Sci-Fi Romance, Multicultural & Interracial
Date Published: January 24, 2025
2147: Pollution has poisoned the earth, the seas and the air. Fresh, clean
water is as precious as gold.
Rauni’s Mistress (Rain Catcher 1)
In the squalid red light district of Hobart Town, Roxy Talia earns her
living as a porn star to make ends meet. Tobin Kane follows the monsoon
rains across the ocean, collecting precious fresh water before it falls into
the polluted seas. He and his crew have been blackballed within the
industry. Tobin is determined to find a way to keep his beloved ship, the
Rauni. That involves Roxy, the sexy vixen who holds the key to saving his
future and has been the star of his lusty fantasies for years. Tobin will do
whatever it takes to keep his ship -- even if he has to kidnap Roxy to do
it…
Aqua Vitae (Rain Catcher 2)
When Audrey Purcell’s lover Kirk disappears in the aftermath of a
bomb blast, the bittersweet experience transforms the shy, bookish girl into
a brazen and reckless risk taker. Each shore leave sees her swimming in
alcohol and rejoicing in one-night stands -- her latest fling being Joachim
Muller, a navy commander with a body to die for. Her career takes a great
leap forward when she’s given command of a derelict rain catcher, the
Aqua Vitae -- but her success comes with a price. The echoes of her painful
past clash with the promise of the future, threaten her lifelong dream with
destruction.
EXCERPT
Excerpt from Rauni's Mistress
With wide eyes and a madly beating heart, Roxy Talia watched the tall,
good- looking stranger enter the crowded hotel bar.
He was absolutely perfect.
His crisp uniform proclaimed him to be an officer, non-military, a merchant
mariner of some sort. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the
street lights, he presented an imposing figure, broad shoulders, trim waist,
nicely shaped legs. Once he'd removed his face mask, he'd scanned the dimly
lit bar room with barely disguised distaste. His chiseled features wore a
sad, resigned expression.
When his dark, intense eyes settled on her where she sat at the bar and the
spare stool beside her, Roxy's heart fluttered. Her nipples had hardened the
instant his eyes met hers. That warm feeling in her belly she'd thought
she'd never feel again washed through her like a spring tide.
He fit her needs exactly, but what was it about him? Her response was as
bewildering as it was desired. She'd often thought these last few years that
she'd become anesthetized to good-looking men. After all, she had her pick
yet here he was, the man she had assumed didn't exist, shattering her jaded
expectations.
He strode toward Roxy, fixing her with an unwavering gaze.
Roxy gasped, and her sudden intake of breath surprised her. She was
actually nervous at the approach of this man. She took a deep breath to calm
herself and tamped down the fear that her disguise was not good
enough.
That afternoon, Roxy had taken considerable steps to prepare her deception.
She'd dressed in a conservative business suit with a white blouse and
knee-length gray skirt. She'd chosen platform stilettos to give her height,
a tight bandeau to minimize her bust and a platinum wig to disguise her
natural jet hair. For her face, she'd applied ivory foundation and powder to
hide her golden skin, blue lipstick to alter the line of her lips and a fake
mole on her right cheek. To hide her trademark green eyes, she'd inserted
blue contacts and added azure eyeliner and turquoise shadow to alter their
shape.
The hodgepodge of styles, business and tart, created a jarring amalgam of
looks that would confuse any observer. At least that was what she'd
intended. She believed herself to be unrecognizable and the three drunks who
had tried to pick her up so far tonight hadn't seen her for who she truly
was.
This man, however, was sober. It would be the test of her preparation and
acting skills to fool him. He towered above her, his face impassive, his
attitude commanding. "This seat taken?"
His voice was like honey. It flowed into her ear like sweet syrup, warming
her all the way down to her fluttering belly.
"No," she said. The voice she'd decided on was deeper than her
own, husky with a faint European accent to hide the Australasian nasal
twang. She'd been practicing all afternoon, intending it to lead any
listener to think she was just another environmental refugee trying to fit
into Hobart Town and not quite succeeding.
The officer sat down. There hadn't been even a flicker of recognition. If
anything, he displayed total indifference.
Roxy relaxed. Surreptitiously she gazed at the stranger in the bar's
mirror. In between the bottles of imported and domestic Aqua and Hydra water
and the ubiquitous range of Gills Beer, she considered his heavily defined
features, trying to get a handle on his personality, as if facial lines told
you anything about the inner workings of the mind.
His ebony skin, wearing the sheen of perspiration which was unavoidable in
Hobart Town's enervating humidity, glowed in the bar's dim lighting. His
short, black hair was closely cropped, exposing a nicely shaped skull. His
face was heavily textured and seemed to attract the shadows.
"I'm Tobin," he said and she jumped in surprise.
He was staring back at her reflection. "I'm Su Sha Xie," she
said, quickly adopting the name of her worst enemy in kindergarten, a
petulant little girl who once had stolen her crayons.
His dark eyes narrowed. "Funny, you don't look Chinese."
"It's a long story."
Tobin signaled to the barman. "I'm not into long stories today. Want
another?"
"Why not?"
He fished out his card, scowled and flicked it to the barman. "Wanna
sit?"
She followed his gaze to a newly vacated table in the corner. "I
thought we were."
"Something more comfortable."
"I'm not a hooker," she said.
"I didn't think you were." He stood up and waited, looking down
at her. "Coming?"
Tobin's self-confidence was staggering. Then she figured out what it really
was. He didn't care if she came with him or not. She was just a woman to
him, one of thousands out on this hot Hobart night. Roxy quelled her
momentary annoyance by reminding herself that this was exactly why she was
here in disguise. She wanted, for once, to be just an ordinary woman.
"Sure."
The barman returned with two beers. Tobin took his card, picked up the
bottles and, weaving through a group of drunken marines, strode over to the
table.
Roxy followed. The view of his physique from behind was as impressive as
from the front. His broad shoulders gave way to bulging biceps which were
barely contained by the short sleeves of his shirt. He sported a trim waist,
slim hips and oh so tight buns atop sturdy but shapely legs. The musculature
of which screamed both stamina and strength.
Roxy approved. Unlike the men she knew, Tobin's body lacked the artificial
contours gained in the gym. He was used to real work, and hard work at
that.
Tobin sat down without waiting for her. "I meant it. I'm not a
hooker."
"I believe you." He took a swig of his beer, his eyes fixed on
hers. "I'm not looking for a hooker."
"What are you looking for?"
He took a swig of beer and motioned to the chair.
She sat.
"So, keeping it short, what's your story?" she asked finally,
putting an amused tone in her voice.
He looked into his beer. "No potted histories, please. Let me tell you
who you are and then I'll tell you who I am."
Her heart stopped. Damn it, he'd recognized her after all. She'd hoped she
could have at least one encounter with someone who didn't know who she was.
Her anticipation of the night she'd planned collapsed and the despair in the
bottom of her chest stirred.
"We are two of a kind," he said slowly. "You tell me you're
not a hooker, I say I believe you. Then you tell me again to make sure. You
are balancing on stiletto heels to make you appear taller than you really
are. You are wearing an appalling wig and, geeze, to apply all that makeup
you must have used a bricklayer's trowel. So, I'm assuming you don't want to
be recognized."
His eyes trapped her in an inescapable gaze and she felt like she was
falling into their dark depths. Within her chest her heart thudded like a
prisoner beating against prison bars and in her ears, her blood roared. She
could barely breathe waiting for him to say her name and shatter her desire.
She so much wanted this stranger not to recognize her.
"You don't want to be recognized," he repeated. "Well,
that's fine by me. I don't want to know who you really are, and I'll believe
whatever you tell me."
Confusion roiled inside her mind. What game was he playing? Did he
recognize her or not?
Roxy cleared her throat. "You said we are two of a kind."
"Well, you see, Su, I don't want to be me tonight either. So the
reason I'm here, in this bar in this dodgy hotel in this stinking rotten
town, is to be anyone but me, okay? Like you, I want to be someone else, if
just for the night."
About the Author
Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development
consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by
night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is
concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags
of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.
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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
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