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«By: Lindsay Blanc Table of Contents Kahara Lords Collection Taken by the Alien Lord Wanted by the Alien Lord Saved by the Alien Lord Desired by the ...»

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Kahara Lords Collection

Box set Books 1 to 10 By: Lindsay Blanc Table of Contents Kahara Lords Collection Taken by the Alien Lord Wanted by the Alien Lord Saved by the Alien Lord Desired by the Alien Lord Chosen by the Alien Lord Hunted by the Alien Lord Captivated by the Alien Lord Enslaved by the Alien Lord Freed by the Alien Lord Bred by the Alien Lord Taken by the Alien Lord Kahara Lords Book 1 (Can be read as a standalone book) By: Lindsay Blanc Taken by the Alien Lord Preface.

I know a lot about life. No, I am not 47 years old with thinning hair and an estranged daughter. No, I do not have a degree in Philosophy and Psychology. I’m a 28-year-old woman with little to no marketable experience and a café on Venice Beach I inherited from my mother.

But I know a lot about life.

I’ve spent years on the outside looking in. I have felt alone in my experiences, but always aware of that presence, that thing bigger than me.

I was the rebel child with no direction and no plan, the girl who never knew how to say, “I love you.” Probably because she had never really felt the sentiment. I can’t really blame my barely functioning hippie mother or my emotionally stunted military father. I can’t blame my lavender eyes or strangely tanned skin. I can’t blame my peers for wondering what I am because I don’t fit their Eurocentric standards… or their ethnic ones.

I can only blame myself.

I know a lot about life.

I feel a presence beyond earth.

I can only blame myself.

Chapter One Xerxes emerged into vision, its boiling atmosphere rocking the spaceship as it eased its way closer and closer. Pilot clutch the joystick with his right hand and the wheel with his left.

A ship of this size, built in this moon, could have easily flown itself, but he liked to take control. He liked the feel of it all: the resistance coming from Xerxes, its fiery gases battering the ship. He liked the way his ship fought against her, thrusting through the thick ring. It was much easier now.

Impact had damaged her protective layer such that it could be safely penetrated by no more than an inexperienced pilot. Then, there was the point of acceptance. Pilot knew that if he fought hard enough, Xerxes would give in and then she would pull. The ship would plummet towards her surface and Pilot would have to fight her gravitational pull and somehow, manage to land the space craft in a specific location without damaging it.

The whole process took less than ninety seconds.

Daed, one of the only cities on Xerxes’ surface still standing, had been converted to a port after Impact. The place, which once was a bustling epicenter for culture and commerce, was no more than a rest stop for stragglers looking to found a new village and a refuge for those who had lost their families.

As Pilot powered the entire ship down and stepped away from the control panel, people had already begun to flood the ship. Their excited voices bounced off the walls as they helped his crew unload the supplies they had stolen off of earth’s surface in the four years he had been stationed there. He had managed to gather enough to last the survivors through another two years… at best.

Pilot’s lips folded into a tight smile as he made his way into Centre, heading right for Darys. However, by the time he reached the leader’s chambers, he wasn’t there. Pilot glanced around his neat office for a second or two before he realized when Darys was. He groaned, then turned and left the emperor’s office.

Darys stood in front of the crater that marked Ground Zero. From his place on its edge, he could hardly see to the other side of it. The scientists had murmured things about radiation and poisoning, but Darys never listened. He liked getting that close to it, looking the killer right in its devastating face.

“Darys.” He turned to find Pilot jogging towards him, his protective boots kicking up the dried, reddening sand.

“You have returned,” He said, taking note of Pilot’s plump skin. “You must have enjoyed your trip.” Pilot nodded. He glanced at the crater and the meteor that sat in it. How could he not? “It was lucrative.” “You collected what I asked?” Pilot lowered his gaze. “Enough for two years.” Darys’s heart skipped a beat. A flash of anger crossed his heart, but he struggled to contain it. “That isn’t enough.” “It will never be enough.” Darys flexed his jaw. “I know what you will say,” He said, gazing back at the meteor.

It had begun to decay in the years since Impact. Gusts of wind stripped layers of packed debris off of its surface, carrying it away. “But I cannot indulge your advice. My people have struggled long enough. I cannot invade another planet. They would wither at the strain.” “You should have more faith in your kind.” Pilot said, taking a step towards him in his confidence.

Darys clenched his hands into fists. He didn’t like being told what to do by one who could hardly understand. “This is not about faith. I have a duty to protect my people.” “Then ask yourself. What other choice do you have?” After Darys sent Pilot off on some miniscule task, he continued to ponder. Enough food for two years? Then what? Another voyage to earth. What coward was he, that he would suck the blood of a weaker race in secret? How could he inspire pride in a people he couldn’t hope to sustain?

Pilot was right. There were no other choices.

Darys reached out to the meteor. Touching it was strongly advised against by the one surviving doctor…and the three scientists he still had at his disposal. But then again, so was breathing.

He pressed his gloved hand against the hard rock, wincing at the puff of sandy matter that flew away. Then he stepped back, allowing the cloud to swirl around him. As the dust cleared, he stared at Impact for the last time.

Seven months later. Darys sat in the makeshift office his assistant had arranged for him in the space ship. What was left of his nation, a population of three thousand male Xeis, had been packed into the ship. When he had been summoned to the control room, he had to fight his way through this perpetual throng of males.

“My Lord.” Pilot stood when he entered and nodded.

Darys nodded back but then his eyes looked past him, widening at the sight. He had heard tales of the planet, had seen pictures taken by his exploration team, but they couldn’t have prepared him for this. Darys, in his attempt to keep his composure, said nothing. He tread the floor of the control room until his hands were wrapped around the rail in front of the viewing glass.

“This is Earth,” Pilot said, a trace of bravado in his voice.

Darys lifted his chin, his chest rising as he took in a breath. For the first time since Impact, he knew he had chosen correctly.

Chapter Two Numbers soared through Jenna’s head as she bent over her desk and scanned the books. She could hear heavy chatter, three espresso machines running and orders being yelled out to the masses. It was right in the middle of rush hour at her little Café on Venice, but she knew Marge had it under control.

She glanced up from her large binder for the first time in almost thirty minutes to peer through the window on her door. The line was so long, it extended out of her front door. Every seat was occupied and some of the younger, stoner types even took to sitting on the tables. Jenna didn’t mind. Her café had always been “that kind of place.” She pressed the volume button on the side of the small flat screen she had placed right next to her laptop on her desk.

Alex Trevek’s voice of Jeopardy cut through the dense air in her office.

$4, 097… $845….

$38, 905….

“Who is David Beckham,” She muttered. She couldn’t recall hearing the question.

The answer had just occurred to her, seemingly of its own accorded. Nevertheless, she knew it was the right one.

“Who is David Beckham?” A nervous contestant uttered.

–  –  –

Jenna smiled. “Am I good? Or am I good?” she said, just as Marge knocked hastily on her door.

“Yo. We need help.” She said, panting.

Jenna raised an eyebrow and peered around Marge’s thin body to the crowded shop behind her. She dropped her pen, slipped on her apron and pulled her long, platinum blond hair up into a messy bun. “I’m there.” She said as she shut the office door behind her.

Once in the main part of the café, the sounds overwhelmed Jenna. She blinked twice, then hopped right behind the counter.

“Double shot of espresso, please?” “Uh… Cappuccino…?” “You grab orders. I’ll make drinks.” Jenna ordered.

Marge stepped behind the register while Jenna worked with Lex, a sixteen year old she had just hired to make the drinks.

“Americano… But not too hot!” With deft fingers, Jenna worked the espresso and cappuccino machines, doing her best to catch every order before Marge had a chance to yell it out to her. She grabbed everything from the frown on Americano’s face, to the excited chatter between Frappuccino and Chai Tea Latte about what bars they would pencil in to their bar hopping schedule.

–  –  –

Jenna glanced up to find Lex gazing at her with glazed eyes and a film of sweat covering her face. “I really have to pee.” Jenna blinked at this mild annoyance, but nodded towards the bathrooms anyway.

“Go. But be quick.” As Lex scurried away, Jenna turned her attention to Marge. “Hey, grab this machine with me. I’ll take the orders.” Jenna stepped behind the register, grabbing order after order as well as helping Marge craft the drinks. Somewhere in all of the madness, in the strong scent of coffee, in the caramel syrup, in the steam and the heat, she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

She glanced up to get a better look.

A man had just walked into the shop. The door shut behind him, a bell dinging with the movement. He was tall, taller than any human Jenna had ever seen. His high cheekbones, heavy set eyes, bushy eyes brows and nearly glistening, brown skin made him look like he had just stepped off of a runway.

Jenna could hardly help herself. She stared at him, her hands frozen on the computer screen, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “Uhm,” She said.

He stared down at her, his eyes a darker version of hers, the violet irises boring a hole in her face.

–  –  –

He extended his hand out in front of him, glancing at the strange, minimalist silver watch on his wrist. With a sigh, he said, “I’ll settle for kale and grapefruit juice.” Jenna’s eyes went wide.

“Jen!” Marge snapped.

Jenna looked to find a large population of cups waiting to be filled with drinks.

“Grab the other espresso machine.” Marge said.

“We don’t have any kale,” She said as she unhooked one of the spoons from its lash.

A flash of annoyance shot across his perfect face. “What do you mean? This is a café.

Is it not?” Jenna pressed the spoon back into its latch, filled with espresso. “We have a menu with all of our items written on it.” She gestured at the chalk board behind her.

He glanced up at the list of coffee drinks and pastries. “Just give me a slice of bread, no cheese, and black coffee, then.” Jenna nodded, but she found it difficult to look away from him. The scent of boiling water filled her nose. She looked back at the machine to find that water poured out of its spout. “Jesus fucking Christ!” she bounced away from the register.

“It’s broken!” Marge snatched a rag off of the back counter to wipe up the mess.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jenna replied as she lifted the hood off of it. Luckily for the both of them, the rush was beginning to die down and the line hadn’t grown at all since Jenna had gotten sidetracked by the strange man and his ever stranger order. “Okay, give me $3.49 and step over to that bar over there.” Jenna couldn’t help but notice the fact that the man had not taken his eyes off of her as he dropped the allotted amount of cash on the table and stepped to the side.

She continued to stare at him through her peripheral vision, even as she tried to fix the machine. She sighed at the pool of water that had built up around the cogs. Without thinking anything of it, she stuck her hand into the machine. A sharp pang shot up from her hand through her arm.

“Ah!” She screeched as she ripped her hand out of it. A hot, thick stream of blood flowed from a cut on the side of her palm. “You have got to be kidding,” She said as she stepped away from it and grabbed the first towel she could get her hands on.

“Could you grab that first aid kit on the wall?” She asked her alluring patron.

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing her from head to toe before turning around and doing as she asked.

Jenna unlatched the small pack and pulled the gauze out but it was nearly impossible to wrap her hand on her own.

“Would you like assistance?” Jenna froze. The last thing she wanted was to be the damsel in distress in front of her new instant crush, but she could hardly refuse him and then continue to struggle right in front of his face. “Uh yeah,” She said, scurrying to her office.

He followed her, shutting the door behind him.

It suddenly felt extremely stuffy in her spacious office. “Thank you for this. I’m Jenna, by the way,” She said as he went to work, gauzing her hand.

He pursed his lips in concentration but refrained from offering his own name. “I couldn’t have just let you struggle.” Jenna found it difficult to sort the jumbled mess of thoughts in her head into something that could even vaguely resemble a complete sentence. “A lot of people would have.” He dropped a cool cotton ball soaked in alcohol on her hand.

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