Four best-selling MMF science fiction romance novels by popular author A.C. Katt now available in one box set! Contains the stories:
The Sarran Plague: The Sarran Warriors came home from victory to genocide. The enemy had unleashed a virus fatal to all fertile fems on the Home Planet. The Sarrans mated in Triad; without fems, civilization ended. For two cycles they searched the Galaxy for a genetically compatible vessel. They found Earth.
Living with Syn: Syn Sinclair is one of the women taken from Earth to Sarran to replenish the fem population. As soon as her WarriorPair bring her to their home, she works to gain their respect. Her insights as a psychologist combined with her new Psy powers might help her Warriors find out who the traitors are in the Sarran government and devise a plan to capture them.
The Sarrans Return: The Sarrans return for cats, coffee, chocolate, and fems. Mark and Juraens have another mission: to rescue abused women. One of them turns out to be their own fem, Sara.
The Sarrans Senator: When Senator Samuel Johnson comes to Sarran, he’s surprised to bond with Tarin, one of Sarran's top engineers. Sam's love gives him a new lease on life. Together they bond with Meg, a talented woman who fled to Sarran like so many Earth women looking for a new life. Things are settling down between Sarran and Earth, but when the Zyptz attack both planets, their mutual dependence becomes evident.
EXCERPT FROM "The Sarran Plague"
“Thirsty,” she whispered. Then a strong, gentle hand lifted Anya’s head. She nuzzled closer, breathing deeply of fresh linen, vanilla and man, definitely man.
“Drink, Pa Mici, drink,” a deep basso voice rumbled.
Anya’s eye caught a snapshot of dark blue eyes, tousled midnight black hair. A thin white scar traced along the outline of a square jaw. Her vision was fuzzy around the edges. She picked up a slight hesitation between his words and her understanding. His lips moved and she received a nanosecond later, a weird built-in satellite delay. The hair on his muscled arm tickled across her back. His palm cupped the nape of her neck supporting her head. The thumb stroked downward. She trembled, leaning into the light caress.
The thick fingers of his other hand curved around a filigreed silver tumbler with maroon and gold swirls.
“Please, thirsty,” Anya mumbled as her lips pursed round the proffered straw.
“Careful, Pa Mici, lips that shape beg a kiss,” the deep voice rumbled.
Sweetness exploded on Anya’s tongue, a mélange of fruit? She didn’t recognize any of the flavors. Her eyes closed. The juice flowed through her mouth and down her throat easing the dryness. Voices in her mind, one was here, the basso, the other a baritone was close by. The vibrations sang sweet music to her sex. Anya’s skin flushed rose. She reached up and traced a finger along the thin scar. Anya knew she was dreaming. Her hero’s face was on the cover of every romance novel she ever read. He was an American privateer, scarred from a run-in with a British man-of-war or maybe a Regency Duke, scarred in a duel over his sister. It couldn’t be about a woman other than his sister, after all, this was her dream.
“Your skin is exquisite, Pa Mici. Do you feel us yet? “ His soft mobile lips swept light kisses across her cheek and nibbled at the corner of her mouth.
“Name ... my pirate ... name,” she insisted sticking out her lower lip, her mouth in moue.
“Jonal, rest now,” the voice soothed.
“Tis such a good dream,” Anya whispered as she grabbed his arm. “Please, don’t make me wake up.”
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