Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Collection: Bonds of Justice by Elayne S Venton



Bonds of Justice (Collection)
by Elayne S. Venton
Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-127-5
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi, BDSM, Collections
Theme(s): Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Bonds of Justice
Length: Collection



Blurb:


Planetary intrigue. Sizzling sex. Survival.

Even though Magistrate Blade Kevlar and the men he enlists to help find his missing sister have no time for stubborn, independent females, the strong women who cross their stellar paths whet their appetites like none before or after. However, the women harbor vengeful agendas of their own and resent male interference, even if they mean well. Head to head, resistance melts in the heat of passion. Confronted by sinister forces, alliances are forged in more ways than one.


Excerpt:


This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


Thea Stone leaned over the bar table and stifled a groan when the buckles spanning the front of her not-quite-closed bustier jabbed her tender skin. The wicked appeal of flaunting her body in the tight, sexy outfit had worn off four hours ago.Her drink customer winked and stuffed a tightly folded twenty-dollar bill into Thea’s bountiful cleavage. “Because you look so hot in black leather and I can brag about it in the locker room.”“Shut up, Greg.” Thea plunked down a tonic water for the vice detective working the strip club with her. Smoothing down the hem of her mini-skirt, which persistently rolled up her thighs, she spoke a decibel over the blaring music. “I see our mark showed up again tonight.”“Yeah.” The detective shifted on his seat, angling for a better view of the dark hallway. “Every guy in the place is visiting the head while Fowler bangs the hooker. Even in this dive, it takes balls to bend a woman over a chair outside the men’s room, toss up her skirt, and plow into her. Shit, look at those jiggling tits. I’m tempted to pay for a go at her.”Thea gave him an admonishing glare, having no qualms about turning him over to Internal Affairs if she caught him on the wrong side of the badge. “Take it home to the wife.”The detective grinned.Damn it! Greg was jerking her chain again, a favorite pastime of her fellow officers. Thea sneered at him good-naturedly. She knew the guys called her “Stone Cold” behind her back and she didn’t care. Her righteous fa├žade held them at arm’s length, keeping her personal life out of the locker room. If anyone at the precinct knew about her stash of erotic books and toys, they’d keel over in shock.Tapping the empty drink tray against her thigh, Thea swung the conversation back on track. “The prostitute is Fowler’s regular. I’m interviewing her as soon as she’s done embarrassing herself.” Leaning low, Thea spoke through her teeth. “That sonofabitch killed my mother. I’m gonna nail him if it’s the last thing I do.”“Whoa.” The detective grabbed her wrist before she walked away. “I thought your mother OD’d on prescription meds?”“Where do you think she got them?” Thea jerked her arm free and tiptoed back to the bar on calf-knotting stilettos. From the corner of her eye, she caught Joe Fowler zipping up his pants and the prostitute heading out the back door. Tossing the tray on the bar, Thea called “break” to the bartender, snatching an open pack of cigarettes on her way out.Luck was on her side. The prostitute loitered by the back wall sipping from a silver flask. Thea shook out a smoke and rolled it between her fingers. She’d quit smoking years ago, but she’d take a drag if needed.“Ah, shit,” she declared, patting down her skimpy outfit. She slid a glance over the prostitute. “You wouldn’t have a light, would you?” Thea held up the unlit cigarette.Before the woman could answer, a luminescent liquid splashed across her fishnet blouse and she collapsed against the wall. Thea stepped in the woman’s direction, spotted a man’s shadow looming in the darkness pointing what looked like a Super Soaker at her. What the hell was in that thing? She dropped to the asphalt and rolled behind the stinking dumpster, wishing she had her 9 mm. As soon as she peeked around the metal bin, a warm spray stung her face, blinding her.The parking lot tilted, wavered out of focus, and Thea blacked out.
* * *Ten moon cycles transporting doomed prostitutes from Earth to Callisto, and sampling the goods had never crossed Magistrate Blade Kevlar’s mind.Even if he had the right, he hadn’t… Until now.Blade admired the rise and fall of the prostitute’s luscious breasts, the cautious wonder on her angelic face, and the flow of her feminine curves emphasized by the tight leather outfit. She had the longest damn legs he’d ever seen on a woman. Most appealing of all, she didn’t give him a “thirty guinos a blowjob” expression when he looked her over.Uninterested in his appraisal, her gaze shifted around the stark room processing every inch of its surroundings. Not much to take in, other than his judge’s bench and the view into space. Still, the others hadn’t given a damn where they were.“State your name.”The woman looked him over with wary green eyes and pursed lips, her gaze lingering on the black bands around his forearms decorated with the insignia of magistrate. His deputy, Atlas, nudged the detainee.“Uh, Thea Stone. Where am I?”“You’re on the transport shuttle Decree.”“What?” Her gaze slid to the oblong window port where stars, planets, and asteroids streaked past at light speed. The lovely felon quirked a brow. “I’ve been abducted by an alien?” She almost smiled.“I’m as human as you are, and you’ve been apprehended, not abducted. I don’t usually time travel --”“Time travel. This gets better and better.”“-- but since I followed my errant sister into your century, I put my time there to good use.” Blade repeated his verdict by rote. “As Magistrate of Colonization, I’ve appropriated you for deportation to the Jupiter moon, Callisto.”Stone’s eyes grew wide and she cast a sidelong look of incredulity at Atlas. Without a doubt, she thought he was delusional. With a slight shake of her head, she looked back at him, her expression carefully blank. “No magistrate I’ve met presides over a courtroom without a shirt. And last I heard mankind has only visited one moon -- Earth’s.”“Times have changed.” Blade glanced down at the summary displayed on the inlaid bench monitor. “Your arrest record indicates you’ve been charged with drug possession and prostitution. Those are sufficient grounds for your presence here.” No need mentioning he’d pulled her away from death’s door and saved her pretty ass for a better life. In her present she would have died tonight.An arched brow inched high. “Those charges were dropped, Magistrate. I’m not a prostitute, I’m a… ah… waitress.”Blade looked over at Atlas who shook his head. “The historical archives indicated she’s been everything from a street hooker to a high class call girl,” his deputy reported. “Sixteen arrests for solicitation, five charges of drug possession in four years.”A rock dropped into Blade’s gut. For once, he wished a detainee were not as she appeared. “Does she need to be processed through the detox unit?”Atlas shook his bald head. “Although it’s documented she associates with drug addicts, she’s surprisingly clean. Her med scan registers ‘Uncontaminated’ across all zones.”Stone glowered at him. “What kind of kangaroo court is this? You have no proof of a crime. No one read me my Miranda rights. I was assaulted, drugged, and kidnapped. I have no legal representation. And I’ve been convicted without a hearing.” She jabbed a finger in Blade’s direction. “You’re not a magistrate. You’ve kidnapped me because I stepped on your cartel’s toes. You’re a hit man. A…”“No. I am not.” Blade admired the defiance in this woman, missing from the impassive prostitutes he usually transported. If he was going to break his rule against screwing his payload, Thea Stone was the woman Blade wanted. He’d been so wrapped up in his job and his sister’s disappearance he hadn’t fucked a woman in forever. Time to correct that oversight.Blade sat forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “Once, I might’ve been considered a mercenary.” He let that sink in for a moment, but she simply crossed her arms over her chest, expressing no surprise. “It’s in my blood. I come from a long line of Scottish outlaws.” Blade didn’t know why he felt compelled to explain himself to her. Must have been because Stone reacted differently. And he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. “Then I saved a councilman’s daughter and you could say the councilman saved me. Now I’m going to redeem you.”“I don’t need redeeming, thank you.”Blade raised a brow. If he’d left Thea Stone to her own devices, she’d be dead by now, along with the other thirty-some women he’d picked up. But he wouldn’t share the gruesome details of her death with her. “On Callisto, you have the choice to continue your trade for a period of one year or bond with a mate. If you choose to work, at the end of your sentence you can bond with a mate, establish a mercantile business, or relocate to another new settlement.”Atlas shoved a screen modulator into her hand and Blade explained it. “Press the sim button to see the men interested in a life mate.”After a long look at his serious expression, she glanced down at the screen mod. “Sim button?” Stone began pressing them all. She gasped and looked up at the realistic hologram of Mate #1 as he introduced himself.The man leaned against a customized transporter. “My name’s Clave. I work at Drill Site 459XP. When I’m not there, I build transporters that’ll make you scream, baby. If you like tinkering with big toys” -- he winked -- “pick me.” Clave faded away and a Vaperian welder replaced him.The detainee stared in opened-mouthed shock. “It’s a 3-D movie…” Blade stifled a chuckle when she stalked to the image and poked him in the back.Her hand met with his flesh. “Oops. Sorry.” The welder finished his spiel and faded. Stone’s winged brows fluttered in confusion. Another man replaced the welder. She jabbed the man and stepped back, her brows drawing into a deep frown. “How are you doing that?”“Styson imaging.”“What?”“It’s the recording, storage, and transmission of molecules through sound waves, invented by Stanley Styson in 2206.”Stone muttered, “This is not real.” She lifted her chin. Scowling at him, she pressed her fingers against her temple. “You’ve drugged me.”“Only with a dose of docile spray, and based on your responses, it’s worn off. Besides, it does not give you hallucinations. This is real, Stone. Welcome to 2347.”



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