Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Oh—the one with the big ass?” Dickie, her brother-in-law-to-be asked. “He’s going to marry her—really? I thought she was the cook or the maid or something.”
“Well, you’re not far off,” the bitchy sister-in-law-to-be said snidely. “She was his decorator—can you believe it? Of course Mummy insisted they sign a Prenup.”
Madre de Dios! That little puta!
Celia clenched her jaw as she grabbed for a paper towel to wrap around her bleeding finger. She was a Latina, but she was not Mexican. Her parents had come from Cuba—which her future in-laws would know if any of them had bothered to try to get to know her!
As for their remarks about her being “chubby” and having a “big ass,” not to mention the way they were disparaging what she did for a living…well, it almost seemed like her brother and sister-in-law were having a contest to see how many hurtful and insensitive things they could fit into one conversation!
“Don’t insult Celia!” the second deep voice said, sounding angry.
“And she’s not fucking marrying anyone—not if we have anything to say about it,” the deeper voice growled. “Now where is she? If you don’t bring her out, we’ll come in and get her!”
“Dickie, who are these men?” It was Mother Frances’ voice this time. “And why haven’t you sent them away?”
“Don’t know who they are—they’re insisting on talking to the Mexican girl in the kitchen.” Clearly her brother-in-law-to-be still couldn’t remember her name, Celia thought with irritation as she finished wrapping her finger.
“Oh, you mean Celia? They must be here about her little design business,” Mother Frances said. “Celia, my dear?” she called, raising her voice. “Do come out here for a moment, won’t you? You’re wanted.”
Celia marched out of the vast kitchen, giving her brother-in-law and sister-in-law-to-be both a cold look as she went. She’d had just about enough of them and their rudeness. They—
But the thought died before she could finish it as she saw who was standing in the doorway.
Two huge Kindred warriors—they had to be Kindred, since they were both seven feet tall and extremely muscular—were staring at her.
One of them was a bit taller with black hair and dark eyes. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache and his thick hair was pulled back at the top showing a high forehead. His nose looked like it had been broken at least once and his eyes were wary, which gave him a foreboding look.
The other warrior was maybe an inch shorter with silvery gray hair—not salt and pepper like aging people get though—he looked to be only a few years older than Celia herself. It was more like his hair was a variation of blond that leaned towards silver instead of gold. His eyes were a warm hazel-green and his hair was worn loose and shaggy around his handsome face. He had no beard but there was stubble on his face, as though he might have forgotten to shave.
Both warriors were dressed in the standard Kindred uniform—tight black trousers, tall black boots, and long-sleeved, button-down uniform shirts. The buttons were gold and the thick, satiny fabric of the shirts was emerald green that somehow complimented both their eyes.
The two of them looked related, she thought—it was something about the way their eyes had such long lashes and tilted down, giving them a sensuous, bedroom look, or maybe the way their mouths were shaped. Were they brothers? Cousins? What?
Celia stared at them both, her heart pounding like crazy in her chest. She had never seen either of them in her life…and yet, she knew them. Somehow she recognized them—but how?
“Hello, Celia,” the one with silver hair said, smiling at her. “We’ve come to take you home.”
“Take me home?” Celia stared up at the huge Kindred warriors uncertainly. Where had she seen them before? Why were they so familiar? “Dios—what are you talking about?”
“Back to the Mother Ship,” the dark warrior growled.
“Your name finally came up in the Bride Draft,” the lighter one explained. “It’s time for our Claiming Period.”
Celia felt all the breath leave her lungs at once. She’d been called in the Bride Draft? But that was impossible—wasn’t it?
Almost fifteen years earlier, the Earth had been under siege by a malicious group of aliens called The Scourge. They had threatened to overrun the planet and take all the humans as slaves…that was until the Kindred showed up.
The huge, seven-foot-tall warriors fought and defeated the Scourge and they continued to protect the Earth now. They had only asked for one form of payment—brides. Because their race was 95% male, the Kindred were always looking for new compatible species to mate with. And it turned out that humans were very compatible. So a Bride Draft had been created, which every woman was required to join when she turned eighteen.
Celia’s name had gone into the Draft like everyone else’s, but she’d never thought anything of it. That was because you had about the same chance of being called as a Kindred bride as you had of winning the lottery. It was like voting—a civic duty you didn’t think twice about.