I, Effing Feline, want to sleep. And when I want to sleep, I sleep, know what I mean? After all, I’m a cat. But today I can’t sleep because I have a blog post due, hiss the $#^!* thing.
So here it is, quick and dirty. Read silently, don’t even move your lips, because I’m going to be napping!
The heroine of Galactic Enemy, currently calling herself “Lou,” knocks out a guy she thinks is an intruder, then discovers he’s an innocent (and seriously ill) new roommate. He has taken a sleeping pill and she’s been vaccinated against his disease, so Lou has the courage to crawl under the covers with him, prepared to bolt at the first sign of him waking up . . . or so she thinks.
Lou floated to awareness. She was warm—she knew that much, but not much else. It was a bone-deep warmth, syrupy and relaxed, and she hadn’t felt cozy like this in far too long.
She yawned, and after a moment, opened her eyes. She was on her back with her head turned toward a man.
Her cheek snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder. His arm was flung across her chest and belly to cradle her hip with a large, overly intimate hand. She froze; stopped breathing, even.
Effing Feline here again. I feel much better now that I’ve had my nap. I don’t understand why this woman wakes up so confused. I NEVER wake up confused. Hungry, yes. Confused, no.
Love thy Galactic Enemy
Abandoned to the enemy’s tender mercy
Minta Streave, the naive secretary for a spy team that spread a man-made plague, leaves the planet too late — the team abandons her on the enemy’s space station. She’s must fend for herself until she can contact an elusive spy, Watcher, to take her home. To forestall arrest, she nurses a plague victim — a gentle, whimsical man who quotes Lewis Carroll. But to know this enemy is to love him . . .
When Finn Shanwing falls ill, he doesn’t intend to hide that he’s a high-ranking commando. Nor does he intend to fall in love with the secretive nurse who saves his life. By the time he reveals to Minta that she saved an enemy officer, it’s too late for his heart — or hers. Also too late to escape the wrath of Watcher, half-human, half-machine, and both halves obsessed with her.