|Spaceport Vol. 1|
Adana. A rundown spaceport edge of nowhere. Last port of call for those who move in the shadows…
Security by Shelby Morgen: Commander Kala Decoltéir always gets her man, and she wants the space pirate they call Dancer -- no matter who -- or what -- he is. This time, Dancer has no escape.
Trash & Treasure by Mikala Ash: Award-winning reporter for the Adana Observer Holly Barberossa finds herself once again in her natural environment, hot water.
Bite by Marteeka Karland: The last thing Dryson expects when he takes his latest shipment of smuggled goods to Spaceport Adana is to end up with a Rajian sex slave, Sasha. Sasha is a force to be reckoned with, and her bite is definitely worse than her bark.
Scavenger by B.J. McCall: Scavenging space junk isn't glamorous or lucrative, but finding a disabled Allied Planets Security drone is an unexpected treasure Captain Anexa Loy can't pass up.
Publishers Note: The stories in this anthology have been previously released as single titles.
Buy it today ~ Read an excerpt from Scavenger
Excerpt for Scavenger
Lieutenant Davis Darkano raced after the freighter. “Base, this is Patrol eight- four-one. In pursuit of a Raven class freighter in restricted sector thirty-two. Negative Ident transmission. Negative response to Ident request.”
Davis bore down on the freighter. His Patrol group had been running search patterns for days. Their orders were to locate a missing Patrol drone and remain in position until the drone was picked up, but chasing a smuggler beat hunting for a dead drone.
Despite the Raven’s radical maneuvers, Davis matched it turn for turn. Nothing like a hot pursuit to get his blood running high. Davis’s admiration for the pilot’s skills rose along with his determination to run the nose of his fighter right up the Raven’s ass.
He punched his thrusters, but the Raven beat him to the free zone. Running side- by-side with the freighter, he activated his scanners and swept the Raven’s hull. Secured inside the blast-proof cockpit, Davis was completely dependent upon his instruments and view screens. The image of faded Guild markings on the Raven’s hull flashed on his screen. Scavenger.
He matched pace with the Raven, giving the fighter’s scanners time to confirm the ship was a scavenger and not an armed smuggler masquerading as a junk collector. The scanners revealed no weapons. Davis shook his head. What possessed an extraordinary pilot to make a living collecting and selling space junk?
“Eight-four-one, this is Base. Position and status.”
Although he couldn’t legally stop the vessel in the free zone and fining errant scavengers was a low priority even when a drone wasn’t missing, Davis would remember this encounter. “The Raven’s a scavenger. Returning to search pattern.”
As Davis turned away from the Raven, he saluted the unseen pilot and vowed, “One day, scavenger, your ass will be mine.”