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by Marly Mathews
Description: Born with the magical soul of a Crimson Phoenix, Garrett Firestorm is a beacon of light in a dark universe. As an Immortal from the Hidden Realms of Magic, he and his starship fleet of freedom fighters roam the known galaxies fighting evil. When he finds Alora Bishop in shackles and destined for the intergalactic slave trade market, he rescues her and brings her into his confidence, knowing that an unbreakable bond--a psychic chain for his kind, has been forged between the two of them, he sets out to win her heart. But Alora is a woman with a mysterious past, and the secrets hidden just might be their saving grace--or their total destruction. Rating: spicy/carnal/erotic--adult language and situations.
eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: June 2009
39 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [391 KB]
Reading time: 242-339 min.
Planet of Delania
She couldn't, and she wouldn't let them mind rape her. Alora Bishop fought back the desperate tears she felt prickling behind her eyes. Her situation was grim indeed. Every day, the mind wraiths surrounding her attempted to fully infiltrate her mind, and every day, she fought them off. If she failed in her struggle against the mind wraiths, they would take full control of her mind, making her live out her worst fears and then, they would force her to live out her death in her mind before killing her for real. The illusions they made her see in their attempt to totally infiltrate her mind was nearly driving her mad. She still clung to her last semblance of sanity, despite the odds, she would not break.
Her hands were shackled, as were her legs. Her friends were already dead. Crammed beside her in the wagon laid her comrades--their hearts had failed them during the journey through the hot and terrifying desert. She had spent most of the day hitched to the back of the caravan, forced to walk fast enough to keep up with the tamed Manton Beasts that pulled the wagon.
Now, she sat in a living hell, with what was left of her friends.
The mind wraiths inhabiting the wasteland had fed off their psychic energy until they could no longer survive. They had drained every last drop of their life force, leaving an empty shell behind. Those shells were turning rancid under the burning desert heat. No matter what she'd endured she was still around.
Hellish though her conditions now seemed--she was half starved, her clothes were a filthy tattered mess, and yet life still flowed within her.
It was a miracle--or a curse.
Her mouth was dry--parched beyond belief. Still, she waited, hoping for a rescue that seemed elusive.
Her people--her tribe revered her as their leader, and yet, she could not feel their pursuit. Where were they in her darkest hours? She kept hoping for a rescue that hadn't come, and in the pit of her stomach, she suspected it would never arrive.
Her psychic powers were strained and nearly drained. Even in her full strength, she had not possessed seer-like abilities. Instead, she was endowed with the even more coveted power among her tribe. She could move objects with her mind, and when at her full strength, she could actually project psychokinetic blasts from her hands.
All of that power failed her five weeks ago.
Their enemy long thought defeated had returned to their lands, thirsting for blood. Her people had been no match for the barbarians--for the barbarians could nullify their powers with but a single projected thought.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
She looked around her, grimacing at the single action. Now, she would be sold into slavery--her future was uncertain at best.
How many nights had she survived through a harsh beating? How many times had one of her jailers been pulled away, just before he could rape her?
She didn't know why the one barbarian would not allow the other to take her against her will--she only thanked the Gods for bestowing such a simple act of grace on her.
Her luck would soon run out. Soon, she would be sold into slavery--it remained to be seen if she would be sold as a sex slave, or as a laborer. Either way, her entire life as she knew it was over.
"We're here. We should get out and get the dead ones deposed of. I can smell them all the way up here, it's beyond rank."
A decent burial was not to be had for her fallen friends. A thick knot continued to form in her throat. What she would do for a glass of water.
The sounds of a busy marketplace reached her ears. Delania was a small planet. It had one sun and three moons. Her people had settled here long ago, believing the three moons to be a sign from the divine. Now, after seeing so much bloodshed, she wasn't so certain that this planet was their promised land. Perhaps, her people should have remained on Earth--from the rumors that traveled to her from the various star travelers, Earth was a far more idyllic planet then Delania.
"Well, the prissy bitch still clings to life. You should give in and die, you stupid cunt. I don't even know why I didn't dump you out in the desert."
The one jailer that always seemed to want to take not only her mind but also her body eyed her with disgust. "You reek. You smell worse than swine. You smell like you've rolled in your own shit." He laughed cruelly. "But then, we can expect nothing less from an inferior piece of fungus like you."