Authors: Sheryl Nantus
In the Black
In the Black
By Sheryl
Nantus
Book one of Tales from the
Edge
When Sam Keller left the military, she ran to the far end of
the galaxy. Now she captains the
Bonnie Belle
, a
spaceship full of courtesans who bring a little pleasure to hard-up men on
mining colonies. When one of her girls turns up dead, it’s Sam’s job to find out
who killed her, fast.
Marshal Daniel LeClair is as tough as steel and quick on the
draw. But when his vacation gets replaced by an assignment to help find the
killer, he can’t help angling for a little action with the saucy, hard-charging
Sam. She’s got brains, attitude and a body he wouldn’t mind investigating.
Sam, six months lonely, might just indulge him. But the Guild
that owns the
Belle
wants the case closed yesterday.
With pressure coming from all quadrants, Sam and her marshal clash over false
leads and who’s on top. But when the killer threatens the
Belle
again, romance will have to wait. It’s a captain’s job to save
her crew, no matter the cost.
91,000 words
Dear Reader,
If there’s one thing that’s sure to tickle me every time, it’s when I ask for book recommendations via social media, and readers come back to recommend books I’ve edited or published. Most recently, readers have given me recommendations for
Saved by the Bride
by Fiona Lowe,
Wild Ones
by Kristine Wyllys and
Goddess with a Blade
by Lauren Dane. I’m always pleased when this happens and I think our batch of May books will be next on readers’ recommendation lists!
We’re thrilled to welcome fan favorite Josh Lanyon back to Carina Press with
Stranger on the Shore
. Journalist Griffin Hadley shrugs off lawyer Pierce Mather’s objections to his investigation of a decades-old kidnapping, but it might not be so easy to shrug off the objections of someone willing to do anything to keep the past buried.
Bestselling author Stephanie Tyler returns with another sexy, unique story set not too far into our possible post-apocalyptic future. In
Salvation
, when Luna leaves Defiance to rescue Bish from a rival gang, she doesn’t realize she’s the one who will end up needing saving—both from the gang and from Bish, the man who can’t wait any longer to claim her and make her his. Though this book can be read as a standalone, be sure to check out both
Defiance
and
Redemption
as well!
There’s
No Accounting for Cowboys
in Leah Braemel’s sexy contemporary cowboy romance. Jake Grady relies on family accountant Paige Reynolds to bring order to his life, when family secrets throw it into chaos. Check out our new reduced-price bundle of Leah’s erotic romance duology,
Texas Tangle
and
Tangled Past
, available now.
And speaking of sexy contemporary romance, the only woman Grand Duke Armand ever desired is her, but not every girl dreams of marrying a prince. Anna doesn’t want prince charming, she loved the man behind the crown. Can they overcome their mistakes and reclaim a love neither forgot? Don’t miss this Going Royal book by Heather Long,
Some Like It Scandalous
.
Tamara Morgan joins us with the start to a new contemporary romance series in
If I Stay
. In this kickoff to a modern-day
Downton Abbey
series, the nanny to a rich hotelier family must choose between the hard-edged chauffeur who gets her pulse racing and the profligate playboy she’s loved her whole life.
Another author kicking off a new series is Sheryl Nantus. If you’ve been looking for a unique futuristic romance series to enjoy,
In the Black
is being described as
Firefly
meets
Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
. What’s more unique than a heroine who’s captain of a bordello spaceship?
Male/male author KC Burn also offers up a futuristic romance this month. Falling in love with an alien exotic dancer forces a prejudiced fleet captain to reevaluate who he is and what he believes in
Voodoo ’n’ Vice
.
May is a month packed full of science fiction, fantasy and futuristic books. Cindy Spencer Pape is back with a new book in her Gaslight Chronicles,
Dragons
&
Dirigibles
(I love this title!). Airship engineer Melody MacKay is exactly the kind of emancipated woman Victor Arrington wants to keep away from his impressionable niece—that is, until smugglers start trying to kill the girl. Then Victor turns to Melody for help. If you’re new to the Gaslight Chronicles, you can start the series now with a new, reduced-price bundle of the first three books in the series. Available wherever ebooks are sold.
Author T.D. Wilson returns to Carina Press with book two in his space opera series. In
The Epherium Chronicles:
Crucible
, only one more jump to the new colony in the Cygni star system, but what will Captain James Hood find when he arrives—a thriving colony, dangerous enemies, or will it be in ruins?
We’re pleased to welcome four authors to Carina Press this month. Debut author April Taylor brings us a tale of fantasy and alternate history. In
Court of Conspiracy
, book one of The Tudor Enigma, ordered by Anne Boleyn to protect her son, can apothecary and elemancer Luke Ballard overcome the evil sunderer who seeks to kill Henry IX at Hampton Court Palace?
Also with a debut novel this month is historical paranormal romance author Kari Edgren. Selah Kilbrid would sacrifice everything for her birthright, except the one kiss that could destroy her in
Goddess Born
.
For our mystery offering this month, debut author Rosie Claverton brings together an agoraphobic hacker and a streetwise ex-con to hunt down a serial killer in Cardiff. Don’t miss
Binary Witness
, the first in a new mystery series.
Last, we’re thrilled to have author Vanessa North join us with her new male/male romance
High and Tight
. Deeply closeted Navy pilot Adam returns home, planning to convince his longtime lover he’s ready to commit at last, only to find Harris has moved on without him.
Coming in June: novels from Lynda Aicher, Ava March, Christi Barth, Dana Marie Bell and more, along with a fabulous male/male contemporary romance anthology from three talented authors.
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
To my husband, Martin, who gives good science advice. Among other things.
Acknowledgments
My thanks to Alissa Davis, my editor, who knows how to deal with crazed authors; the wonderful people at Carina Press, who know how to work with insane writers; and all the hopeful romantics out there. We will survive.
Chapter One
This was the worst part of the job, the toughest thing for any captain who ran a Mercy Ship. When she’d taken over the
Bonnie Belle
six months ago, it’d seemed amusing—starting off the landfall with a bang, as it were. Then back to signing off on maintenance reports and reading mystery novels until the
Belle
was ready to head out for the next stop on their cycle.
Now this ceremony was like a hangnail catching on anything and everything without relief in sight.
Performed once a month.
For another four and a half years.
Samantha Keller stood in front of the double doors, waiting for her cue. A low beep in her ear from the transmitter signaled her to proceed. She pasted a huge smile on her face and pushed her way through the swinging double doors, making a note to swing her hips and slow the hell down.
She couldn’t run down the aisle, no matter how much she wanted to get this over with.
The black leather straps cut into the back of her heels as she strode down the center aisle. She made a mental note to toss the shoes into the garbage bin as soon as she got back to the
Belle
.
She’d have worn her old jump boots but Jenny insisted on her buying the stilettos on their first stop at Land’s End base, saying they matched the brand-new leather jumpsuit and that it’d be unseemly for her to make the announcements in “ragged, old, stinky” military boots.
Sam had lived and almost died in those boots and if they were good enough for that, they’d be good enough for this. The words had been on her tongue when she’d spotted the eagerness in the mechanic’s eyes.
In the end she’d bought the bloody shoes, the ones now gouging raw spots on her heels. Six months and they were nowhere near broken in.
Mind you, she only wore them for a few minutes once a month. Maybe she should have Jenny stomp around and soften them up.
The damned jumpsuit still rode up, tempting her to make some very unladylike gestures.
Sam missed her old soft, olive drab uniform.
Along with the weapons that went with it.
There was something about having a pistol at her side that made certain situations more bearable.
Like this one.
She spotted Huckness, the security chief, standing off to one side with two of his men, his attention not on her but on the two hundred miners spread out in front of them in the main meeting hall. He was looking for signs of trouble.
She was about to deliver it.
The second step was her undoing. Her damned shoe missed the metal strip, landing on bare wood. Her left ankle twisted outward, almost sending her crashing down the steps. Her right hand shot out and grabbed the podium’s faux wood edge.
As far as she was concerned this near-fall added one more point toward tossing the damned shoes into the incinerator as soon as she got off this stage.
A curse dangled on her lips before being pulled back and twisted into a grin, primarily because of the live mike only inches from her face.
With this crowd, it’d probably be considered foreplay.
Wolf whistles followed her every move. Two hundred hungry men waiting for her. Wanting her to deliver the goods they’d been promised.
Another dozen or so women were watching from an office somewhere. The women assigned to Brandon Prime worked the administrative positions, keeping the ink flowing to keep the base alive. Only a smattering but they were potential customers and the Guild prepared for every eventuality.
They were already segregated from the men in the work areas and it continued for this presentation, allowing them to watch the show without commentary from the male staff. It wasn’t just out of politeness—it was good business. Let them see the wares without judging or being judged by their male associates.
Another day, another show.
Andrew Trainer, the foreman, stepped away from the podium. A minute later and he was in the front row of eager spectators, dressed in the same drab grey clothing as the rest of the miners. The only thing showing his rank was a black stripe on one sleeve. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve even though the room was cool, the air-conditioning roaring over the crowd.
Sam gave him a wink, causing the dark-haired man to rock back and forth on the metal bench.
Inside she laughed. If she could get a rise out of the old guard with nothing more than a wink, she might have a damned riot on her hands by the end of the presentation.
Her lips twitched once, and then curved into a smile. She’d enjoy a riot. It’d been a long time since she got in a good old-fashioned brawl, two landfalls ago when some idiot thought he’d jump the line when she was walking through the landing bay on the way to trade some books with the base library. If she hadn’t gotten to him first he might have not survived the rough justice being handed out by his fellow miners.
It’d been a pleasure to kick his ass. Almost as good as sex.
Speaking of—
“Hello, Branson Prime,” she purred into the microphone, grimacing as her vocal cords protested at going so low and slow. It was a necessary evil; her command voice wasn’t going to work here.
The resounding cheer was deafening. She withdrew a small data chip from her pocket and inserted it into the waiting slot on the console. The yelling subsided when she waved them down, but a low murmur continued to run through the crowd, a delicious anticipation of what was to come.
“I’m Sam Keller, Captain of the
Bonnie Belle
—that sweet little Mercy ship that docked with your fine manufacturing facility an hour ago. And I’m here to declare that we are—” she paused for three heartbeats, seeing the hungry eyes, “—open for business!”
The two hundred-plus miners jumped to their feet as one, stomping their booted feet in a deafening chorus. Given the sparse decorations they looked more like prisoners than potential customers. But they were buyers and she was here to sell a product.
She pointed at the large screens set around the mess hall as they flashed to life, the bright pictures drawing yells from the workers. Usually they displayed boring litanies of production quotas and the occasional sports competition piped in from the inner planets. Now they rotated through the images of the six courtesans, expertly posed and photographed to provide the most titillation for the money. No outright nudity, just a flash of skin here and a wink there. More than enough material to fuel a man’s or woman’s fantasies for those long, dark, lonely nights out here on the edge of colonized space.
“Two hundred credits an hour and you can do anything you want.” She leaned over the podium and pressed her lips to the microphone, letting the zipper on the jumpsuit “accidentally” slide down just enough to exaggerate her cleavage.
It’d taken Jenny a week of oil and sweat to loosen the zipper enough to get it to come down on cue. But it was well worth it, every time.
“Anything.” She exhaled over the black nub, drawing the word out as long as she could.
The roar of the crowd continued until she raised her hands again. It was time to get down to the nuts and bolts of the business, seal the deal and start filling the Guild’s pockets.
Sam cleared her throat. Now that the seduction was over, time for the paperwork. “Reservations are available starting right now for the next two weeks, one hour appointments only. Return visits welcome but be considerate of your fellow workers. Please read the contract and understand all the clauses before you sign. We’re not into giving refunds and the fees are non-negotiable. Tips are encouraged and appreciated by the courtesan of your choice—if you liked what you got, show it with a few extra creds.” She nodded to Trainer. “And, of course, clear it with your shift supervisor to make sure you’re not bringing the rest of your team down while you wait for your turn to come up.” She dragged out the last two words, as Jenny had suggested in their preshow rehearsals.
Sam shot a sly wink at a youngster in the front row. Probably his first trip off world. He hadn’t seen a Mercy ship yet, judging by the way his mouth hung open. She might have been the first female non-employee the kid had seen in months.
Time to prime the pump.
She leaned in again, locking eyes with the fresh meat. “’Cause it’s all about giving you men what you want and what you need. And we are here to make your dreams come true.” Sam threw her arms up at the last word as the screens erupted in fireworks, the explosions bursting out from behind the courtesans’ images.
A few men jumped onto the benches, whooping loudly. It was what she’d expect from this boil on the butt of the mining universe, a small base hardly large enough to warrant a Mercy ship visit.
But they paid. And if they paid, the ships continued to come.
Sam held back a giggle at her own joke. She gave a short bow and stepped away from the podium with a wave to the foreman. Her job was done.
Now all she needed to do was not die of boredom for the next two weeks.
Trainer glanced up at the flashing images as they cycled through again, a broad grin on his face. He walked back up on the platform and waited for the roaring to subside before waving the men back to their seats. While the middle-aged senior foreman went through a list of announcements, nothing of which had to do with the
Bonnie Belle
, Sam stood to one side and listened to her comlink.
“Bianca’s pissed,” Jenny whispered into her ear. “She’s saying that’s not the portfolio she approved.”
“Tell her to fuck off,” Sam growled through her teeth, still smiling. “Go file an official complaint and I’ll deal with it later. She approved ’em and I’ve got the signed papers to prove it.”
“Roger that.” Jenny chuckled. “I’ll get your slippers ready. Meet you at the hatch.” The link went dead.
Sam’s focus returned to the crowd in front of her. Most of the men were busy pointing at the images, the bawdy comments rolling through the crowd in a heated wave of lust.
The images on the screen morphed into the short movies now, carefully manipulated to increase the demand for the courtesans’ services.
Kendra strutting her stuff in an evening gown, her dark skin an enchanting contrast to the cream-colored dress. Bianca shuffling forward a few steps before bowing, wearing a white kimono dotted with pink petals. April executing a flawless kata wearing her gi, black belt prominently displayed. Halley wearing a teeny tiny bikini with a false beach setting behind her while she frolicked with an inflated beach ball decorated with a large green money symbol.
Dane, the young, blond boxer, putting his hands up in a fighting pose and grinning as he urged both sexes to consider his talents. Last but by no means least—Sean, the medic and the old man of the crew at forty years old, giving a flirty wink as he peered out from the screen with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, offering a more relaxed visit for the handful of women on duty.
Never let it be said the Guild didn’t try to satisfy everyone.
The miners gazed at them like starving men crawling up to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Except for the kid, who couldn’t take his eyes off her. She felt a smile coming on, an honest-to-goodness grin, something she hadn’t had a reason to do for days, maybe weeks.
He was fresh off the boat and had no idea what he was doing.
This was going to be—interesting.
The pup cleared his throat.
“How come you’re not up there? Don’t you got a spot?” The shrill voice rose over the whispers, moans and groans of the crowd. The youngster had a voice and wasn’t afraid to use it. Sam smiled as she sashayed down the steps and walked over, ignoring the pain in her feet and enjoying the reaction from his teammates. Half of them edged away from the kid while the remainder moved in, curious as to what she was going to do.
The first rule of Mercy ships was that you never propositioned the captain. Never. She wasn’t one of the girls, wasn’t for sale. Ever.
Or, in coarser words—don’t fuck with the captain.
The kid let his breath out in a gasp as she approached, his eyes frozen like a deer in a car’s headlights. His tongue flicked out over dry lips.
Sam stopped in front of him. It’d been a long time since she’d been asked out, even as roughly as this puppy had. She wasn’t going to take him up on the offer but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun with the youngster.
He didn’t flinch as she leaned in, his attention squarely on the zipper dangling dangerously close to his mouth.
“Sweetie.” She rubbed her hands over the short blond fuzz covering his head. “You’re going to have to grow some more to satisfy me.” Sam leaned down and put a loud, raunchy kiss on the pate, leaving a very neon red imprint. Along the way she pulled his face down into her bosom, letting him inhale a brief whiff of perfume she’d dabbed on her skin before leaving the ship.
Always be prepared, her mother had said.
She was pretty sure her mother hadn’t been referring to a bunch of horny miners stuck out in the middle of nowhere.
The kid went scarlet from the tips of his ears down into his dirt-stained shirt. His mouth hung open, and a sound between a whimper and a sigh escaped. Sam winked to his buddies before she spun on one spiked heel and walked away. A roar went up from the crowd as a swarm of supporters descended on the young man, slapping him on the shoulder and shaking his hand.
Sam chuckled to herself, heading up the center aisle toward the back of the room and, thankfully, escape. There was always one smart ass at every stop, some jerk who figured the rules didn’t apply to him. At least this pup was cute. She’d shot his reputation into orbit with that little stunt.
It could have gone worse.
“Whore!” The room went silent at the single shouted word. Sam stopped, then turned around.
Spoken too soon. There was always one, one employee who thought himself morally superior to his buddies.
The middle-aged man wagged a finger at her. “Whore!” he repeated, spittle staining his chin. He got to his feet and shuffled past his shocked comrades into the middle of the aisle. His shirt was threadbare, patches outnumbering the original material. A thick, jagged scar ran across his right ear, almost slicing it in two before disappearing under short, raggedy grey hair. His wide eyes locked on Sam with the intensity of one of the large mining lasers set up miles underneath them.