Science Fiction Romance/Romantic Comedy
Date Published: 3/13/2017
True love is said to defy time, but can it survive space, aliens, and being abducted? Angus MacNamara and Erin O’Shea are about to find out.
The big blue planet that most call Earth desperately needs matchmakers. There is only one small—okay, BIG—problem. No one wants the alien dating service job. No one. The original matchmakers are dead, and much worse, their DNA is no longer viable for cloning.
Solution? Go back in time to some of Earth’s other—thankfully slower spinning—versions, and retrieve the alternates of the one couple in any universe who seems able to do the job.
Far easier said than done though, especially when the alternates are anything but a loving couple, and both are none too pleased to be thrown into the future.
What does oil and water create? Salad dressing or a real mess of aliens, humans, and matchmaking fun!
Over four weeks in that box and Angus was a changed man… at least physically. She put a hand on his arm. It was warm to her touch, thank the Goddess. She had feared they might turn him into one of the cold ones. Some of the aliens had much lower body temperatures. Their clothing kept them at a chilled level that would have had her building a peat fire in the hearth of her little cottage back home. How she missed that little house now, even the broken cook stove and the misbehaving flue. But Doctor Nate had warned her not to dwell on the past since there was no going back to it. He said it was scientifically impossible. She would have said that applied to nearly everything she saw here.
“Angus,” she said. “Are ya alright? Speak to me, for feck’s sake. I’ve been waiting weeks for ya to come around. I don’t like being the only one scared shitless here.”
Eyes blinked open and a turquoise gaze met hers finally. She wanted to lay her head on his chest and weep with relief that he lived.
“What the feck happened to me?” Angus asked, moving to sit up. Erin O’Shea’s surprising strong hand pushed him back down.
“No, don’t raise up. Ya have been very ill,” Erin said. “Take it slow for a bit. No one means ya harm that I can tell.”
“That fellow I drew my gun on did,” Angus said, irritated at the tiredness he felt.
Erin shook her head. “Yar talking about Agent Black and he’s the least of our concerns in this place, Angus.”
His grip on her arm was urgent. “Did they hurt ya?” Angus asked roughly.
Again, Erin shook her head as she peered into his tired gaze. Men could defile ya when they took a notion, but they’d take a knife to anyone else that tried. All men she knew were just as strange to her as any alien she’d met so far.
“No one’s hurt me. They’ve all been completely kind. When yar well enough, I will explain what I know about things. It’s very confusing here, but once ya adjust, they let ya move around with just one guard.”
“Guard? Is this… is this a prison, then?” Angus asked, his throat parched for a drink.
Erin could tell Angus was fighting sleep and losing. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just very different from Lisdoonvarna. Sleep now, Angus. We’ll talk in a bit when yar more alert. They let me come visit ya whenever I want.”
“Good. Come back soon then,” Angus said.
She felt him pull her hand to his chest. Even covered with a sheet she could feel the hard muscles beneath her palm. Angus felt under her fingers like Toorg looked. He definitely hadn’t felt like that before the box.
His action of hanging on to her had her remembering the one and only time she’d found herself under him. Even with no muscles, Angus had shown her a slice of heaven she’d never seen before. It had been wonderful right up to the part where he’d called her Mary just before finding his own relief.
That passionate madness was water under a bridge neither of them would ever see again. She’d be no man’s whore substitute, not even for the grieving widower who vexed her heart.
Nine years Angus had mourned his wife and nine years Erin had waited for him to stop. As far as she knew, there had been no woman under him but her. Apparently, Angus preferred the pleasure of his own hand, especially if there was an oversized glass of ale in it most of the time.
Erin snorted as she stared at the man on the table. “I can’t believe they’d think I’d ever love a wreck of a man like ya, Angus MacNamara. Obviously, the Universe 1 version of me was completely daft. Unless yer version here was made better than yar ever going to be.”
She stopped talking and saw Angus was completely unconscious again.
Running her hand down his chest, she let her fingers bump over all the ridges. Why hadn’t they bothered to do this to her body? She was soft around the middle. Plus, it would have been nice to have a tighter butt and a little better lift to her breasts.
Thirty-eight wasn’t old by any definition she had of aging, but it wasn’t like she was twenty-five either. Angus felt twenty-five… or at least thirty-five. They’d sent her through some fecking beeping machine and not touched her again afterward. That decision, given what they’d done to Angus, was just one more thing she didn’t understand.
Angus jerked in response to stroking fingertips and woke under her touch. Her hand had drifted lower than she realized. She snatched her hand away, mostly because it wanted to keep exploring.
“We’ve been kidnapped,” Angus declared roughly, then rolled his head to the side and slept once more.
Erin nodded, though Angus could no longer see her response. “Close enough,” she said and patted his chest one final time.
About the Author
Donna McDonald published her first romance novel in March of 2011. Forty plus novels later, she admits to living her own happily ever after as a full time author. Her work spans several genres, such as contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction. Humor is the most common element across all her writing. Addicted to making readers laugh, she includes a good dose of romantic comedy in every book.