Continuing from last week’s selection from Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, we see several important things:
- The success of Quinn’s con job
- Our first glimpse of the heroine, though from a distance
- Our first glimpse of the antagonist, up close
But first, the tourists from Oklahoma object to Quinn raising the price for the phony wood carving he’s selling them.
The woman’s voice grew loud. “Give us back our money.”
Quinn turned with a sigh, cradling their carving in his arms. “Ninety dollah more.”
“That’s robbery.” The man’s face was red. Through thin white hair, his scalp showed red, too. “I ought to call one of your gendarmes.”
They sure as salmon guts weren’t his gendarmes. “Okay, okay,” Quinn said as though heartbroken. “You Uncle Homos too smart for simple Kwadran like me. Only forty dollah more.”
“That’s more like it.” The man dug out his wallet.
After Quinn took two twenty-dollar bills and handed over the carving, he glanced up at the huge window in the new Hilton Kwadra Island, a short distance uphill from this street. Though he couldn’t see details, he glimpsed the unmistakable purple-and-white uniform of Prince Reese Eaglesbrood. The prince climbed the grand stairway toward the hotel’s private suites, one arm around the waist of a woman in a pale blue dress. She was blond — Merkin, obviously, because Kwadrans had dark hair — and her shoulders were bare. Pretty soon Prince Reese would have the rest of her bare, too, and he’d show the klootch good, hard Kwadran lovemaking, over and over until she fainted from pleasure and exhaustion.
“Do her real good, prince,” Quinn whispered in his native language, Shanoog. “For our side.” His fantasy shifted so it was him pounding the bare-shouldered pixie. He’d do her even better than the prince would. Yeah . . .
The fantasy popped when a giant of a woman stepped in front of him. A woman he knew, which wasn’t good. Worse and worser — a woman who knew him.
“Well, well,” she said in Shanoog. “We meet again, Maquinna Lebatarde.”
“Merde,” Quinn whispered in the same language.
She stood four finger-widths taller than him and as many hand-widths broader. Covering her massive body was the severe garb of the Kwadra Island Gendarmerie. The black and white uniform was meant to evoke a killer whale, the terror of the seas, and on her, it looked predatory indeed. Sergeant Desrielle Squitt had arrested him six times and seemed gleefully intent on seven. In his overlarge experience, she was the smartest, strongest, most determined gendarme of all. A true pain in the blowhole.
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
Marianne is sick and tired of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?