Jennifer W. (JWilson) reviewed on + 73 more book reviews
Haunted by a magical encounter in the desert after her jet was shot down, ex-fighter pilot Jas Hamilton is determined to discover why dreams of the mysterious golden-eyed man have derailed her life. When the two find each other after twenty years, they rekindle a passionate attraction.
Excerpt:
Poised on the edge of her bed, Jas waited for the broadcast to begin. Applause signaled the Vash diplomats' arrival. The president, the members of both houses of congress, and heads of state from around the world stood as the Vash delegation filed in. Dressed in their beautiful indigo uniforms, they greeted their audience with their distinctive handshake, gripping each other's forearms and wrists. But they saved most of their enthusiasm for the Secretary of Commerce, whom they flocked around until she was lost behind them.
After a spirited introduction from President Talley, Commander Lahdo stepped up to the podium. His resonant voice boomed, while a translator relayed his hopes for partnership, understanding, and, to no one's surprise, profit. To test her grasp of Basic, she concentrated Lahdo's voice. Here and there a phrase eluded her, a few words that she didn't recognize, but she could understand him. A talent for learning languages was something she'd inherited from her linguist mother, but it had never proven useful until now. Not that Basic was complicated. Throaty and to the point, it was designed to facilitate dialogue between inhabitants of countless worlds. Other languages existed, but they were never used in commerce.
To hearty applause, Lahdo relinquished the podium to the Secretary of Commerce and rejoined his delegation, basking in their adulation, their handshakes and smiles, until a tall Vash stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
A Vash dressed like a futuristic buccaneer.
Jas sucked in a breath. It was the devilishly charming space-rebel. His lean body radiated strength, purpose, and a powerful, masculine self-confidence that made her head swim and her body respond with deep, aching yearning.
He turned his back to the camera. His hands were fisted behind him and hidden from Lahdo, his fingers clasping and unclasping, baring the intensity of his apparent anger.
Lahdo's uneasy delegation began gathering around their leader, while dark-suited secret servicemen hovered closer, drawn by Lahdo's discomposure. A microphone placed nearby was picking up the argument, barely. Jas grabbed the remote, punched up the volume. The tall Vash 's tone was low but intense. "The Articles of Frontier Trade state that I may trade with whom I please. You cannot exclude me, Lahdo, as you tried today. I will commence contact with the merchant leaders of my choice."
Lahdo fidgeted. "The agreement will be signed next week. Earth will no longer be a frontier planet, and your articles will not apply."
The tall Vash 's hands closed into fists. "But until then, Commander, they do."
Lahdo's tawny skin gleamed with perspiration. He tugged at his collar, and his clipped Basic took on a pleading tone. "It is best that you and your companions leave the planet. I trust that one Earth week will be enough time to prepare the Quillie for departure. Shall my crew assist you in gathering the supplies you need?" Applause exploded, and the Secretary of Commerce relinquished the podium to the British Prime Minister. More words heated words were exchanged between the Lahdo and his antagonist, but because of the noise, she missed them.
"One Earth week," Lahdo said, louder.
The tall rebel gestured to two similarly dressed Vash standing nearby. One was tall and muscular with hard and handsome features like him; the other was much younger and blond. Then the rebel and his friends strode out of camera range, trailed by a battalion of secret servicemen.
Jas flopped backward onto the bed. Her Vash man had just been unceremoniously and undemocratically kicked out of a joint session of congress. For Pete's sake, he'd been kicked off the planet, too, if she'd heard Lahdo correctly. Her thoughts plunged ahead. Lahdo wanted to exclude him. Why? He must not be part of the delegation. She'd assumed all the Vash were, but if he wasn't, it would explain why she hadn't seen him in any of the previously aired interviews. In fact, she'd begun to think she had imagined him.
Without warning, a memory of the rebel's golden eyes evoked a shivery, erotic echo of the way she felt when she woke from the dream. But she clenched her teeth against the unbidden image; she'd endured too many years of unbidden images, fantasies that were more vivid than life. Common sense told her that this flesh and blood man had nothing to do with her dreams, and she couldn't fathom why he affected her so profoundly, but maybe somewhere in his world was her answer.
His world . . .
She sat up, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. She wasn't wealthy, and she wasn't a dignitary. Average citizens like her would have to wait a few years for the chance to travel into space. And even that was conjecture. She massaged her temples and concentrated. It looked like her only way into space was though the back door. But short of thumbing a ride on one of the Vash ships, how would she do that?
Thumbing a ride . . .
Yes - she could hitchhike. Her heart sped up as she analyzed plausibility and risk of such a scheme. It was a rash idea. Insane.
Electrifying .
She lurched off the bed and began to pace. All her life she'd been praised and rewarded for making sound, logical choices. Even her unconventional desire to become a fighter pilot had been driven by a sense of duty for her country. Dependable, do-right Jas. Well, except when it came to her love life, but she was smarter now. Her thoughts circled back to the Vash rebel. He was the key. If she could somehow make it worth his while, he might be willing to take her along. She'd bet that he didn't play by the rules like Lahdo and the others. He was an outcast, or better yet, an outlaw -- exactly the kind of individual she needed for her plan. Yep, he was her ticket out of here. And she had one short week to prove it.
Excerpt:
Poised on the edge of her bed, Jas waited for the broadcast to begin. Applause signaled the Vash diplomats' arrival. The president, the members of both houses of congress, and heads of state from around the world stood as the Vash delegation filed in. Dressed in their beautiful indigo uniforms, they greeted their audience with their distinctive handshake, gripping each other's forearms and wrists. But they saved most of their enthusiasm for the Secretary of Commerce, whom they flocked around until she was lost behind them.
After a spirited introduction from President Talley, Commander Lahdo stepped up to the podium. His resonant voice boomed, while a translator relayed his hopes for partnership, understanding, and, to no one's surprise, profit. To test her grasp of Basic, she concentrated Lahdo's voice. Here and there a phrase eluded her, a few words that she didn't recognize, but she could understand him. A talent for learning languages was something she'd inherited from her linguist mother, but it had never proven useful until now. Not that Basic was complicated. Throaty and to the point, it was designed to facilitate dialogue between inhabitants of countless worlds. Other languages existed, but they were never used in commerce.
To hearty applause, Lahdo relinquished the podium to the Secretary of Commerce and rejoined his delegation, basking in their adulation, their handshakes and smiles, until a tall Vash stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
A Vash dressed like a futuristic buccaneer.
Jas sucked in a breath. It was the devilishly charming space-rebel. His lean body radiated strength, purpose, and a powerful, masculine self-confidence that made her head swim and her body respond with deep, aching yearning.
He turned his back to the camera. His hands were fisted behind him and hidden from Lahdo, his fingers clasping and unclasping, baring the intensity of his apparent anger.
Lahdo's uneasy delegation began gathering around their leader, while dark-suited secret servicemen hovered closer, drawn by Lahdo's discomposure. A microphone placed nearby was picking up the argument, barely. Jas grabbed the remote, punched up the volume. The tall Vash 's tone was low but intense. "The Articles of Frontier Trade state that I may trade with whom I please. You cannot exclude me, Lahdo, as you tried today. I will commence contact with the merchant leaders of my choice."
Lahdo fidgeted. "The agreement will be signed next week. Earth will no longer be a frontier planet, and your articles will not apply."
The tall Vash 's hands closed into fists. "But until then, Commander, they do."
Lahdo's tawny skin gleamed with perspiration. He tugged at his collar, and his clipped Basic took on a pleading tone. "It is best that you and your companions leave the planet. I trust that one Earth week will be enough time to prepare the Quillie for departure. Shall my crew assist you in gathering the supplies you need?" Applause exploded, and the Secretary of Commerce relinquished the podium to the British Prime Minister. More words heated words were exchanged between the Lahdo and his antagonist, but because of the noise, she missed them.
"One Earth week," Lahdo said, louder.
The tall rebel gestured to two similarly dressed Vash standing nearby. One was tall and muscular with hard and handsome features like him; the other was much younger and blond. Then the rebel and his friends strode out of camera range, trailed by a battalion of secret servicemen.
Jas flopped backward onto the bed. Her Vash man had just been unceremoniously and undemocratically kicked out of a joint session of congress. For Pete's sake, he'd been kicked off the planet, too, if she'd heard Lahdo correctly. Her thoughts plunged ahead. Lahdo wanted to exclude him. Why? He must not be part of the delegation. She'd assumed all the Vash were, but if he wasn't, it would explain why she hadn't seen him in any of the previously aired interviews. In fact, she'd begun to think she had imagined him.
Without warning, a memory of the rebel's golden eyes evoked a shivery, erotic echo of the way she felt when she woke from the dream. But she clenched her teeth against the unbidden image; she'd endured too many years of unbidden images, fantasies that were more vivid than life. Common sense told her that this flesh and blood man had nothing to do with her dreams, and she couldn't fathom why he affected her so profoundly, but maybe somewhere in his world was her answer.
His world . . .
She sat up, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. She wasn't wealthy, and she wasn't a dignitary. Average citizens like her would have to wait a few years for the chance to travel into space. And even that was conjecture. She massaged her temples and concentrated. It looked like her only way into space was though the back door. But short of thumbing a ride on one of the Vash ships, how would she do that?
Thumbing a ride . . .
Yes - she could hitchhike. Her heart sped up as she analyzed plausibility and risk of such a scheme. It was a rash idea. Insane.
Electrifying .
She lurched off the bed and began to pace. All her life she'd been praised and rewarded for making sound, logical choices. Even her unconventional desire to become a fighter pilot had been driven by a sense of duty for her country. Dependable, do-right Jas. Well, except when it came to her love life, but she was smarter now. Her thoughts circled back to the Vash rebel. He was the key. If she could somehow make it worth his while, he might be willing to take her along. She'd bet that he didn't play by the rules like Lahdo and the others. He was an outcast, or better yet, an outlaw -- exactly the kind of individual she needed for her plan. Yep, he was her ticket out of here. And she had one short week to prove it.
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