Monday, July 05, 2010

Black Planet: Little Dragon Collection by Belinda McBride

Black Planet: Little Dragon (Collection) by 
Belinda  McBride

Read an excerpt

Black Planet: Little Dragon (Collection)

by Belinda McBride
cover art by Zuri
ISBN: 978-1-60521-442-9
Genre(s): Futuristic, Sci-Fi, Collections
Theme(s): Interracial, Shunga
Series: Black Planet
Length: Collection

Little Dragon: Following a devastating injury, Detective Rose "Little Dragon" Lee takes a courier job to make payments on her ship. The job is supposed to be easy... safe... until her ship is captured by Nephris Commander Arad Soheil. Rose means more to Arad than a warm body in his bed -- she holds the key to his freedom and his sanity, to his very life.
Dragon's Blood: San Francisco hasn't been the same since the Great Shake of '08. On the ruins of Fisherman's Wharf, a monster prowls the corridors and alleys, seeking the nanite-enhanced flesh and blood of underground cage fighters. Detective Annie Tanaka once survived an encounter with the monster. The attack left her clinging to life and riddled with fear. Now the monster has returned, and he's hunting in her territory.
Tiger Eyes: Sometimes, when you reach the end of the road, you find a twist you didn't expect. Lieutenant Milo Greene has lost everyone he ever loved, and now, only the job holds him together. Darah Lash is the most powerful Thalian present on Earth. Yet, to his people, he is a second-class citizen. He came to Earth with the desperate hope that he would find a mate. What he doesn't expect to find is love. Once admired and feared, Grace Chen is now on the brink of death, waiting for the miracle.
Three paths end, one road begins. Destination: Black Planet.
This collection contains the previously released novellas Little Dragon, Dragon's Blood, and Tiger Eyes. 
Black Planet: Little Dragon
Belinda McBride
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Belinda McBride

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When her entire arm went dead, Rose Lee knew she was in trouble. Big trouble. The pain suddenly faded, leaving numbness and nausea in its wake, and she knew it was time to end this fight. She slid boneless to the floor, keeping a wary eye on Daryl Nutlisch as he guffawed, preparing to finish the tiny woman he'd just thrown into the steel wall. She caught herself going down, braced her knees, and called on some unknown reserve of strength.
The idiot was too confident, certain that Rose was down for the count. Blood streaked her face and her left arm hung uselessly at her side. Her pistol had skittered under a rusty Dumpster, and no way in hell did an unarmed woman have the strength to take down a man that was easily twice her size.
Overconfident, Daryl glanced away. He missed her crouch, her sleek launch from the wall, slamming a well-placed kick to his kidney.
As she rode the big man to the filthy floor, Rose's sharp teeth tore at the bracelet on her right wrist, exposing a tiny, wicked needle that fairly dripped with a double dose of Clonk. She called it 'Clonk' because of the sound the suspect made as he hit the floor. This needle was perfectly placed, right on that bare skin between neck and shoulder.
Her kick took him to the ground before the drug took effect, giving Rose the pleasure of hearing his meaty face hit the steel floor as two hundred and fifty pounds of pure mean male hit the ground. So she couldn't use weapons... she'd use what she could. After all, it was a matter of professional pride.
And her paycheck. This month's payment on the ship would go to the doctor, so she'd be damned if "Little Dragon" Lee was letting this big boy slip between her fingers! She'd need the hazard pay that came with taking down Daryl "the Nutcase" Nutlisch.
Gritting her teeth against the searing pain in her arm, Rose released the microfiber netting from her utility belt, draping it over his body. Grunting, she rolled him onto his back, fumbling to secure the flimsy fabric. She desperately needed to immobilize this man before the drug wore off.
She twisted the safety clips and activated the netting, and then slapped him with her tag, a subcutaneous marker with the official charges and her badge ID. She didn't need some asshole freelancer coming in to hijack her takedown.
Surveying the growing crowd with cynical displeasure, Rose propped herself against the bloody station wall, warily watching her captive. She frowned. The communicator on her left wrist hung uselessly on a dead arm. She braced against the wall and used her blood-slick right hand to work the tiny radio loose. "Station Dispatch, this is Detective Rose Lee, badge number 110249, calling in a request for transport."
She waited numbly for the call to route to the appropriate authority.
"Hey, Little Dragon, this is Police Dispatch Matthews. You have a prisoner for transport?"
"Bagged and tagged, Matthews. Warrant J-201, suspicion of...” she coughed and spit, uncomfortably aware of blood pooling in her mouth, "...suspicion of aggravated rape and sodomy, murder, and attempted murder... torture..."
"Damnation, Rose! You got the Nutcase there?"
She winced at his breach of protocol, glancing at the growing crowd. The press was undoubtedly monitoring her transmission. "Damn it, Matthews!"
"Sorry, Detective." He sounded embarrassed.
"I'd also like to request Medi-vac. I need help."
Silence greeted her request. She waited as the dispatcher relayed her message.
"Detective Lee? Lee?"
She blinked, slowly becoming aware that the dispatcher had been calling her name repeatedly. Shock. She watched in abstraction as Nutlisch began to struggle against the impregnable silk netting that held him nearly immobile. The crowd that had closed in on him reared back in an exaggerated wave. They'd scattered during the fight, but she had no doubt the battle had been recorded by some enterprising civilian.
It'd hit the news links within hours.
"Detective Lee?"
"Suspect has regained consciousness." Her voice sounded distant, and to her surprise, Rose had slid to her haunches on the hard floor. It reminded her of how her grandpa squatted when he smoked. Her numb hand brushed a rusty metal grating. Her khakis were torn, black military boots were bloody and scuffed. He'd torn the knit tank right off her body, baring her breasts. Her head rolled to the side, cheek resting on the cool metal plating of the wall. She smelled tobacco. Grandpa.
"Transport will arrive momentarily, Detective. You just keep talking to me... Medi-vac's on its way."
"Detective Lee... come on, Rose, keep talking to me, Rose? Come on, Rosie.... Rose?"

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