In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne met Quinn Lebatarde, wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform. For safety from a rebel attack, they’re in one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra Island. Charleyjohn is supposed to be her bodyguard.
When they hear furtive sounds like the footsteps of a huge rat she gets to see him in action. Last week’s hook ended with “The footsteps slowed as they drew close to the intersection. Charleyjohn flattened himself against the wall and waited, knife at the ready.”
Note: Klootch is a mildly unflattering Kwadran word for woman, roughly equivalent to broad.
Quinn waited, the stiletto solid and reassuring in his hand. At the same time, it felt ridiculous. His modus operandi was to run from danger. He could handle himself okay in a fight—he was still alive, after all—but he was a Superman at running. Pressing his back against the wall, he willed the soft footsteps to turn around and leave. But they kept coming.
Why the Hell’s ding-dongs was he doing this?
Because of the Harmon klootch, of course. Marianne Harmon’s heart-shaped face was cute, if you liked European types. Best of all, under the prince’s jacket she wore a gauzy ball gown designed to bug a guy’s eyes right out of his head. More than anything, he wanted to live long enough to see that dress without the jacket hiding it.
A ball gown was making him leap into combat like a mush-brained hero? The klootch’s first words had hit the bull’s-eye. He was an idiot.
The footsteps paused. Had the intruder heard something?
Quinn pounced around the corner while the pouncing was good. The intruder was turned away, so he caught the guy by surprise. Just like a real hero, Quinn grabbed him around the chest, trapping his arms, and put the knife to his throat.
Uh, no. Not his throat. Her throat.
It was a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with straight, black Kwadran hair that fell to her waist. She smelled of shampoo. He hoped the klootch couldn’t see him holding a knife on a little kid wearing pajamas and a robe with Hello Kitty appliqués.
He released the girl and opened his mouth to apologize and ask if he’d hurt her.
Kicking backward, the kid whacked his shin with the heel of her sturdy shoes. With a yip of outraged pain, Quinn dropped the knife and hopped backward on one foot.
He didn’t see her next kick, aimed at his crotch, until it was too late.
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 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?