“5 Stars! A fast-paced, action-adventure tale that you'll want to read in one sitting--or stay up late reading far into the night.”
The survivors of a terrible wreck meet again—but this time only one can survive.
The long-awaited, standalone sequel to The Wreck of the Nebula Dream…
They survived an iconic spaceship wreck together. She never expected to see him again … especially not armed to kill her.
Twilka Zabour is an interstellar celebrity. She built on her notoriety as a carefree Socialite who survived the terrible wreck of the Nebula Dream, and launched a successful design house. But now the man who gave meaning to her life, then left her, is back–this time for the worst of reasons. Will he kill her … or help her survive?
D’nvannae Brother Khevan survived the Nebula Dream in the company of a lovely, warm woman, only to be pulled away from her, back into his solitary life in the service of the Red Lady. Now Twilka’s within his reach again–for all the wrong reasons. Khevan will do everything within his power to discover why Twilka has been targeted for assassination, and to save her.
But Khevan is not Twilka’s only pursuer. Will allies Nick and Mara Jameson arrive in time to aid the couple, or will Khevan and Twilka’s ingenuity be all that stands between them and death?
“Twenty thousand on the red,” she said, having seen his bet and choosing the opposite. “I’ll spin.” She leaned over to spin the retro wheel, giving the room a full view of her cleavage, accented with perfume dust and temporary diamond-studded tattoos.
There was a growing silence around the table. She didn’t think the onlookers knew who he was—had been—to her. She was famous, her face appearing everywhere as the embodiment of her brand, but he was just a D’nvannae. In reality, Khevan could never be dismissed as “just” anything, could he? Tossing her hair, she raised her glass as the croupier proclaimed her win. “Again.”
“The lady wins again,” said the dealer.
“Your lucky night,” Khevan said, inclining his head to her slightly.
Lords, his voice was as deep and sensuous as ever. Twilka grabbed the table rail with her free hand. Did he know who she was? Of course he did, but the bastard was pretending not to recognize her. “Available for contract, I see.”
“Technically true, but traveling to an outlying temple for a required ritual,” he said. His handsome, tattooed face gave nothing away. “There would have to be an emergency for me to take a contract tonight.”
“Did you want to let the bet ride?” asked the croupier.
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