Wanted: Handsome Alien Abductor Read online

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  New Concepts Publishing

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Copyright ©2011 by New Concepts Publishing

  First published in 2011, 2011

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

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  WANTED: HANDSOME ALIEN ABDUCTOR

  By

  Myra Nour

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  (C) copyright by Myra Nour, September 2011

  Cover Art by Eliza Black, September 2011

  ISBN 978-1-60394-547-9

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

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  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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  Chapter One

  Amber slammed the door, hard. She cursed under her breathe. When will I learn? Sarah and Brenna, her best friends since college, seem determined to see her married off.

  Not that Amber had anything against marriage, it was the fact that there seemed to be no decent guys left in the world. She had been engaged to Richard for six months before the Army sent him to Iraq and returned him a dead hero.

  Richard had been her true love. He was tall, muscular, motivated, and also had a sweet side to his danger loving nature. She should have known better than to date a Green Beret, especially a man who looked forward to serving in a war zone.

  Being a warrior, and a hell of a man, were two of the reasons Amber had been attracted to him in the first place. She sighed and flopped down on the couch. Her frustration was gone, replaced by sadness. Wiping a tear from one cheek, she made her mind up not to degenerate into a crying mess tonight. Although it'd been three years since Richard's death, sorrow still hit her occasionally.

  "Yeah, especially when you keep thinking about how great he was,” she mumbled aloud. Of course it was hard not to when all the men she met fell far short.

  Brenna and Sarah tried setting her up with their friends and co-workers, but no one measured up. A few had been nice, but too soft for her tastes.

  Her thoughts flicked back to Jack, the guy she'd slammed the door on tonight. Brenna had decided that beta types were way too tame for her, and had, with much nagging, set her up for a blind date.

  "He's a wild card,” Brenna had stated.

  "What does that mean?” Amber wished she had never let her friend talk her into this date.

  "You'll see,” Brenna said mysteriously.

  "If you are going to be obtuse, it's still not too late for me to catch a cold. Achoo,” she sneezed loudly.

  "Pretty convincing.” Brenna grinned and said, “Okay. He rides a motorcycle."

  "Better. And?” She waved her fingers.

  "He's a friend of my cousin Ron."

  Not better. Ron was one rough character. She frowned.

  Reading her expression, Brenna wheedled. “Oh, come on, it's just one date. I promised Ron I'd hook you up."

  "Uh, huh. Now it's clearer. Ron owes...what was his name?"

  "Jack."

  "Owes Jack something.” The date was looking worse by the minute.

  "Maybe,” her friend smiled. “Still I've seen him—he's a looker."

  "Give."

  "Tall, maybe six feet. Shoulder length brown hair, green eyes, slim but muscular."

  "I don't know."

  "Did I mention he looks a lot like Hugh Jackson?"

  "No you did not.” That sealed it. Amber didn't even have to say anything, Brenna read the interest in her eyes.

  The next day their date had started out well when Jack rode up on his motorcycle. She didn't know much about them, but it looked nice, and it was a Harley. Brenna had warned her to wear jeans so she could ride behind him.

  When he had taken off his helmet, she sucked in her breath. Not Hugh, but close enough for a brother. Her insides warmed and a tingle erupted from her center. She had to admit she liked what she saw, very much, and enjoyed wrapping her arms around his waist for the ride. Hard muscles beneath her fingers. The tingle had spread and she had to stop herself from imaging what he'd be like in bed.

  Amber was impatient to reach their destination so she could get a really good look at his face and physique. They pulled up in front of a bar with dozens of motorcycles parked outside. The music blasted out as someone exited. She bit her bottom lip and tried not to judge. But I'm a history teacher.

  When they entered, Amber clutched Jack's bulging bicep. It was noisy, dimly lit, and packed with tough looking patrons. There was lots of long hair, beards, tattoos, and leather. Amber chided herself again not to stereotype.

  "Hey Jack,” the bartender called. “How they hanging?"

  "Pretty good.” Her escort grabbed his crotch with one hand while he winked at her.

  Gross. What have I gotten myself into?

  Amber was propelled forward by Jack's momentum. A couple of bearded men left a small table and Jack grabbed a chair, swinging his arm for her to sit. Several bikers at the next table laughed. So, Jack was putting on a show for her, or maybe for his compadres.

  He ordered beer, and she did the same. Though she really didn't care for beer, a mixed drink with an umbrella didn't seem right in this atmosphere. Or perhaps she wanted to fit in a little bit instead of sticking out so much.

  Amber had worn her hair in a low ponytail, but she noticed the other women wore their hair free. Her jeans were snug, but not skin tight as the women wearing denim or leather. While her shirt was a form-fitting t-shirt, there was room to breathe. Her large breasts were clearly visible, but the low cut blouses many of the other women seemed to be the norm. She almost felt overdressed.

  Jack kept downing beers as the minutes passed, while Amber still sipped on her first drink. The place seemed to get rowdier, which didn't seem possible. She wasn't afraid of having fun, her two wacky friends had dragged her into some weird places before.

  There had been the all female gay bar. One of Brenna's co-workers was celebrating her five year anniversary with her partner. Amber went because she was always curious about such places. The music had been great, the drinks tasty, and her friends lively. The group danced together, and it was kind of freeing not worrying about a male dates intentions. It was just plain fun. Actually, it was not a weird experience, just outside her “norm” of activities. But she did feel out of her element in the motorcycle hangout, her friends were at home, and she didn't know Jack.

  Her companion was jocular, and Amber tried to hold a conversation with him. But his remarks were tinged with sexual innuendos, and he turned frequently to chat with the bikers at the next table. She felt isolated. This definitely was not turning out to be a good date.

  Amber was patient though. She had to be in order to teach children. Hours passed and finally she
had enough.

  "I'm tired Jack."

  He laughed, patting her hand. “The night's still young."

  It was 2:00 am. “I'll call a cab."

  Jack looked surprised, then disappointed. As she stood up, he staggered to his feet. She found a yellow cab on her blackberry and phoned them. Jack tried to knock the cell from her hand, but missed, making him flip around completely.

  It would have been funny, except he was trying to destroy her expensive cell phone. She waited by the bar for a while, and then walked outside. Jack followed her, but then wandered off.

  Relief flooded through her when the cab drove up. But as she pulled the door open, Jack reappeared and tried to grasp the handle. She nudged his body, and he swayed, then staggered a few feet back. Enough for her to dive in the back and then thankfully she heard the lock click. “Thanks,” she said to the driver. They edged slowly out of the parking lot, for it was full of motorcycles and people.

  Glancing behind, Amber moaned. Jack was on his cycle, gunning it and weaving toward the cab with a determined grimace. He wasn't wearing his helmet, which must have been left at the bar.

  She watched with growing horror as he kept pace behind them. She didn't want to be responsible for his death. How could he avoid a wreck in his drunken condition?

  Somehow, he made it all the way, parking on the grass in front of her house.

  "Ma'am, do you need some help?"

  Amber was thankful for her luck, having a cab driver who truly intended to look after her. Too bad he was over fifty, with the face of a pugilist that only a mother could love.

  Punching in 911 on her cell, she said, “If you don't mind, I'd love some company until the police get here."

  In the meantime, Jack yelled outside the car window, and then erupted into curses when she ignored him. He tripped on the curb, and lay sprawled, laughing.

  Amber had hesitated initially in calling the police, but was glad now she had. Not only could she not handle a man in a drunken rage, but she didn't want him to end up splattered on the highway. A night in jail should sober him up.

  When the police arrived, she told them what happened, and thanked the cab driver again. As a young policeman guided Jack's head inside the car, he shouted, “I bought you drinks. You owe me a fuck."

  Her cheeks reddened. The officer shoved Jack into the back seat, and one of his arms thumped hard against the metal jam.

  "Oops."

  She almost laughed. The whole thing was embarrassing, but now it had slipped into ridiculous.

  So, here she was, back home and another night spoiled by a rotten date. It'd be a long time before she let Brenna or Sarah talk her into another one. Maybe never. She couldn't help but smile though. Her friends were well intentioned. Sarah was happily married and Brenna happily looking.

  Amber flipped on the TV, frustrated and bored. She wanted to find the all encompassing love Sarah had too. Will was not only a handsome man with black hair and blue eyes, but Sarah was his world. With her own striking looks, Amber always got eyed by men, single and married. But when Will was around, he barely glanced at her. That was real love.

  Of all things, they'd met at a museum. Amber smiled. Maybe I should visit the museum. Her smile turned into a frown, and she threw the remote down. It wouldn't be that simple. But Sarah had hinted one time that there was more involved in getting the two of them together. Something about magic. At the time Amber had ignored Sarah's remarks, thinking she was head over heels in love. And to Sarah that was magic.

  She grinned, thinking of Derek. Now there was a case of total lack of magic in the relationship. Sarah had introduced them. He was a computer programmer, very smart, and his manners were impeccable, for he always treated her like a lady. Derek even liked to cook, which was cool. With his short blonde-brown hair and brown eyes, he'd been cute, in spite of his large glasses that gave him a nerdy look.

  But when they went out one night with her friends to a country bar Brenna frequented, Derek had shown his true colors. At least in her eyes.

  A man, who was clearly drunk, came to their table and asked her to dance. She expected, no hoped, her date would tell him to get lost. The man was average build, and a little on the slender size. He didn't seem intimating to her except for his inebriated state. But, looking nervous, Derek had said, “If you want to,” putting the choice on her.

  Normally, she would have told the guy no, but her date's weak behavior aggravated her. Not only did she dance several times with the drunk, she had executed some sexy moves, staring at Derek while she gyrated. See what you could have had.

  Derek had looked even more uncomfortable, and suddenly seemed very interested in his beer, sipping it down. She knew he'd never call her again. Good!

  Later, when he walked Amber to her front door, she wasn't surprised he didn't attempt a kiss. He was probably embarrassed by his own inaction.

  Much later that night, while she flipped the TV channels endlessly, trying to distract herself, Amber felt bad. She had acted trashy. That wasn't her. He is not Richard. Exactly, he was not a warrior.

  Throwing the remote down, she poured a glass of wine. Though not much of a drinker, she could see where her thoughts were headed. Richard. Maybe drowning her sorrow would work. Certainly, she knew nice beta men wouldn't work for her. She had drunk too much, finally passing out on the couch.

  Well, tonight Jack had not been a beta male, yet he wasn't what she was looking for either. Amber thumbed the stack of books she always kept on her coffee table. A few were new interests, but more were old favorites she planned on rereading when there was time. Nothing with magical elements grabbed her attention. Darn. There was one somewhere in this house, about a genie and a playboy.

  Her hand passed over one of her favorites, by the same author who had written the genie story. She began to read, becoming lost in the imaginary world of large, handsome warriors. The heroine had been kidnapped and later became the Queen.

  Amber bit her lower lip. Why am I so interested in the captive/captor theme? Might as well ask why so many other women found it exciting as well. For her, there was something about being held in a strong man's arms, as if he were the rope that bound them together. Sometimes she had titillating dreams where the man had her tightly confined with ropes, while she kneeled at his feet.

  She gazed up at him, enthralled by his male beauty. Then he pulled her into his arms, ravaging her lips with savage kisses. All the while her tied arms remained. It made her knees weak and her body flush with heat.

  The dog next door barked, snapping her out of the dream state. Darn pooch. Amber laid the book back down. Man of her dreams. Sure. She had her pick between soft beta men, or roughens too hard-edged for her liking.

  Amber stared into space. Am I being too picky? She shook her head at herself. She didn't think so. Somewhere, out there, another Richard existed. Or at least someone within the realm of his physical looks and charisma.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  Later that week she met with Sarah for lunch. When she stated her feelings, her friend said, “I think you are setting the bar too high. There aren't too many Richard's in this world."

  Amber snorted. “Well, maybe I should be looking elsewhere than Earth."

  "Sure. So beam me up,” Sarah giggled. They both were huge Star Trek fans.

  "Oh, better,” Amber laughed. “Hang out a sign in front of my house—Wanted: Handsome Alien Abductor."

  Now Sarah laughed loudly. The waiter brought their drinks and stared at them. Amber wiped at the laughter tears at the corner of her eyes.

  After they finished eating, Sarah wanted to stroll in the nearby park. They found a secluded bench, surrounded by low hanging branches of the trees around it.

  "No nosy neighbors here,” her friend smiled.

  "Or waiters,” she added.

  "Amber, going back to the discussion of a perfect man for you-"

  She interrupted with a wave of one hand. “I thought we
established there is no Enterprise coming to my rescue."

  Sarah smiled, and then her face turned serious. “I hoped you would find someone, but I've seen you struggle."

  "Maybe I'm meant to be an old maid.” Amber didn't even believe that statement as it left her mouth. She admired Sarah and Will's relationship, and she had once had that special someone. She wanted it again.

  As if to refute her thoughts, she blurted out, “I don't need a man to complete

  me."

  "Don't be silly,” her friend dismissed her words. “I just hoped you would find him so I wouldn't have to share my big secret with you."

  "What?” Amber had no idea what she was talking about.

  "The secret of the magic that brought Will and I together."

  "Oh,” she shrugged. “Another sharing on the magic of that chance meeting."

  "Not exactly.” Sarah eyed her thoughtfully. “Will you promise to listen to the whole story?"

  She nodded, too overwhelmed with curiosity to do else wise.

  Sarah started slow, then her words picked up speed. She told a crazy, wonderful tale of a Goddess granting her wish. Then the fulfillment of her wish captured in a handsome pirate and adventure on the high seas.

  "Where did you read this one, sounds worth picking up?"

  "Amber, you aren't listening. This really happened to me."

  "Uhuh. And I suppose since you are here, in the twenty first century, only you returned from this time travel voyage? Wait, wait,” Amber waved both arms, chuckling. “Let me guess, Will is the pirate and you brought him back with you."

  Sarah frowned, clearly annoyed at her. She leaned toward Amber. “In a way he did return and in a way he did not."

  "What are you talking about?” Her friend was starting to sound a little nutty. Had she drank too much wine at lunch? She couldn't remember.

  Sarah proceeded to tell her of meeting her dream lover, the pirate captain, at the museum. When she stopped, Amber simply stared at her. Had she lost her mind?

  "I know what you are thinking.” Sarah sighed.

  "Really, now you are psychic?” She couldn't keep the fear from her voice, although she had meant it to be sarcastic.