Author: E.M. Hamill
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 8/7/17
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Genre: science fiction, space travel, third gender, interspecies sex, kidnapping, genderfluid, space opera
Dalí Tamareia has everything—a young family and a promising career as an Ambassador in the Sol Fed Diplomatic Corps. Dalí’s path as a peacemaker seems clear, but when their loved ones are killed in a terrorist attack, grief sends the genderfluid changeling into a spiral of self-destruction.
Fragile Sol Fed balances on the brink of war with a plundering alien race. Their skills with galactic relations are desperately needed to broker a protective alliance, but in mourning, Dalí no longer cares, seeking oblivion at the bottom of a bottle, in the arms of a faceless lover, or at the end of a knife.
The New Puritan Movement is rising to power within the government, preaching strict genetic counseling and galactic isolation to ensure survival of the endangered human race. Third gender citizens like Dalí don’t fit the mold of this perfect plan, and the NPM will stop at nothing to make their vision become reality. When Dalí stumbles into a plot threatening changelings like them, a shadow organization called the Penumbra recruits them for a rescue mission full of danger, sex, and intrigue, giving Dalí purpose again.
Risky liaisons with a sexy, charismatic pirate lord could be Dalí’s undoing—and the only way to prevent another deadly act of domestic terrorism.
E.M. Hamill © 2017
All Rights Reserved
The room echoed with the sound of our breathing, metallic clatter of weapons, solid convergence of flesh and mat as he threw me down to the floor. My offensive hand was paralyzed by his grip as he knelt above me; the point of his weapon hung over my throat and advanced slowly even with his wrist trapped in my left hand.
“Yield,” I gasped, “or I might hurt you.”
“You think so?”
I pushed my knee firmly against the sensitive organs between his legs. Rhix grunted in surprise.
“Conceded.” He rose, extending a hand to help me roll to my feet and continued. “I warned you about mercy.”
“Does that mean you want me to crush your raho next time?”
“No,” he said hastily. “Simply, do not hesitate to employ your advantages, whether you are armed or naked.”
“Naked?” My thoughts swan dived into innuendo.
“Without a blade.” Judged by the speed with which his awakening pheromones circulated through my olfactory system, our minds occupied the same gutter. “Your form needs work. There is an exercise that will help familiarize you with the transitions.”
His dagger blurred into an arc as he performed another lightning-paced kata, the knife’s edge changing directions almost quicker than my eye could follow. The formfitting garments we trained in disguised nothing; his body’s agile movement, the play of muscle beneath skin, and his chemical shortcut to my sex drive had my pulse racing before he turned back to me, his breathing accelerated from martial effort.
“Like this.” Rhix repeated the first series in slow motion, and I mirrored him.
“Yes. Again, but let your body counterbalance the strike.” He moved behind me and controlled my speed, his correction of my technique more sensual than any of my militia instructors would have tolerated. “Widen your stance. Your center is here.” Hands drifted to rest at my hips, breath close to my ear. “Until you know the form, the movement is slow. A dance with death.” His hips rocked with mine, thighs pressed against me, the nudge of hardening flesh impossible to miss.
Arousal kindled warmth everywhere in my body. Always ready to do more stupid things.
Pretense of training fell away. I pressed back against him, yielding to the hand exploring the contour of my ribs, up to the swelling of my breast, which rose to meet his touch. A sound of approval vibrated deep in his throat. His other hand still enveloped mine, gripping the training blade, and Rhix brought it up, guiding me to brush the flat edge over a tightening nipple. My breath caught in an appreciative gasp. His other hand slid over the tight fabric covering my abdomen, and down.
The transition state between neutral and female had only begun, my mons prominent as the tissue beneath prepared to shift inside. My free hand interrupted the movement before his fingertips brushed the protuberant area. He persisted despite my resistance. The hesitant, featherlight touch as he discovered the engorged flesh wrested a groan of pleasure from me. I guided his hand to trace the area in a gentle circle. Instead of pulling away, he continued to explore, the surge against my backside a positive response. On the hilt of the knife, our fingers intertwined.
It brought us up short and to attention, thoughts of foreplay extinguished by the cold rush of danger.
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Meet the Author
E.M. Hamill is a nurse by day, sci fi and fantasy novelist by night. She lives in eastern Kansas with her family, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse. She also writes young adult material under the name Elisabeth Hamill. Her first novel, SONG MAGICK, won first place for YA fantasy in the 2014 Dante Rossetti Awards for Young Adult Fiction.
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