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Escaping Korth
Before The Fall, Book 3
As if the threat of torture and interrogation isn’t enough…
K’urt Knox, a Korthan cyborg warrior assigned to interrogate human combatants alongside his mogha companion, W’ard, is complicated by the fact that when they enter the prison cell this time, he can’t speak. He knows this prisoner from his childhood, from a time when Korthans and humans lived together in peace. Now, he recognizes the fully mature human female combatant he is supposed to interrogate as his mate.
Liana Walker is an agronomist for the Human Colony Alliance. Studying newly terraformed soil on a neutral world, she is pleased to find the terraforming process worked. Her pleasure soon turns to fear when she is captured by Korthan warriors. With no end of war between their peoples in sight, the Korthans declare her a combatant and imprison her on Korth—with a deadly creature hiding in Liana’s dark cell.
Attraction and longing build between Liana and K’urt, but there is something else lurking in the shadows, something W’ard is determined to dispatch once and for all. Meanwhile, K’urt must try to find a way to convince the Korthans that Liana isn’t a combatant and deal with the fact that his fated mate is a sworn enemy. If their love is to stand a chance, they need to find a way to escape Korth. Will Liana recognize K’urt from their childhood, and if she does, will she trust him and the feelings growing between them before it is too late?
Excerpt
The ooze on the far wall appeared to be moving with the flickering light. She rubbed blurry vision from her eyes.
Wait, the ooze was moving.
Heart thumping, Liana sat up straight. Why couldn’t the ooze just be ooze?
She sucked in a breath as what appeared to be a fuzzy leg snaked out from beneath the greenish-brown substance. Another leg popped out, and then another.
Having seen pictures of what a tarantula looked like on old Earth, she was sure this creature was the size of one.
Eight fuzzy brown legs supporting a ball of green and gray muck scurried across the floor in a flurry of spraying liquid.
The so-called mattress crunched loudly as she jumped to her feet, standing on her tippy toes, back flat against the slimy wall.
The mucky terror stopped in its tracks, directly in front of her. The only comfort was that it was on the floor.
The mattress began to sag under her weight, until she, too, was essentially standing on the floor.
Son-of-a—
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