Good Gone Bad by Giana Darling

Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men, #3)Good Gone Bad by Giana Darling

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This was a long awaited book for me. The sassy princess Harleigh Rose / ‘Rosie’ from the Fallen MC having to go undercover to save her family.

And Lionel ‘Lion’ Danner the good cop with a secret Dom side that meets her submissive side.

Great story well told.

Pity that the Wrath and his lady are killed. The utter disrespect given to the black woman, shot and thrown into the sea reflected a lot of the rather xenophobic attitudes and behaviour that are being fuelled and celebrated by some of the more prominent western countries.

Sad that this book had to use its own subtle influence in such a despicable way, Was really disappointed by that.

On one hand I could say, Ms Darling could do better.
Everyone has influence. How you weird it shows a lot about you.

But hey, ho, I suppose writers are free to have heir artistic licence and kill women or minorities however they choose. If you as a reader don’t like it, you don’t have to buy the books.

Whelp, I don’t like it.

View all my reviews


#AILF9 Capricorn Rising Part 2 of 3 – Speaking…with Tongues

Thanks to @brittanymarshall for this inspiring pic…#AILF


Part 2 of 2 Capricorn Rising



Aruiyen snorted and sat up sharply, cracking his horns against the sleep chamber. The sharp decompression of his quarters had activated the re-life cycle of his stasis closet. 


He pushed the seamless latch and the fogged front wall clicked, breaking the seal causing the sleep fluid to seek out with an angry hiss, turning to a harmless but annoyingly foggy soup of breathable gases. 


Auriyen climbed out of the chamber. 

“Report” He barked

“Decompression alert in the cargo hold, sire” came the  cautious response.

His sister’s tup, Senroth. Auriyen snorted in irritation.

It figured that something would kick of during that calf-lick’s shift.


“It wasn’t me uncle Auri” the Navigator said quickly.

“I was just talking with the M’gg-humale-”

“It’s human. Or female. Not humale-”

Wait. Why for all the realm were you at converse with the human? Has it passed your memory  – the damage caused to medi bay? Or the human male’s attempts to sabotage the ship? Or his final demise?”


“The female asked for a short break from quarters, and the security detail was en route, but she was not found when they arrived. Sire”

“Well find her!” Auriyen had bellowed, his heart thumping in fear. There were many small spaces that could trap and freeze a tiny human on his ship.


He grabbed his garments and slung his cape around his neck, preparing to step out when a slight noise above his head gave him pause.


“Oh shit” the words were very low, bit discernible. 

And E were coming from the air tunnels.


Smiling, Auriyen slowly put down his garments and crouched in the darkness, his cape forgotten as he waited for the human to appear.


The Shara-ein had surpassed itself, not only finding but installing ancient vocalisers, enabling the vermin to understand simple commands and be understood in return. 


It’s language had been rudimentary, so it was easily synthesised, then fed into the archives, as an upgrade for the highbred Oxenia Prime clans that could afford it. Or those that made petition a donated version for their young bucks.


The humans, he had to remind other crew members to address them as such, had both been taken to medi bay to be implanted.  The male had shoved the shorter human in front of him and cowered, blubbering as the equipment for the three phase procedure was set up. 

The needle thin probe for the vocaliser

And the two slim finger like probes for providing the sterilisation and perma-coating of their ingest and egress cavities. 


The smaller human had marched forward muttering “Ggggggd Brrud! kuwrrd mush?. Yh bgpyzzi!” 

The Shara-ein had established later in the months that followed that a ‘puzzi’ was a dishonourable male. 

And a ‘byg puzzi’ was a totally irredeemable one.


Since the incident the smaller human, M’gg, had initially refused to be housed with the Brrud, but had been ignored. 


But the Brrud had deteriorated in mind and after a heated shouting where parentage was called into question, a small circlet of what looked like the metal smelted to power the transfer beam had been torn from her small hand and flung at his feet. He had seen that as a slight but had not reared to bash heads in resolution. Rather he had grasped her arm and then laid hands upon her person. The shrill scream of terror convinced Auriyen to order two separate smaller holds to be set up immediately.


The male had not settled, his actions seeking to set alight his quarters, inflict cutting wounds on those who stood security and finally a deadly quiet stillness, sitting for hours starting at the wall. 


Within the sennight a frantic video Comm from Senroth, poor lad, had resolved the worsening state of the human.


“Sire! The male is no more” Senroth had wailed in horror.


“And the male tricked me, sire! He asked if I had authority for security over ride, which of course I do. So I told him yes, and he said I did not, so I defended my honour and swore on the horns of my mother, but he just laughed and pointed at the airlock in his hold and wagered I couldn’t over ride that valve, and I said it was an airlock, not a security panel, but he wagered I was at fault in my understanding, and before I knew it he had jumped on the lock without warning and I could not re-engage it and he was torn out of the, the…the air. L-lock. Sire. But it was too quick to arrest the breach. And he sort of gasped once then bounced off the side of the carrier and floated away from us too fast to traction him back…” Senroth ran out of breath and strength, slumping in his seat.


“Brother Auriyen. Tis a hand of fate that has claimed the Brrud human so” the Baron at Arms on duty as always, had placed a calming hand on Senroth’s shoulder and stared down the vid Comm pointedly.

“Better to return to O-Prime with one sane sentient vermin, human my apologies, than with the beasts of that planet, and one sane and one mad human. The Rangor would call for Baa’an feud and seek to shame you, sire.”


Auriyen had hated to admit his Baron was right. 

But he had chosen to break the news to the M’gg.

She had been shaken but not suprised. Auriyen had been drawn to spend more time with the soft spoken yet feisty alien. They helped each other learn their respective tongue.


“Brrud thought it was his bad karma” she had said to him at a visit that he had invited her to last meal in his quarters. 

“He spent his life wanting to be a bull rider. Only to find himself captured and on his way to a land where the Bulls and Rams rule? It tore him up inside. And no one could help him except himself” M’gg had sighed sadly before Auriyen smoothly diverted her attention with tales of the Oxian Prime court.


They had chatted and laughed and Auriyen had felt the unfamiliar and coveted rush of rutting fire as he inhaled her heady scent. 


The Shara-ein had explained the miraculous arrival. The blue planet human was a female, with monthly courses. Auriyen had stared blankly at the technic

“She is fertile, sire. And compatable. ” he had said. “Do you desire us to test our comparability level through active research?”

“No!” Auriyen had bellowed, cracking his forehead against the Shara-ein’s equally dense head plates smartly.


“She is to remain untouched!”


That had been six months ago. The carrier had refuelled, landing at exotic destinations, and Aruiyen had taken M’gg to see wonders and sights to amaze and delight her.  


He was careful to have the crew sealed and isolated from her during her period of courses, but it was proving difficult.


Then last night after the regular weekly dinner invite to his quarters and a rousing game of Rams Luck, which she won, she had hooted in glee and he had grabbed her, swinging her round, as proud as any ram with a baby tup. She had pressed her pouty rosebud mouth against his and for a brief moment he had tasted heaven.


In fear of the Unknown he had ordered all but the most essential crew to stasis for the remainder of the journey home.


And now she was roaming the ship, sneaking into his quarters.  He inhaled, her enhanced heady mix of honey, cream and female danced over his senses.


The ceiling vent above opened and her tiny feet, with the strange coverings Shara-win had manufactured by replicator waved frantically above his head. She was in the traditional linen shift worn by women but in the increased thickness in the air, it lifted, displaying her pert naked flanks.


For a split second M’gg hung before dropping lightly to the floor..

Meg and Auriyen

“He pounced, chuckling as she let out a high squeak, still trying to be stealthy and quiet.


His thick arms banded around her legs as his tail whipped lightly across the two round globes of her flanks. 

“It is night time, little one” he growled, noting that her shift had caught in the vent and dangled above his head.

“I was bored. And a bit afraid, and also fed up of being alone” Meg said softly

“How can I soothe your fears” Auriyans arms tightened slightly, his hands curved around her smooth thighs.


She smoothed her tiny hands along his shoulders, entranced by the feel of his warm muscled frame.


“How can I soothe your fears” Auriyans arms tightened slightly, his hands curved around her smooth thighs.


Auriyen looked up, watching as the thick air lifted her hair to spread it across her shoulders and float it about her head


“Maybe, tonight, you could help me with your…tongue” 


Meg grinned as the Grand Vizer growled softly “It would be my honour, little one” Auriyen, defender of worlds, claw of Blood and Death smiled to himself as he leaned forward slowly. And complied.

#AILF9 Capricorn Rising Part 1 of 3 – the cattle are a-lowing…

Capricorn Rising Part 1 of 2 #AILF


(A long time ago, in a land far away…)

Blork shunted backwards, his hooves clattering over the stone walkway.

“What’s this?” Auriyen, the Grand Vizer stomped a silver tipped hoof once with impatience. He glared at the clerk, ignoring the grunt’s clammy hand outstretched towards him, and the info orb that rattled with nerves in his clammy outstretched paw.


“We have f-found an inhabited p-planet, sire” Blork stammered, nervous, exited and fearful all at once.


The orb rattled wildly again. Auriyen snatched it out of the clerk’s hand before the imbecile dropped and broke it. He peered into its contents, checking it contained the information he had authorised for distribution to the clan leaders, huffed, then ground the delicate info sphere to dust between his meaty paws.


“It’s many peoples are scattered across its surface” Blork muttered nervously. 

He was a stubborn brat. Auriyen glowered and scrapped his hoof long and gratingly slow on the flagstones. This limelight was for meant for the Vizer, not the grunt. 


“Well?” The Grand Vizer swung his great head around, arms flung out in haughty anger as he turned slowly, his haughty gaze rising to survey the gently sloping hills filled with clans gathered for his Pronouncement on this discovery.


“Why have we not made contact?” He glared at Blork, scrapping his hoof again.


Blork swallowed hard, his own hoof pecking nervously several times on the flagstone. He clutched his thigh unconsciously, as if to still the nervous tic and tried to stutter out his analysis as practised that morn with the Grand Vizer.


‘Technicians of Oxenia Prime’s greatest archives would teach future grunt clerks about this day.’ Blork thought suddenly.

Blork, the Wise, would become part of the syllabus. 


The data was undisputed. And his 13 years of unwavering, considered analysis of this data would not, COULD not be faulty.


He stood up a little straighter, tapping his hoof once in certainty. Grounding himself. 


“Well, sire. Here’s the thing. They aren’t responding” Blork stepped back a few more paces as the wide head of Auriyen lowered into his trademark glower.


“We believe they are captives of the vermin that populate the planet!” That unscripted, braying shout from the elder of Blork’s clan -he was also Bork’s pompous windbag of a father, Auriyen huffed dourly to himself. 


Blork Senior’s accusation was quickly taken up by his fellows.


“Captive, so they are!”

“They must be freed! 


We must act!”


Auriyen lifted his hand for silence and an expectant hush fell over the group. When all that could be heard were was the rustle of the grass that covered the steppes on which the clans gatherings were held and the haunting song of the herd finches he spoke.

“Who shall go to parlay? Which clan has strength of horn and hoof to accomplish this task”


A shout went up, the 15 clans almost a unanimous voice in their clamouring.


“Baa’ an Clan! The clan of Auriyen!” 

Auriyen gave a cold satisfied smile. His sharply angled head lifted up, flexing this thick neck and powerful massive shoulders.


“And what of the bounty to be wrung from the captors? Who among us is fit to seize? Who among us is fit to judge?  And Who. Among. Us. Is fit to punish?”


Again the loud shout rose to shake the open hillside, the noise rolling down the lush green steppes like an avalanche 


“Auriyen! The grace of Auriyen decides all!”


Auriyen, Grand Vizor, former outcast but now champion warlord, braced apart his muscled thighs. Claw tipped fingers clenched in gripping fist he punched the air above his head


“We bring freedom to our people! And punishment to all captors!”

 The assembled clans of elders went wild, stomping and leaping about. Clan Rangor elders rushed to and fro across their steppes, kicking all who foolishly stood behind them as they charged past.


The thirty elders of Clan Baa’an rose in unison. Each slowly stomped their left hoof, their clawed right hand matching the rhythm, thumping their massive chests,  the tempo getting faster and faster, their powerful tails whipping audibly as they bayed low and loud in support.  


A few of the younger Baa’an elders in training forgot themselves, turning to grab each other’s lapels to crack their bone dense thick foreheads together brutally, yelling as comrades with arrogance in an undignified display.


Even the thoughtful docile, long haired Shara-ein clan though they remained seated, took on the frenzy, a song of an ancient war chant bursting forth, their gray faces splitting wide as each of their voices swelled the noise in warbling glorious song.


Sharia-ein In Song



The heavenly orb of light bathed the hillside in its warm heat, seeming to shine even brighter as Auriyen stomped purposefully around the stony worn flagstones of the Elders circle shouting “We leave on the morrow. And the clawed hand of Death and Blood be on all who stand against us.  Ready the battleships!”


Auriyen stomped out of the enclosure well satisfied. ‘So. That’s another twenty year reign secure and under hoof.’ He chuckled contentedly to himself.



(Earth’s orbit Present Day)

Auriyen the Fifty Third, freight carrier captain, Hand of Blood and Death and direct descendent of the first Grand Vizer dragged his hand over his face, then scrubbed the bristles of his jutting jaw. His massive head and shouldes and brooding glare confirmed his shared bloodline with his ancestor.


He pushed the large floating Orb of Record away from his command console and watched the images from the famed Pronouncement flicker as the Orb bobbed gently in the shuttle. The historical edict to bring freedom to the oppressed, re-enacted for the planetary archives and played on repeat at all annual celebrations, had fuelled his people’s drive for the technological advancements they now wielded.


He sighed. Shot a glare of dislike at the holoscreen projection of the inhabitants of the cargo hold, then sighed again.


Someone was going to die. 

Die a death of slow but intense pain.


Fifty two generations of subsequent leaders, eons used to acquire the weaponry and advanced technology needed to journey to the polluted blue planet. 


Only to arrive to find out the horrifying truth.


There were none like his people -or any clan known to populate his homeworld,  Oxenia Prime, in THIS universe.


Yes, the inhabitants of this ghastly blue planet of plague and death had not responded. But not due to captivity.


‘Damn that imbecile Blork the Wise’ he muttered to himself, rising to his feet. Auriyen vowed to have the statue of the fabled archive technician torn down and ground into dust for use in all the wasteland’s privy closets.


He stomped back down to the cargo hold, passing through the red beamed cross hatched laser security. He waited for the low bellow that confirmed his authority to enter, then stepped forward, slapping apart the cargo hold forcefield.


The smell caused bile to rise up through his first stomach until he tamped down his reactions.

They had crapped themselves. 


The tan coloured mutes looked over at him, whites of their eyes rolling wildly as they thrashed and stomped about. The females cried pitifully, stamping with the pressure of feeding time now missed.


He needed to return them.


To the rainy islands, the wide open plains, the cold blustery tundra the crew had ’emancipated’ them from.


A loud bellow from a wet nosed, black and white female, her full, pendulous peach tinted long tipped teats swaying in their strangely placed housing between her hind legs, made him grimace in crushing defeat.


Once aboard, none stood upright. Stubbornly choosing to remain on all hoofed fours. Encouragement to shift from this camouflage was rudely ignored.


All attempts to communicate and inform them of the thousand year crusade for their freedom had been met with either stony silence, a sloppy face lick or, in the case of a rather randy male, an attempt to mount him when Auriyen had once mistakenly turned his back to them.


That one. 

Auriyen glared balefully at the randy male who tossed his wide horns, huffed through his nose and promptly lifted his tufted tail to let fall a steaming slurry and clods of dark brownish green waste.


That male was being returned immediately. 

The area it had been taken from was vast, an area named, as the navigator informed the crew, as the Tixus lung-Hrnn hamlet.


“We are returned to the hamlet, Auriyen sire” the Navigator’s voice boomed in the cargo enclosure causing a repeat of the stomping.  The awful damned wordless noise from the freed aliens started up.


“Make it quick, you can return the others shortly, but I want that male off this carriership now!” Auriyen barked. 

“And get this bay enviro-sanitised immediately!”

The sniggered “Right away, sire” promised a vicious beating in the training pen for that navigator before Auriyen would allow him to crawl into his stasis pod for the long journey home.


The  swelling electrified light of the transfer beam bathed the cargo bay suddenly, capturing Auriyen and the bellowing Tixus alien in its glow before Auriyen could step out of its reach. 

“Argh!” his shout of ire boomed as suddenly, he found himself in the open, on the surface of the smelly polluted planet, his iron clad hooves and calves sunk up to the knees in the soft muddy planet surface.


“By the Golden Hoof of Baa’an Goreem!” Auriyen shouted into his comm piece. “Navigator, What have you done?!” 


He looked about sharply, noting that their arrival planet side  him, the randy ma had caught the attention of others, namely other females from the randy one’s harem, he suspected, who now moved at growing pace , jostling and clattering towards them.


“Apologies, sire!” The Navigator’s voice echoed in his ear, no longer sniggering, the trembling tone a dread realisation that his last breaths were likely to be painful and would coincide with Auriyen’s safe return to the space battleship. 


Auriyen backed away from the fast approaching foolish females, darted out from the centre of the returned group and swung round, his dark high necked cape of office swirling around his legs.


“I am retreating to this structure ahead. Mark my coord intends, you calf-lick and get me off this cesspit.” Auriyen charged towards the large strangely shaped tall and wide building that yawned wide at both ends.  A high, then even higher pitched gabble of noise could be heard coming from inside. 


The vermin.


No matter. This was most likely a small clutch of the fur less vermin that roamed unrestrained across the planet. 


Hoof and horn free, they bred in numbers and gathered together in herd enclosures surrounded with lights and stone. At night time, the time agreed best for when he had done his first reconnoitre, he has seen the vermin’s steeds. All shiny metal that shot lights from the front and back as they hurled along the preset paths all blackened and hardened by use.


He marched into the large structure, determined to shoo the hairless vermin out and get some peace whilst he waited for transfer beam return.


He smiled grimly, planning how hard to smack down the Navigator for this blunder.


The gabble stopped as two of the vermin, shrouded in thick leggings made of material the colour of their darkened sky looked over at him. The slightly taller, less rounded of the vermin let out a high pitched bellow, turned and started to run away.


“Aha, we have your position. Now, sire!” The Navigator’s disembodied voice was triumphant as the crackling transferring beam blasted through the enclosure, returning Auriyen and the the two screeching vermin aliens to the now empty cargo hold.



Brad and Meg Grayson had been arguing.



The ranch had been poorly managed for years as Brad chased one hopeless venture (and women ) after another across the state of Wyoming, his selfish plans of competitive bull riding ignoring both his  vows to marry his fiancé and the life savings Meg and her late father had sunk in the breeding ranch for their famed Texas Longhorn cattle.


Eight years in and Meg had had enough. Enough of the struggle of managing the ranch single handed after Brad took off again, and the increased costs. Even the death of her father last year had not swayed Brad to return and settle down. Instead he was still promising ‘This’ll be my big break. it’s just one more year, babe’ as he set off chasing the silver buckle from the rodeo competitions in his home state of Wyoming.


Then a few fays ago, rustlers had taken Major, the Longhorn prized bull and left no trace. With the ranch sale hanging on the quality of their stock of cattle, that loss had threatened the deal.


And had been the only thing to bring Brad back to salvage the sale.


“How could you have let Major get stolen and not inform the Rocking D?” Brad glared at Meg, his hand waving angrily out at the paddock and fields beyond the open barn.

“As buyers they need to know a day-”


“I did not ALLOW Major to get stolen, Brad! Jeez, anyone would think I rolled out the trailer and hooked it up to the rustler’s truck myself.” 


Meg thumped each clenched fists onto her waist, eyes flashing as she glared back at Brad. He could be a cruel ass sometimes.


“All I know is that a few nights ago a truck or SOMETHING came on to the land. No idea how they got past the font gate security.” Meg’s shoulders slumped in defeat.


“I saw the truck’s really bright head beams from the ranch house but, by the time I got the ATV out there, the herd including Major had disappeared.”


“Disappeared? That’s total bullsh-” Brad snarled, his voice drowned out suddenly as the afternoon quiet was shattered by a sudden loud bellow. Meg straightened. It was unmistakably Major. Followed by another, louder, deeper thundering bellow and the lowing and clamour of the rest of the herd.


Turning towards the sound, Brad and Meg strode to that end off barn. The hot afternoon sun streamed in, blinding them slightly as a huge hulking silhouette of a man appeared at the mouth of the barn. He clearly enjoyed Halloween, Meg thought as she squinted at the realistic curved horns fitted to his head.


“Now look here, mister-” Brad stuttered to a stop as the hulking male strode towards them.


Meg looked down, her heart seizing in her throat as she recognised the shape and backwards bend of his legs.


it was Major, or an idiot in a very good costume come to play out his Halloween demon bull cos-play fantasy 


The man had clearly been studying Major, but no, not quite Major. He was a massive guy, at least seven foot when dressed as he was as a brutish ram, caped in a large dark covering 


The silhouette man/ ram bared his teeth. They were large and -oh my heart- sharp and inhuman. 


This, it was soooo not man.

 ‘Oh god, aliens are real’ Meg thought terrified. 


Then, IT roared once, lowered its broad head. 

And charged. 

Charged into the barn, bellowing. 

It’s four fingered muscled arm pressed to the side of its head, as if in communication.


Four fingers! Meg turned, wincing at the high shriek that erupted from Brad. She gawped in shock watching as if in slow motion, Brad pushed her towards the charging beast. Meg screeched, watching as her fiancé left her and raced away. In the opposite direction. Babe or bail? Meg thought. ‘Welp I’ve got my answer….’ she thought distractedly.


The sun seemed to break through the barn roof, shining with a brightness that blinded Meg. Mid shout, she felt the air change, crackling with electricity then, there was nothing.




Navigator Senroth did a double take at the transfer beam readings, gulped in horror and slammed his clawed hand on the termination pad. 


Dead. Stone dead.

He was going to be flayed alive by Uncle Auriyen, the captain.


In the cargo hold, the sudden loss of power made the transfer beam shimmer and then suddenly wink out, unceremoniously dumping the three beings collected from the planet surface.


“Oof!” Auriyen slammed into the floor of the thankfully decontaminated cargo hold, his cape protecting his back from being shredded as he skidded along the hard floor surface. The Navigator was a dead grunt. Baa’an Clan and his Hoof-Son be damned. By the Ram’s scrotum, he was going to slap the twist out of that Baa’an horns.


The vermin had landed on top of him. Awful pestilence. He reached up to pluck them off him but was too slow.


One vermin made another of those indecipherable throat noises, leapt up and scuttled away furiously on its four uneven limbs.

Auriyen pushed at the smaller one still draped on his muscled chest, intrigued. It smelled of warm honey and the silkiest of cream. Needing to rise, he rolled it unceremoniously off his broad sinew filled barrel chest. It landed on its side, tucked its lower longer hoof less legs under and rolled to a stop.


He staggered to his feet, groaning as he shook his broad head, his curved horns whispering harshly through the thick air.


Beside him the smaller of the blue planet’s vermin still lay, clearly sentient but most likely quite backward, its small eyes tightly closed. The mass of long furs on its head had tangled in a dark tangled mess across its face and shoulders.


The taller of the two vermin was definitely awake. 

But huddled in the furthest corner jabbering and mumbling to itself.  It gasped in terror as the forcefield at the doorway split to reveal the full contingent of the ship’s security detail –   the Baa’an Baron At Arms, plus eight Rangor warriors, armed from hoof to horns with blades, brandishing the plasma implosion canon and an impressive selection of the snub nosed disruption grenades. 


Even the Baron was twitchy.  One false move and the eager pad-loving fingers that hovered over the detonate pads on the grenades would clamp down, blowing a hole in the cargo hold large enough to suck even the flight crew out of their pod on the 64th level. Through their assholes. Before casting them and the crew into space.


For a hot, vicious second Aruiyen bared his teeth, thoughts full of Senroth, his torn and muddied uniform, and the disappointing primitive nature of the now-returned alien creatures. 


With the funds for herd and flock building ringfenced instead to fulfil the pronouncement, fewer and fewer females and calves were born each century, resulting in the rutting season appearing as a fertile period only once a decade. 


These aliens had been Oxenia Prime’s last hope.


Sighing Aruiyen held up one large hand wearily, staying their eager pre-emptive strike. 


The head of a serene Shara-ein, the technics officer, poked out from behind the cluster of armoured Rangor. Its flat oval iris narrowed in its huge yellow eyes as they darted around the hold. It’s jaw dropped, mouth gaped wide in wonder, horror or astonishment -with their classic grim grey faces, you could never tell with that lot. 


Its nose quivered as it surveyed the hold, empty now of all horned and still quadrupedal blue planet residents. In their place the two vermin and a slightly bruised captain.


“Stand down, the fuckn lot of you” Aruiyen growled low. 


Straightening he moved towards the security team. 

“Watch the vermin” he muttered.

“The small one with the nest on its face is awake. Has been since we arrived but is playing dead.” The Rangor chuckled.

“The larger one appears to be in shock. Or trying to communicate with its nest mate.” 


“Take that active  one back with the Shara-ein;  see if there is any tech to help us tame it.  If not, check its core orbs, see if it is fit for food, although with the pollution reported, anything from that planet needs a wide berth…” Auriyen stamped out of the cargo hold eager for the sonic cleanser to strip the filth from the planet. 


He dragged himself through the decontamination tunnel, cleaning himself of the filth on his hooves before stomping towards the bridge.


There was no avoiding it, the campaign had been a total fuckn broken horn, his thoughts were dark. 


Oxenia Prime was facing extinction and for what? He glanced out of the carrier viewing portals as he reached the transport for the bridge. The blue and white swirled sphere seemed to gleam innocently back at him. 


Snarling once he turned his back on the sight. With a determined face he stepped off the transport onto the bridge. He was spoiling for a good fight, a chance to let off steam before the humiliating journey back to O-Prime. 


He spied his target. 

“Navigator Senroth!!” Auriyen bellowed.


This would be a good hour of sparring at least.

Rad, the Impaler. AILF1

This is sooooooo #NSFW😈😈

Inspired – intruiged more like – by images posed by @LillyGriffin in the group Romance with Aliens that look like Aliens ( (you really need to join this group if you are into seriously freaky sh1t😂) I’ve offered up this smexy little scene for your amusement… 


Oh. I’ve named him Radyytchzz, or Rad for short.  

As in Rad, the Impaler… If you’d like more, or I get another hot flash if inspiros I’ll be adding to his story on my page.


Radyytchzz glared hungrily at Persephone, his lean athletic frame humming with pent up sexual energy

“Yoooo have defied me for the last time, hoooomannnzz” he snarled. 


“The name is Seph, you big idiot!” She snapped, trying to lessen the shaky tone in her voice.  “I’m sick of being kept under armed guard, being waited on hand and foot all day in this lair. I’m off to the shops!”


Gripping her by the nape he spun her round, ignoring the poor disguise of a tray of pewter tankards and sweetmeats as it flew out of her hand. 

‘Oh, shit’ she mused worriedly  ‘I think I’ve done it this time’


“Erm, Rad? Rad, honey..”


“Do not Rad-honi me, I forbid it!” he muttered angrily, his grip tightening slightly as he steered her out of the flight atrium “Your words of subservience will not avert your punishment this time. If you are bred, you will be docile”


“Not bloody likely mate!” Seph muttered as Rad snatched the space shuttle tab from her hand and flung it at the terrified cadet. 


He slapped the tankard of frothy mead Seph had used as a bribe out of the cadet’s trembling grasp as he passed, his baleful glare at the shaking novice promising a later retribution. He frog marched her across the courtyard, into the banqueting dome and straight  to his main feasting table.


The boisterous second meal chatter and eerie seductive music died away, as his closest battalion officers and bevy of serving wenches watched him stride straight to the centre of the hall. He held Steph, his curvy and less than one month contracted Barter-Bride still, shaking her a little as she started to squirm  as he swept the feast of roast grydxch, mead and pewter dining service off the large round feasting table. 


Rad had tracked her to the shuttle bay. He knew he should administer the public belting the Empire’s rules demanded for attempted runaways. 

But he could not. 


Not when his thoughts thickened so. 


His jaw ached from how hard he tried to subdue his arousal. He ground the swollen mating pads in his throat, bringing slight relief, but causing the pre thrust dominance venom to boil up into his upper jaw and flood his small holding fangs. 


His white hot haze of anger and lust grew as he remembered not five tikks earlier entering the domed hall, sitting down to his once weekly feed when Groff, his second in command had tapped him playfully on the shoulder to rumble “A feisty Terran bride you have bartered. I envy you”.


Rad had looked around, noting his Barter-bride was not sitting on her overstuffed pillow by his leather boots. The spot he distinctly remembered placing her with stern instructions to await him whilst he returned to complete the battle strategy report to Prime V.


“Where is the female?” Rad had ground out, his throat pulsed as his dominance pads filled with mating venom. He trusted the honour of his men implicitly, even though she was a tasty morsel of woman.


Maybe she had wandered out to the adjoining night garden, The blooms of the curated alien plant species of the Nuknuk plant had a heady fragrance and fruit reminded her of a temple she called a Cho-late-faa-Tri. Whatever that was.


Groff, the burly gredfgts ass that he was, had stabbed his warrior’s tri-bladed feeding dagger into a large vat of small wriggling salted pfodeph, unhinged his jaw to hoover them into his maw and swallow them almost whole before wiping the blades on the feasting cloth draped over his thigh. His jaw gaped in a genuine grin as he replied casually. “With the shuttles.”


“Why? What is my female doing?”


“Escaping.” Groff had shrugged, then dumped a gallon of mead down his throat, swinging his lower jaw from side to side with satisfaction as the thick bubbling purple liquor burned its way down his throat into his fourth stomach chamber. 


“I figure you have got 10 tikk before she sweet-talks that fool cadet of mine into opening the flight atrium and giving her clearance and a shuttle tab.”


“Wait. What? For the sake of Fukk…!” Rad mangled the prayer his bride was particularly fond of uttering to one of the Terran deities, swung off his stool and stomped out of the feeding dome, scattering soldiers in his wake.


Now he was back. 

With Seph. A cleared level surface beneath him. And a months worth of breeding in his seeding pouch. Hot, leaden, aching for release, swelling behind his mandibles.


Groff glanced over at the pair. Grabbing a tray of salted pfodeph up off the stone floor that had somehow miraculously remained unscathed from Rad sweeping arm, he chuckled back at Seph who small eyed him, hissing “Traitor!”


“Yooo know what to expect for defiance” Rad snarled in her ear, his throbbing member snaking out unbidden from his mating gape to slide ans lick suggestively over his small Terran’s hearing appendage. It was flushed, like her heaving teats that were barely concealed under her silken barter-mate coverings. Seph shuddered, a breathy moan puffing through her strange, pouty oral opening. She smelled like the seas on his home world, salty and wild. But also like michief, promise and oh so fertile female.


Rad’s mind curdled into a haze of white lust when her eyes opened wider as she spied his snub tipped grip-spur extruding between his lower jaws as they lengthened and opened. He watched mesmerised as his silvery mating oils dripped from his jaws, falling slickly onto her throat to run like a dark promise over her skin to drip at her dusky pointed teats and silken cleavage.


Rad turned her, and in one fluid movement grappled the soft pillows from the floor, placed them on the cleared feasting table, dumped his bride on top of the cushions, grabbed her arms and tied them with his unused feasting cloth to the table struts.


“Not. One. Utterance” he leaned over her, his hot, molten sandalwood breath coasted over her neck before his arm darted forward, grabbing her throat in a gentle but dominant hold.


“Out!” He growled suddenly, glaring over his shoulder, the single word falling thick and slurred as his jaw gaped wider.


“Come on you blathering fools, you heard our leader. He has a bride to seed” Groff, his trusted second in command took one look at Rad’s glowing silver eyes, nodded sharply in understanding before turning to roughly jostle servers and battalion captains out. The heated heaving pants of Rad and his bride soon were the only sound in the large dome.


Rad turned back to his bride, slowly dropping to his knees, He released her throat to grip her thighs and slide them under his lower jaw, which lengthened to hold her in place, his large lower fangs curving along the outside of each hip, a sharp incentive to be still, not to flee, a reminder of him, the predator in control. 


His mating venom spilled freely now onto her lower torso and thighs, ramping up her libido as each drop was absorbed into her soft silken skin.  He glanced between her thighs, nostrils flaring, sucking in the moist air laden with her sweet pheromones, noting the slick crystal clear honey that now bathed her strange rosy breed-receptacle which had opened like petals, further driving him insane with lust.


He groaned with satisfaction as his grip-spur, also slick with mating venom, slid into place into her forbidden secondary vent, pushing slowly past the puckered opening to further immobilise his prey, his mate. His everything.


He dipped forward greedily in response to her moan of desire, biting down, his mating fangs slid into the upper flesh of her swollen mons to pump his dominance venom into her blood stream. He slid his jaw unhinged fully, allowing him to thrust his throbbing, swollen thickly veined mating shaft into her hot, wet vent. His grip on her thighs tightened, a growl of satisfaction rumbling through his chest as her sodden warmth gripped tight his oral shaft.  


He had bedded many females during his world conquests, given to the ruling commanders as tribute for defeats. During those ceremonial claimings his multiple mating shafts were deployed either through his inside wrist or pelvic openings. This was the first time and last he vowed, that he had truly mated a female. In the time honoured way of the Ancients. Up close. Face to vent/s. Personal. As personal as one of his kind could get.


Seph, his barter bride had wide glazed eyes, but now they were blinking slowly, her body drugged with passion. And her small, pouting oral opening had opened further, the soft pink flushed inner area causing a white hot thought to streak through his mind. ‘Another open receptacle for bed sport. But, another time’ his mind swirled with the forbidden depravity of that thought, tipping him over the edge.


HIs eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the silvery light from his internal umbra pulsing under his skin, radiating out of the twin eye orbs in time with his unhurried thrusts. 


Beams of umbra white light flared from his eye sockets, alternately roaming across the domed ceiling – ‘like 20th Century Fox search lights’ Seph thought dreamily – before switching to pulse bright then dim.  In the darkened dome Rad’s umbra light turned them into a rapid flickering display, on and off, a tableau of hulking alien commander, his mates legs spread wide, caught on each side of his shoulder saddle as he stroked in and out, filling his flushed mate with unending slick ropes of his breeding seed.


Seph moaned in an urgent pulsating release as his invasion became rougher, deeper. Ripping her hands free of the loosely tied bonds, she grabbed the tips of his sensitive bone face plate, slung to the back of his head when not in battle to denote the crown of his status. Screaming in ecstasy, her toes curled into gang signs, writhing whilst Rad became stock still, his frame hardening as if turned to stone.


The wetly obscene thrust and withdrawal of his mating shaft was the only sound joining her increasingly impassioned cries…but then, she felt them, slippery dull thuds as a jellied string of pearlised eggs forced their way up and out through the thickened head of his meaty veined ovipositor shaft that now had thrust and breached her cervix to lodge deep in her womb…


Rad the Impaler…coming soon to a FB group about Aliens. Probably never…👽😍😂⭐️💕


With thanks for inspiration (and humble apologies) to Ruby Dixon, Stephanie West , Laurann Dohner, Cynthia Sax, Tiffany Roberts, Susan Trombley Poppy Rhys and all my other favourite alien-human indie authors.

You have ruined me, ladies. Truly ruined me…😂😍

Ooooh! “StudyMe” coming soon by Logan Chance


                                      🌟🌟 COMING SOON🌟🌟


#StudyMe coming soon by Logan Chance



Work, Study, eat, and repeat. For the life of a pre-med student Marley has her work cut out for her. 

To make matters worse, her professor Houston Dale is one of the hardest teachers around. His sole purpose is to make each student suffer. 

When Marley is asked to be his assistant for the semester forbidden sparks will fly between them. 


Houston Dale hates teaching Anatomy. With a secret past he won’t let anyone get too close. 

But, when his assistant lives across an alleyway and he can see all the naughty things she does in her bedroom at night, Houston can’t contain himself. 

Forced to choose between his past and present, will Houston be able to be strong enough to withstand the temptation of his student? 

This is a forbidden Professor/Student affair. Get ready as Houston and Marley heat up the pages and your hearts.


Haven’t read Date Me yet?

#LIVE #1Click #99Cents #FreeKU

Reveal “Sold to my Father’s Friend” -Cara Chance





Sold To My Father’s Friend

By Cara Chance

Cover by: RBA Design/Letitia Hasser

Genre: New Adult

Release Date: November 2nd



Amazon Link:






Angelique’s father owes a debt. 

Jace Landon has come to collect. 


When Angelique is sold to her father’s friend, she tries anything and everything to defy her new master. 


Will she be able to resist his sexiness? Will he be able to resist temptation?


What will Angelique do if her father can’t pay off the debt? Will she work off the debt for him? And what will Jace want her to do for her freedom? 

HEA, Light BDSM elements. Bad Boy and inexperienced girl. With lust, passion, and very risqué sex scenes.





About the author:


Cara Chance loves reading sexy smut and decided to try her hand at her own stories. Always a guaranteed HEA. She loves writing the sexy taboo stories many are afraid to read in public. 

She enjoys reading, writing, and loving life. 

WARNING: Read her books in the privacy of your own home. Public reading may cause blushing, overheating, and wetness from intensely HOT sex scenes.













The Brothers Chance – “Delve”



By Jacob Chance

Release Date: October 20th

Hosted by: Chance Promotions


Genre: Erotica/Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: Jessica Hildreth














He was my brother’s best friend and seven years older than me.

He was a tatted up bad boy, indulging in one night stands like they were going out of style.

So why did I want to tear his clothes off every time we got within five feet of each other? 


She was only eighteen years old when we met for the first time.

She was a good girl who avoided guys like me, but that didn’t stop me from picturing all the things I wanted to do to her-to do with her. She was too young though, and my best friend’s baby sister. I couldn’t let things go where I wanted. I couldn’t touch her-couldn’t taint her with my darkness. I knew it could never happen. It would never happen…

but it did.



      He’s Lucifer in the flesh with those deep brown eyes and dark-as-sin hair. My eyes move down, taking in the close-shaved beard hiding the contours of his chiseled jawline, before continuing on to his full lips. I carefully study their masculine shape. I can still remember what those lips felt like on mine; even though I’ve done everything I can to forget. I wish I could erase the memory of how he gripped the back of my hair tight in his fist and tugged me forward until our lips were just a whisper of a breath apart.

          “Is this what you want?” he’d asked. I could feel his warm breath on my mouth before he’d softly brushed his lips against mine. “Do you want to see how close to the fire you can be without getting burned, little girl?”

          I tried to pull away, incensed at being called little girl. I wasn’t a girl. I was a twenty-one- year-old woman; perfectly capable of knowing what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I knew which heading kissing him fell under – insanity.

He was my brother’s best friend.

He was seven years older than me.

He was a pig when it came to casual sex; indulging in one-night stands like they were going out of style.

           That alone should have been enough to repulse me, but for some odd reason, it didn’t. It only made me wonder what kind of things he would do to me. I was smart enough to recognize that those three things combined were a recipe for disaster. The wreckage left over would be the pieces of my heart, and I couldn’t put myself out there for him on the off chance that he wouldn’t break me. My heart was damaged enough already.

          He’d held my head in place as he’d swooped in, taking my lips in a kiss so hot I felt like I was going to burn up in flames. His tongue had plundered my mouth, punishing me for pulling away, for trying to resist him. He showed me who was in control with that kiss. He showed me I wouldn’t ever truly get away from him, and I hated him for that. I hated him for ruining other guys for me; but most of all I hated him for what he’d said when he pulled away from me.

          “Stick to kissing those boys at school. Men want a woman in their arms, not a little girl.” He looked at me with such disdain, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear, go someplace where his painful words couldn’t hurt me anymore. Where my memory could be wiped clean of Derek Santiago and his handsome face.

          That kiss is still the hottest one I’ve ever had to this day, but I still despise him for the cruel words he callously threw at me. Those words tore me apart and made me second guess myself. It took me a long time to realize what he said wasn’t motivated by me at all. It was the result of him despising himself.


DELVE on Goodreads



About the author:


Jacob Chance grew up in New England and still lives there today. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.

A writer of erotic romance, DELVE is his third release and is the follow up to QUAKE and QUIVER (Book 2 in the QUAKE Duet.)

Jacob plans on writing many more sexy, suspenseful stories and to branch out to other genres.




Other books by the author: