Galaxy Girls

Author's note: Galaxy Girls is published already as an ebook. I'm working on a stand-alone novella from the series that should be available in a few weeks. I plan on posting 3 excerpts of Galaxy Girls a week until the entire book is up.

Chapter One

It was the best day of Phyrne’s life, even before landing on Earth five days ago. She, her mother Liss, her aunt Ki and her cousin Deena strutted through the gleaming casino with the one thing that brought them across thirty-one solar systems to New Jersey.

Money. Bundles of money. Their purses stuffed with money. Lovely, lovely money.

She wanted to laugh, dance and do cartwheels. But not yet. Later. Twenty-five-year-old women didn’t do cartwheels on Earth. Even after they’d known great sorrow and now knew great joy.Double joy. Freedom for the first time in their lives. And money with which to enjoy the freedom.

A plume of acrid cigarette smoke coiled in front of her and she made a face. The casino was just like she’d seen on the monitors on Kergeron, but the constant noise was louder, the motion more intense, the air sizzling with excitement. Music blaring, machines clinking, voices talking, colored lights blinking.

Avid eyes stared at the machines, but a few followed her and her family. She faced forward, careful not to catch anyone’s gaze, but in her peripherals, she saw auras, flashes of colors tinted with the deep pinkish red of carnality.

She clamped down on her pheromones. The worst timing for her make-me-a-mom chemicals to fire up. She didn’t want men following her. She didn’t want men in her new life. She didn’t want men.

Fighting the urge to release stray scents that would make men howl, she kept her gaze on the back of the nice hostess leading them out of the busy casino.

Out into the new life they would live as average Earthlings. The life her aunt Phyrne had envisioned for them ten years ago.

She quivered with an eagerness she hadn’t felt since she was a young girl, before she’d experienced the shock and pain of a fist on her face. Hard to believe she would escape Kergeron while she was mated to Argon and he was ramming her like she was the hill and he was the bulldozer.

But Argon was dead now and here they were. Free.

Better yet, free and rich.

The casino hostess opened a door and ushered them into a corridor. The smile she gave them was strained, brown spikes dulling her peach aura.

“Since you insisted on cash, we thought it would be safer for you to leave from the back.”

Her eyes darted away from theirs, and the brown spikes bled into the peach.

Phyrne shivered, her excitement turning to trepidation, though the darkening aura could mean anything. The hostess could be thinking about a sick child or a lover who beat her. Or she could suffer from one of many health issues they’d seen on the monitors back on Kergeron.

A lifetime of watching Earth TV had primed them for their new life, but they didn’t know everything. Deena could use her telepathic skills to find out what the hostess was thinking, but her jaw was rigid, her thin face tense with the effort of blocking out the cacophony of thoughts.

Phyrne ached for Deena. The plethora of auras in the casino had distracted Phyrne, colors flashing and popping wherever she looked, others shrinking and cringing. Easy to see who was winning and who was losing. But how much worse to have hundreds of thoughts swarming into her brain like an army of buzzing blusts?

The hostess took the lead again, hurrying past a stairway, elevator and bathroom. No glitz here, the walls white and stark, the mud-colored carpet so smooth the soles of Phyrne’s shoes slipped. Feeling like a clumsy udzo, she slapped her palm against the wall to keep from falling.

The others moved on, and she scurried to catch up. The hostess opened the back door, bidding them good day, speaking so fast her tongue tripped and she had to say it again. Phyrne didn’t need to read her thoughts to know she was thinking: Go. Get out. Hurry.

Maybe the hostess needed to pee. Kergeronians had elimination emergencies, too. That came with the human body they shared with Earth people, the genetic similarity confirmed by tests conducted in the previous century on a few Earth specimens. Unwilling Earth specimens.

Phyrne’s relatives chirped goodbye to the hostess and hurried out into the air that smelled like salty ocean mixed with car fumes. A black dumpster on one side and a sign on the other said Deliveries Only. Across the street was a huge concrete structure Phyrne identified as a parking building for cars. One lone van was parked by the curb, beige and nondescript.