her condition, I didn’t think it safe for her to travel overland, so I sent a
transport. The journey is a rough trek from the north, but this way they are set to arrive tomorrow
morning, safe and sound.”
“All righty, then.” Gerri clapped her hands once. “I’m sure the girls want to freshen up,
maybe take a nap and have something to eat. I know I do.”
Alyx inclined his head. “Of course. Your bags have already been taken to your chambers.
Gerri, I trust you know the way to the guest wing, so I’ll leave you to it.” He left them in the
anteroom without more than a goodbye nod.
“This place is one giant anomaly,” Ivy said, looking around as they made their way from the
transport bay toward the main palace. “It doesn’t know if it wants to be Camelot or Krypton.”
“You two are certainly taking this whole thing in stride. I still can’t wrap my head around the
fact we are light-years from Earth.” Riley ran a hand through her hair. “Is no one else
blown away?”
“Of course, they are.” Gerri nodded. “It’s only natural to feel overwhelmed, but this is real.
Here we are and here we stay until you’ve had your fill of Alivia and can go home happy in the
knowledge that she’s in a good place. That’s if you even want to go home. Liv didn’t, so you
never know.”
Ivy snorted. “I can’t blame her. Not if her mate is half as hot as his boss.”
“Facts!” Henley chuckled. “Testify that!” Her eyes widened as they passed rows of screens
set into the wall all showcasing gorgeous men and women in various stages of undress. “Holy
fuck! Literally!”
Gerri grinned. “I’m glad you two are enjoying the scenery. Those are ads for sexbots. Don’t
forget, this deep space thing may be all new to us, but Nova Aurora is a major port of call.”
Ivy laughed. “Are you telling us these sexbots are the galaxy’s answer to fleet week
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tattle-tales
of Cupid
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
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eBook.

Title: Tattle-tales of Cupid

Author: Paul Leicester Ford

Release date: September 9, 2023 [eBook #71597]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1896

Credits: Richard Tonsing, Charlene Taylor, and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TATTLE-

TALES OF CUPID ***
Transcriber’s Note:
New original cover art included with this eBook is
granted to the public domain.
 TATTLE-TALES OF CUPID

Books by Paul Leicester Ford

THE HONORABLE PETER STERLING

THE GREAT K. & A. TRAIN ROBBERY
THE STORY OF AN UNTOLD LOVE
THE TRUE GEORGE WASHINGTON
 TATTLE-TALES
OF
CUPID

TOLD BY

PAUL LEICESTER FORD

❦

NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1898
 Copyright, 1896,
By Harper and Brothers.

Copyright, 1898,
By The Century Co.

Copyright, 1898,
By Paul Leicester Ford.

University Press:
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 TO MY PLAYMATE

My dear Doña:

Once upon a time two children read aloud together more or less
of Darwin, Spencer, Lyell, Goethe, Carlyle, Taine, and other writers
of equal note. Though the books were somewhat above their
comprehension, and certainly not so well suited to their years as
fairy-tales and romances, both the choice and the rejection were
deliberately made and consistently maintained. The discrimination
originated neither in excessive fondness of fact, nor in the slightest
dislike of fiction; being solely due to a greater preference for the
stories they themselves created than for those they found in books.
Presently, one of these two, having found a new playfellow, stopped
inventing and acting and living their joint imaginings, and the
other one had to go on playing by himself. But he has never
forgotten the original impulse, and so, in collecting the offspring of
some of his earliest and some of his latest play-hours, his thoughts
recur to the years of the old partnership, and he cannot please
himself better than by putting his playmate, where she truly
belongs, at the beginning of his “imaginary” playthings.
 NOTE

“His Version of It” is reprinted in this form by permission of the

Century Company.
“The Cortelyou Feud” is reprinted by permission of Messrs. Harper
and Brothers.
 Contents

Stories PAGE

His Version of It 3
A Warning to Lovers 49
“Sauce for the Goose” 87
The Cortelyou Feud 103

Plays
“The Best Laid Plans” 133
“Man Proposes” 197
 Tattle-Tales of Cupid

HIS VERSION OF IT

“She’s a darling!” exclaimed the bay mare, between munches of the

big red apple.
“That’s just what she is!” responded the off carriage-horse; and
then, as part of his apple fell to the floor, he added fretfully: “I do
wish, Lassie, that you girls wouldn’t talk to a fellow when he’s doing
something! You’ve made me lose half my apple!”
Old Reveille, with the prudence of twenty-eight years of
experience, carefully deposited the unmasticated fraction of his apple
beside an uneaten one in his manger before remarking reflectively:
“She’s a thoroughbred; but she’s not the beauty her mother was at
the same age.”
“Fie!” reproved one of the cobs: “how can you be so ungallant,
when she always gives you an extra apple or piece of sugar?”
“I call it shameful unfairness,” growled the nigh horse of the pair.
“She doesn’t keep you up till two or three in the morning at balls and
cotillions. She doesn’t so much as ride you in the park, as she does
Lassie or Bubbles. When you haven’t done a step of work in six years,
and spend your summers out in the pasture and your winters in a
box-stall eating your head off, why should you get a double portion?”
“Yes,” whinnied Bubbles, plaintively; “and, what’s more, she
always kisses you.”
Reveille, who meantime had swallowed his first apple, looked up
with a lofty smile of superiority. Then he slowly winked his off eye,
remarked, “Naturally, you don’t understand it,” and fell to lipping his
second apple caressingly, previous to the decisive crunch. “See if that
doesn’t drive the women wild,” he cogitated, with a grin.
“Now isn’t that just like a man!” complained Lassie. “As if it wasn’t
enough to get more than his share, but he must go and have a secret
along with it.”
“Huh!” grunted the polo pony, who was, of necessity, the brains-
carrier of the stable; “if it’s family property, it can’t be much of a
secret; for I never heard of anything to which six humans were privy
that didn’t at once become town gossip. And they must be aware of it,
for, from the Major to the Minor, they discriminate in favor of
Reveille in a manner most reprehensible.” The polo pony was famous
for the choiceness of his language and the neatness of his wit; but he
was slightly vain, as was shown by his adding: “Pretty good, that, eh?
Major—that’s the man we take out riding or driving. Minor—that’s
the three-year-old. Do you hitch up to that post?”
“Do they all know your secret, Reveille?” asked Lassie,
ingratiatingly.
“They think they do,” replied the veteran. “They don’t, though,” he
added; and then, heaving a sigh, he continued: “But the roan filly
did, and Mr. Lewis’s big grey, and dear old Sagitta—that was the
Russian wolf-hound, who died before any of you youngsters joined
our set.”
“Then I fail to perceive,” remarked the polo pony, “why they
should treat you differently, if they are ignorant of the circumstances
to which you refer.”
“My dear colt,” retorted Reveille, “when you are grown to
horsehood you will learn that we are all governed by our
imaginations, and not by our knowledge. Why do you shy at a scrap
of white paper? Superficially because you are nearly related to an ass,
actually because your fancy makes it into a white elephant.”
 “And how about your putting your head and tail up, and careering
all over the home lot, last summer, just because our Major fired his
revolver at a hawk? Were you an ass, too?” saucily questioned one of
the cobs.
“Probably,” assented the oldster, genially; “for that very incident
proves my point. What that shot reminded me of was the last time I
heard my Major fire his revolver. I saw a long, gentle slope, up which
a brigade of ‘secesh’ were charging to a railroad embankment
protected by a battery of twelve-pounders firing six rounds of case-
shot to the minute. And I was right among the guns again, seeing and
hearing it all; and my Major—only he was a captain then—was saying
as coolly and quietly as he orders the carriage now: ‘Steady, men,
steady! There’s a hundred yards yet, and they can’t stand it to the
finish. Double charge with canister! Three more rounds will settle
them.’ Which was just what it did. We horses, with the aid of the men
and guns, held the Weldon railroad, and Lee and his mules stopped
holding Richmond.”
“Doesn’t he tell a story beautifully?” remarked Bubbles, in a
distinctly audible aside to Lassie.
“I’ve never known a better raconteur,” answered Lassie, in a stage
whisper of equal volume.
“Lay you a peck of oats to a quart that the girls get that secret out
of him,” whispered the Majors saddle-horse, who, as a Kentuckian of
thoroughbred stock, had sporting and race-track proclivities.
“Not with me!” denied the second cob. “Besides, no gentleman
ever bets on a certainty. Gaze at the self-satisfied look on the old
fool’s phiz. Lord! how a pretty face and figure, combined with
flattery, can come it round the old ones!”
There could be no doubt about it. Reveille was smirking, though
trying not to desperately; and to aid his attempt, he went on, with a
pretence of unconscious musing, as if he were still in the past: “Yes;
we are ruled by our imaginations, and, consequently, though I have
reached the honourable but usually neglected period in life which
retires an officer and a horse from active service, I get a box-stall and
extra rations and perquisites.”
“How rarely is the story-telling faculty united with the
philosophical mind!” soliloquised Bubbles to the rafters.
 “And how rarely,” rejoined Lassie, “are those two qualities
combined with a finished, yet graphic, style!”
“I would gladly tell you that story,” said the old war-horse, “but it
isn’t one to be repeated. Every horse who isn’t a cow—to make an
Irish bull, which, by the bye, is a very donkeyish form of joke—has
done certain things that he has keenly regretted, even though he
believes that he acted for the good—just as brave soldiers will act as
spies, honourable lawyers defend a scoundrel, and good women give
‘at homes.’”
“What a decadence there has been in true wit!” remarked Lassie,
apropos of nothing. “It is such a pleasure to be put next a horse at
dinner whose idea of humour was formed before youthful pertness
was allowed to masquerade as wit.”
“It is a mortification to me to this day,” went on Reveille, “even
though the outcome has justified me. You know what our equine
code of honour is—how we won’t lie or trick or steal or kill, as the
humans do. Well, for nearly two months I was as false and tricky as a
man.”
“I don’t believe it,” dissented Bubbles.
“The truly great always depreciate themselves,” asserted one of the
mares.
“No, ladies, I speak the truth,” reiterated the warrior; “even now
the memory galls me worse than a spur.”
“It would ease your conscience, I am sure,” suggested Bubbles, “to
confess the wrong, if wrong there was. A highly sensitive and
chivalric nature so often takes a morbidly extreme view of what is at
most but a peccadillo.”
“This, alas! was no peccadillo,” sighed Reveille, “as you will
acknowledge after hearing it.”
“I may be a colt, but I’m not a dolt,” sneered the polo pony to
himself. “As if we weren’t all aware that the garrulous old fool has
been itching to inflict his long tail upon us for the last ten minutes.”
“My one consolation,” continued Reveille, “is that the roan filly
was in the traces with me and an equal culprit in—”
“I thought that one of the sex of Adam would saddle it on a woman
before he got through,” interjected the cob.
 “Cherchez la femme!” laughed the polo pony, delighted to trot out
his French.
“All I meant to suggest, ladies and gentlemen,” affirmed Reveille,
reflectively, “is that a woman is an excuse for anything. If this world
is a fine world, it is because she pulls the reins more often for good
than for bad.”
“‘Those who always praise woman know her but little; those who
always blame her know her not at all,’” quoted the worldly-wise
Kentuckian.
Reveille swallowed the last fragment of his second apple, cleared
his throat, and began:—
“It was after Five Forks, where my Captain got a major’s oak-leaf
added to his shoulder-straps, and a Minié ball in his arm, that the
thing began. When he came out of the hospital—long before he
should have, for the bone had been shattered, and took its own time
to knit—we hung about Washington, swearing at our bad luck, my
Major suffering worse than a docked horse in fly-time from the little
splinters of bone that kept working out, and I eating my head off in
—”
“History does repeat itself,” murmured the envious carriage-horse.
“Well, one day, after nearly three months of idleness, when I was
about dead with stalldom, I permitted the orderly to saddle me, and
after a little dispute with him as to my preferences, I let him take me
round to Scott Square. There for the first time I met the roan filly and
the big grey. She was a dear!” he added, with a sigh, and paused a
moment.
“Ah, don’t stop there!” begged one of the ladies.
“Get a gait on you,” exhorted the cob.
Reveille sighed again softly, shook his head, and then came back to
the present.
“‘May you never lack for oats and grass,’ said I, greeting them in
my most affable style.
“‘May you die in clover,’ responded the grey, nodding politely.
“‘May you have all the sugar you desire,’ added the filly, sweetly,
and greeting me with a graceful toss of the head. That told me that a
woman belonged to her, for men never give sugar. Sometimes, on a
forced march, my Major used to divide his ration of hardtack with
me; but I never tasted sugar until—well, we mustn’t get ahead too
fast.”
“No danger, while he is doing the lipping,” grumbled the
disagreeable cob.
“‘I see by your saddle that you are in the service,’ remarked the big
grey. ‘I am not so fortunate. Between ourselves, I think the fellow I
let ride me would do anything sooner than fight—though, now it’s all
over, he says if he’d returned from Europe in time he should have
gone into the army.’
“I shook my head dejectedly. ‘I’m very much off my feed,’ I told
them. ‘My Major is not able to ride, and won’t be for a long time, so
I’m horribly afraid I’ve been sold. I really wouldn’t have believed it of
him!’
“‘What things man is capable of doing!’ sighed the filly, with tears
of sympathy in her eyes.
“‘Cheer up, comrade,’ cried the grey, consolingly. ‘Even if you are
sold, you might be worse off. You are still a saddle-horse, and as Miss
Gaiety and I both have good stables, you probably will have the same
luck, since you are in our set. The fellow I carry spurred my
predecessor, when he was leg weary, at an impossible jump in
Leicestershire, and because he fell short and spoiled his knees the
brute ordered him sold, and he was put to dragging a huckster’s cart,
besides being half starved. You’re not so bad off as that yet.’
“Just then three people came out of the house before which we
were standing, and I can’t tell you how my heart jumped with joy,
and how my ears went forward, when I saw that one of them was my
Major. For the instant I was so happy that I felt like kicking up; but
the next moment I was ready to die with mortification at the thought
of how I had cheapened him to strangers. Think of my saying such
things to them of the best man that ever lived!
“‘That’s my Major,’ I told them, arching my neck and flicking my
tail with pride. ‘He held the Weldon railroad without—’”
“But you told us a little while ago,” protested Lassie, “that—”
“Yes, yes,” hastily broke in the story-teller with a note of
deprecation in his voice. “Don’t you see, girls, that having just
belittled him, I had to give him the credit of it, though really we
horses—But there, I won’t go into that now.”
“That much is saved!” muttered the cob.
“Walpole,” said the polo pony, “well described a certain period of
life when he denied that a man was in his dotage, but suggested that
he was in his ‘anecdotage.’”
“It was far from my intention—” Reveille began, with dignity.
“I do wish you would bridle your tongues, the two of you,” snapped
Bubbles. “It’s just what I should expect of a colt that has never seen
anything better than a poplar ball and a wooden mallet, and so
dislikes to hear of real battles. Please pay no heed to him, Mr.
Reveille.”
“We don’t notice either of them one curb or snaffle bit,” declared
Lassie, “so why should you? Forgive me for interrupting you, and do
tell us what you told the steeds about our Major?”
Reveille hesitated, and then resumed his tale: “‘His battery held
the Weldon railroad without any infantry supports,’ I told them,
adding, ‘Sheridan’s right-hand man. Perfect devil at fighting, and the
kindest human in the world.’
“The roan filly, being a woman, answered: ‘He looks both;’ but the
grey, being something more stupid, remarked: ‘Then what made you
think he had sold you?’
“‘Dear Mr. Solitaire,’ cried the mare, ‘you must know that we all
say things in society, not because we think them, but to make
conversation. I knew Mr.—thank you, Mr. Reveille—was joking the
moment he spoke.’ I tell you, gentlemen, women can put the blinders
on facts when they really try!
“‘What do you think of my Felicia?’ asked Miss Gaiety.
“I had been so taken up with my dear that I hadn’t so much as
looked at hers. But, oh, fellows, she was a beauty! Filly built, right
through—just made to be shown off by a habit; hair as smooth as a
mare’s coat, and as long and thick as an undocked tail; eyes—oh,
well, halter it! there is no use trying to describe her eyes, or her nose,
or her mouth, or her smile. She was just the dearest, loveliest darling
that I ever did see!
 “Mr. Lewis was putting her up, while my poor dear stood watching
them, with a look in his face I had never seen. Now, when there was
anything to be done, my Major was always the man who did it, and it
puzzled me why he had let Mr. Lewis get the better of him. The next
instant I saw that his right arm was still in a sling, and that his
sword-sash was used to tie it to his body. Then I knew why he had an
up-and-down line in his forehead, and why he bit his mustache.
“‘Can I give you any help, Major Moran?’ asked Mr. Lewis, when
he had helped Miss Fairley mount.
“‘Thanks, no,’ answered my pal, rather curtly, I thought; and
putting his left hand on me, into the saddle he vaulted. But he was
foolish to do it, as he said ‘Ouch!’ below his breath; and he must have
turned pale, for Miss Fairley cried out, ‘Mr. Lewis, quick! He’s going
to faint!’
“‘Nothing of the kind,’ denied my backer, giving a good imitation
laugh, even while his hand gripped my neck and I felt him swerve in
the saddle. ‘Miss Fairley, I will not let even you keep me an
interesting invalid. If there was any fighting left, I should long since
have been ordered to the front by the surgeons; but now they wink
their eyes at shirking.’
“‘I told you you ought not to go, and now I’m sure of it,’ urged Miss
Fairley. ‘You’ll never be able to control such a superb and spirited
horse with only your left arm.’”
“Bet that’s a subsequent piece of embroidery,” whispered the polo
pony to his nearest neighbor.
“Now, I have to confess that I had come out of the stable feeling
full of friskiness, and I hadn’t by any means worked it off on the
orderly, much of a dance as I’d given him. But the way I put a check-
strap on my spirits and dropped my tail and ears and head was a
circumstance, I tell you.
“‘There’s not the slightest cause for alarm,’ my confrère answered
her. ‘The old scamp has an inclination to lose his head in battle, but
he’s steady enough as a roadster.’
“‘I really wish, though, that you wouldn’t insist on coming,’
persisted Miss Fairley, anxiously. ‘You know—’
“‘Of course, Miss Fairley,’ interrupted my Major, with a nasty little
laugh, ‘if you prefer to have your ride a solitude à deux, and I am in
—’
“‘Shall we start?’ interrupted Miss Fairley, her cheeks very red, and
her eyes blazing. She didn’t wait for an answer, but touched up the
filly into a trot, and for the first mile or two not a word would she say
to my colleague; and even when he finally got her to answer him, she
showed that she wasn’t going to forget that speech.
“Well, what began like this went from bad to worse. He wasn’t
even aware that he had been shockingly rude, and never so much as
apologised for his speech. When Miss Fairley didn’t ask him to ride
with them the next day, he ordered me saddled, and joined them on
the road; and this he did again and again, though she was dreadfully
cool to him. My dear seemed unable to behave. He couldn’t be
himself. He was rude to Mr. Lewis, sulky to Miss Fairley, and kept a
dreadful rein on me. That week was the only time in my life when he
rode me steadily on the curb. My grief! how my jaw did ache!”
“I wish it would now,” interrupted the cob, sulkily. Let it be said
here that horses are remarkably sweet-natured but this particular
one was developing a splint, and was inevitably cross.
“Don’t be a nag,” requested one of the mares.
“The roan filly always blamed my Major for making such a mess of
the whole thing; but even though I recognised how foolish he was to
kick over the traces, I saw there were reasons enough to excuse him.
In the first place, he enlisted when he was only nineteen, and having
served straight through, he had had almost no experience of women.
Then for six months he had been suffering terribly with his arm, with
the result that what was left of his nerves were all on edge. He began
to ride before he ought, and though I did my best to be easy, I
suppose that every moment in the saddle must have caused him
intense pain. Finally, he had entered himself for the running only
after Mr. Lewis had turned the first mile-post and had secured the
inside track. I really think, if ever a man was justified in fretting on
the bit my chum was.
“At the end of the week Miss Gaiety bade me good-bye. ‘I heard
Mr. Fairley say that we could now go back to Yantic; that’s where we
live, you know,’ she told me. ‘It’s been a long job getting our claim for
uniforms and blankets allowed, but the controller signed a warrant
yesterday. I’m really sorry that we are to be separated. If your