Title: Trapped
Author: Alison Aimes
Genre: Sci-Fi Romance
Release Date: March 3rd 2016
Publisher: Indie Published
Print Length: 239 pages
Format: Paperback and Digital
Print ISBN: 978-0-996-4683-1-2
Digital ISBN: 978-0-9964683-0-5
HIS PLANET. HIS RULES… Trapped by Alison Aimes is an action-packed, sexy sci-fi that takes you to the brink of oblivion on a planet where only the strong survive. When Bella West crash lands on penal planet Dragath25, the only thing standing between her and a mass of brutal criminals is one of their own, a ruthless loner known only as 673. But what starts out as a desperate trade based on protection and raw lust soon blossoms into a scorching need that will push them both to the edge. A tale of unbridled desire, stunning sacrifice, and unwavering love, Trapped is the first book in The Condemned Series.
Cadet Bella West has one simple objective when she joins the scientific mission to Dragath25, the notorious penal planet housing Earth’s condemned. Earn the credits necessary to save her family from starvation. But when her shuttle crashes and the majority of her crew perish, her simple mission becomes complicated fast. Now, to stay alive she’ll have to depend on one of Dragath’s own. But such protection doesn’t come free.
Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, 673 has become more beast than man after eight grueling years on an unforgiving, hazardous planet of dirt and rock—and even more treacherous inhabitants. He doesn’t look out for anyone but himself and he certainly never grows attached. So when the bold female offers him pleasure in return for protection, he takes the deal without hesitation. He never expects how her touch will alter him. Or the growing realization that saving her may be the key to his own salvation.
But as dangers mount and their 'simple' deal unravels will he prove to be her surprise savior or her ultimate downfall? Because caring for someone on Dragath25 may prove the greatest hazard of all.
Author: Alison Aimes
Genre: Sci-Fi Romance
Release Date: March 3rd 2016
Publisher: Indie Published
Print Length: 239 pages
Format: Paperback and Digital
Print ISBN: 978-0-996-4683-1-2
Digital ISBN: 978-0-9964683-0-5
HIS PLANET. HIS RULES… Trapped by Alison Aimes is an action-packed, sexy sci-fi that takes you to the brink of oblivion on a planet where only the strong survive. When Bella West crash lands on penal planet Dragath25, the only thing standing between her and a mass of brutal criminals is one of their own, a ruthless loner known only as 673. But what starts out as a desperate trade based on protection and raw lust soon blossoms into a scorching need that will push them both to the edge. A tale of unbridled desire, stunning sacrifice, and unwavering love, Trapped is the first book in The Condemned Series.
Cadet Bella West has one simple objective when she joins the scientific mission to Dragath25, the notorious penal planet housing Earth’s condemned. Earn the credits necessary to save her family from starvation. But when her shuttle crashes and the majority of her crew perish, her simple mission becomes complicated fast. Now, to stay alive she’ll have to depend on one of Dragath’s own. But such protection doesn’t come free.
Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, 673 has become more beast than man after eight grueling years on an unforgiving, hazardous planet of dirt and rock—and even more treacherous inhabitants. He doesn’t look out for anyone but himself and he certainly never grows attached. So when the bold female offers him pleasure in return for protection, he takes the deal without hesitation. He never expects how her touch will alter him. Or the growing realization that saving her may be the key to his own salvation.
But as dangers mount and their 'simple' deal unravels will he prove to be her surprise savior or her ultimate downfall? Because caring for someone on Dragath25 may prove the greatest hazard of all.
Alison Aimes is the award-winning author of the sexy sci fi romance series the Condemned as well as the sizzling contemporary romance Billionaires’ Revenge series. A sci fi fanatic with a PhD in Modern History, she’s an all over the map kind of woman whose always had a love for dramatic stories and great books, no matter the era. Now, she’s creating her own stories full of intrigue and passion, but always with a happy-ever-after ending. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two kids, and her dog. When not in front of the computer, she can be found hanging with family and friends, hiking, trying to turn herself into a pretzel through yoga, listening to a fabulous TED talk, or, last but not least, sitting on the couch imagining her characters’ next great adventures.
Alison can be found on line at www.alisonaimes.com
Links
Facebook: https://www.facebook/alisonaimes
Twitter: https://twitter.com/alisonaimes
Pre-order on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Qex8hU
Alison can be found on line at www.alisonaimes.com
Links
Facebook: https://www.facebook/alisonaimes
Twitter: https://twitter.com/alisonaimes
Pre-order on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Qex8hU
Excerpt:
A splash sounded. Powerful ripples washed against her back like a surging tide. He was coming for her.
She whirled and discovered small bubbles on the surface of the water. An inky cloud of red and brown streamed in all directions followed by foamy white. Then a dark head broke the surface and he was standing before her, waist high in the water, a mud man no more.
Her mouth opened on a tiny o.
Without the dirt, dark, thick hair, shorn close to his scalp, was now visible. Along with olive skin, a wide forehead, low brows, firm lips, and a square jaw. Tiny droplets left his long lashes spikey while rivulets of water tracked over chiseled cheekbones down his sculpted chest and abdomen to a small trail of dark hair that snaked from his belly button to disappear into the water. Scars of various length and width tracked across miles of pure, hard muscle.
My God, mud man was a flesh and blood man—an incredibly masculine one. If she’d met him at the Academy or the barracks on Earth, she would have been unable to stop staring. He was that beautiful.
Then his hand shot out and her daze shattered.
With a hiss, she stumbled back.
One dark eyebrow rose. “Here.”
She looked down to see a small white bar in his hand.
“It’s soap.” His tone was brusque. “The drones dump trash from Earth. Use it.”
“Thank you.” It took all her courage to reach out and take the bar from his hand. “I—I’ve never used it before. The Academy only allows lasers for cleaning. The use of water was banned a long time ago.” She stopped short.
Of course, he knew that. He wasn’t from some distant galaxy. He was from Earth. He just wasn’t welcome there anymore.
His lips flat lined. “I’ve been here a while, but not as long as that.”
Was that a joke? His expression offered no clue.
“Of course.” Hands shaking, she took the soap and rubbed it against her arm. The blood stayed put. She rubbed harder.
She hadn’t expected this…this talking. Or the kindness of a bath—with soap. It was confusing.
“You need the water to make it work.” Rough hands reached out and took the soap, dunking it under the water, making that same foamy circle she’d seen before.
“Turn around.” His voice had gone husky again.
That overworked heart of hers started up double time once again. Her feet remained planted where they were.
He waited for longer than she would have expected before he spoke again, his jaw locked tight. “Anything?” It was a reminder. A reproach. A challenge.
And her last chance to change her mind.
Her eyes sunk shut. I can do this. I need to do this.
She whirled around, bracing for a grab. A strike. But the deliberate slow glide of a calloused fingertip down the bumps of her spine slammed through her with more force than any blow.
She whirled and discovered small bubbles on the surface of the water. An inky cloud of red and brown streamed in all directions followed by foamy white. Then a dark head broke the surface and he was standing before her, waist high in the water, a mud man no more.
Her mouth opened on a tiny o.
Without the dirt, dark, thick hair, shorn close to his scalp, was now visible. Along with olive skin, a wide forehead, low brows, firm lips, and a square jaw. Tiny droplets left his long lashes spikey while rivulets of water tracked over chiseled cheekbones down his sculpted chest and abdomen to a small trail of dark hair that snaked from his belly button to disappear into the water. Scars of various length and width tracked across miles of pure, hard muscle.
My God, mud man was a flesh and blood man—an incredibly masculine one. If she’d met him at the Academy or the barracks on Earth, she would have been unable to stop staring. He was that beautiful.
Then his hand shot out and her daze shattered.
With a hiss, she stumbled back.
One dark eyebrow rose. “Here.”
She looked down to see a small white bar in his hand.
“It’s soap.” His tone was brusque. “The drones dump trash from Earth. Use it.”
“Thank you.” It took all her courage to reach out and take the bar from his hand. “I—I’ve never used it before. The Academy only allows lasers for cleaning. The use of water was banned a long time ago.” She stopped short.
Of course, he knew that. He wasn’t from some distant galaxy. He was from Earth. He just wasn’t welcome there anymore.
His lips flat lined. “I’ve been here a while, but not as long as that.”
Was that a joke? His expression offered no clue.
“Of course.” Hands shaking, she took the soap and rubbed it against her arm. The blood stayed put. She rubbed harder.
She hadn’t expected this…this talking. Or the kindness of a bath—with soap. It was confusing.
“You need the water to make it work.” Rough hands reached out and took the soap, dunking it under the water, making that same foamy circle she’d seen before.
“Turn around.” His voice had gone husky again.
That overworked heart of hers started up double time once again. Her feet remained planted where they were.
He waited for longer than she would have expected before he spoke again, his jaw locked tight. “Anything?” It was a reminder. A reproach. A challenge.
And her last chance to change her mind.
Her eyes sunk shut. I can do this. I need to do this.
She whirled around, bracing for a grab. A strike. But the deliberate slow glide of a calloused fingertip down the bumps of her spine slammed through her with more force than any blow.