In Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Quinn, is a free-spirited scamp and an aboriginal American from an alternate earth. He is fleeing from police sergeant Squitt when the incident that propels the book’s action takes him by surprise — a terrorist bomb explodes in the ballroom where dignitaries and heads of state are celebrating the birth of Kwadra Island’s new heir to the throne.
And Squitt seems to know it’s about to happen . . .
He was almost across the suspension footbridge over a ravine when Squitt bulled her way through the underbrush. “Aretta,” she cried in Shanoog.
Quinn didn’t aretta. Instead, he dived for the steep bank of the ravine — and then ducked low, because Squitt had taken out her service pistol.
“Put up your hands.” She aimed the noisy American weapon at his chest.
Although insulted by this uncalled-for escalation of their game of cat and mouse, Quinn knew better than to argue with a pistol. He knelt on the grass and raised his hands.
“Stay right there.” Her face was triumphant as she stomped across the creaking footbridge. It swayed and jerked with each step.
She was almost across when she paused. Her eyes narrowed and her face went blank. Consulting her communications implant, probably, and the call must’ve been awfully important to stop her in the middle of a hot pursuit. With wide eyes, Squitt stared up the ravine toward the vast window of the nearby hotel ballroom.
“No,” she shrieked, “delay for five seconds. Delay!” Then she cursed, grabbed the flimsy rope railing with both hands, and hunched over defensively.
And the world went insane.
A deep rumble, like a giant’s belch, battered the air. The ground shook in terror. The ballroom’s window shattered with the tinkling roar of a million oversized bees loosed from the depths of Hell.
Next came a blast of tornado-force wind, hot and overpowering. Quinn tumbled to the ground with his head pointing down the slope leading to a precipice.
Then smoke and clattering shards of glass filled the air. A book-sized chunk knifed into the ground between his thumb and forefinger, miraculously leaving his flesh intact. He yanked his hand away —
— which wrecked his balance and sent him sliding toward the cliff’s edge.
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?