Zhiruto

An alien bodyguard thinks she's his fated mate!

Officer Lora Griffin signed up for the alien dating auction to raise funds for the animal shelter, not to find love, especially not with an extraterrestrial. Little did she know her date would dissolve into a puddle of goo, leaving her tangled in a high-stakes investigation with a partner built of seven feet of solid blue muscle who keeps looking at her like she could be his next meal…

Zhiruto is on a mission to catch an interstellar assassin, and the last thing he needs is a diplomatic incident. To navigate Earth’s complex social landscape, he teams up with Lora, a sharp-tongued, captivating human who seems to command respect from her peers. As they dive deeper into the case, Zhiruto’s primal instincts roar to life, drawing him irresistibly to Lora.

She's his fated mate.

But Lora’s not convinced, and with duty calling him back to his home planet, Zhiruto must find a way to ignite the sparks between them before time runs out.

Get ready for a whirlwind of humor, heart, and heat! This story is perfect for readers who crave their science fiction with a side of sizzling romance and laughter.

Lora poured two glasses of champagne and offered one to the blue-skinned man sitting across from her at the table. Stars glittered overhead, and a few couples were dancing in front of the stage where a live band played. She had to give Georgie credit—the alien charity auction had so far been a success, raising more money for the animal shelter than all the previous fundraisers combined. She also had to admit that her worry about being set up on a date with a big-eyed, six-tentacled alien from Area 51 had been unfounded.

Every alien at the auction was positively scrumptious—if they even were aliens. She still had her doubts, though their blue skin looked amazingly realistic.

Extraterrestrials had supposedly landed in Beijing several decades ago. They’d showed off for the cameras, talked to a few dignitaries, then disappeared without a trace. Most people believed the visit had been a hoax, but Lora’s friend Georgie insisted this Intergalactic Dating Agency thing was legit. Then again, Georgie’s mom used to tell stories about being abducted. Whatever. Lora was willing to go along with the cosplay to make money for the shelter.

Her date wore a navy blue suit and looked like a broad-shouldered member of the Blue Man Group, bald head and all. However, his stoic silence was giving her a bit of a creepy vibe.

“So, have you been to Earth before?” she asked, trying to initiate alien small talk. She pushed one of the champagne flutes toward him, wrapping Pepper’s leash tighter around her free hand. She regretted bringing the gangly Redbone Coonhound along—the guy couldn’t seem to take his attention off the dog.

Her date turned his gaze to her, his eyes a solid black that was hard to get used to. “No.”

A piercing scream erupted at a table behind her.

At almost the same moment, her date’s body seemed to quiver. Not like someone with a chill or even a person with palsy—he actually quivered, like his body was made of Jell-o. Then he collapsed inward, reduced to a glob of glistening blue slime in the seat of his chair.

Lora gaped, then stood to pull the hem of her crimson ball gown out of the way of the gelatinous sludge rolling off the seat toward her. Oh, hell no. Georgie had promised there would be no slime.

Her date—or what was left of him—landed on the grass with a plop.

More screams were coming from other tables, and she glanced around, heart pounding fast and hard. Everywhere she turned, blue-skinned aliens were dissolving. A white poodle darted past, dragging its leash. A woman ran after it shouting, “They must have death rays!”

Most of the alien guests had looked like blue humans, but the two gray aliens with horns and wings now perched on the stage several yards away. Now one of them flew upward—actually flew!—and batted something from the sky.

Lora gaped, all doubt about these being real aliens dispelled.

A drone smashed to the ground several yards away. A small red light blinked from its underside and letters on one of the rotor arms spelled Mini2. That’s not a death ray. Just some amateur trying to get footage of the soirée. And definitely not the cause of disintegrations. So who was attacking them and from where?

She turned a full circle, looking for a shooter as she dug out the cell phone she’d stashed in the bodice of her gown. She knew she shouldn’t have listened to Georgie’s insistence that a police uniform didn’t fit the theme for participants in the dating auction. Trying to keep her curious dog from burying her nose in alien goo, she called dispatch.

An automated voice said, “All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.”

“Fuck.” She shoved the phone back into her bodice and watched as women in ball gowns tripped over toppled chairs, loose pets, and each other in their need to flee.

Towering well above the crowd, a singular set of broad blue shoulders and flowing navy colored hair was moving toward the park’s fountain. He appeared to be the only surviving blue alien at the party. Was he responsible for the attack—or trying to escape it?

Cursing silently at her four-inch heels, she followed him, threading between the abandoned tables.