The international publishing phenomenon Ice Planet Barbarians, now in a special print edition!
Fall in love with the out-of-this-world romance between Georgie Carruthers, a human woman, and Vektal, an alien from another planet, in this expanded edition with bonus materials and an exclusive epilogue—in print only!
You’d think being abducted by aliens would be the worst thing that could happen to me. And you’d be wrong. Because now the aliens are having ship trouble, and they’ve left their cargo of human women—including me—on an ice planet.
We’re not equipped for life in this desolate winter wasteland. Since I’m the unofficial leader, I head out into the snow to look for help.
I find help all right. A big blue horned alien introduces himself in a rather . . . startling way. Vektal says that I'm his mate, his chosen female—and that the reason his chest is purring is because of my presence. He’ll help me and my people survive, but this poses a new problem.
If Vektal helps us survive, I’m not sure he’s going to want to let me go.
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Ruby Dixon is an author of all things science fiction romance. She lives in the South with her husband and geriatric cats.
The international publishing phenomenon Ice Planet Barbarians, now in a special print edition!
Fall in love with the out-of-this-world romance between Georgie Carruthers, a human woman, and Vektal, an alien from another planet, in this expanded edition with bonus materials and an exclusive epilogue-in print only!
You'd think being abducted by aliens would be the worst thing that could happen to me. And you'd be wrong. Because now the aliens are having ship trouble, and they've left their cargo of human women-including me-on an ice planet.
We're not equipped for life in this desolate winter wasteland. Since I'm the unofficial leader, I head out into the snow to look for help.
I find help all right. A big blue horned alien introduces himself in a rather…startling way. Vektal says that I'm his mate, his chosen female-and that the reason his chest is purring is because of my presence. He'll help me and my people survive, but this poses a new problem.
If Vektal helps us survive, I'm not sure he's going to want to let me go.
Georgie
Up until yesterday, I, Georgie Carruthers, never believed in aliens. Oh, sure, there were all kinds of possibilities out there in the universe, but if someone would have told me that little green men were hanging around Earth in flying saucers, just waiting to abduct people? I would have told them they were crazy.
But that was yesterday.
Today? Today's a very different sort of story.
I suppose it all started last night. It was pretty ordinary, overall. I came home after a long day of working the drive-thru teller window at the bank, nuked a Lean Cuisine, ate it while watching TV, and dozed off on the couch before stumbling to bed. Not exactly the life of the party, but hey. It was a Tuesday, and Tuesdays were all work, no play. I went to sleep, and from there, shit got weird.
My dreams were messed up. Not the usual losing teeth or naked in front of the class dreams. These were far more sinister. Dreams of loss and abandonment. Dreams of pain and cold white rooms. Dreams of walking in a tunnel and seeing an oncoming train. In that dream, I tried to lift my hand to shield me from the light.
Except when I went to raise my hand, I couldn't.
That had woken me up from my slumber. I squinted into the tiny light someone was shining in my eyes. Someone was . . . shining something in my eyes? I blinked, trying to focus, and realized that I wasn't dreaming at all. I wasn't home, either. I was . . . somewhere new.
Then the light clicked off and a bird chirped. I squinted, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, and I found myself surrounded by . . . things. Things with long black eyes and big heads and skinny pale arms. Little green men.
I'd screamed. I'd screamed bloody murder, actually.
One of the aliens tilted its head at me, and the bird chirping sound happened again, even though his mouth didn't move. Something hot and dry wrapped over my mouth, choking me, and a noxious scent filled my nostrils. Oh shit. Was I going to die? Frantically, I worked my jaw, trying to breathe even as the world got dark around me.
Then, I went back to sleep, dreaming of work. I always dreamed of work when I was stressed. For hours on end, angry banking clients yelled at me as I kept trying to tear open packs of twenties that wouldn't seem to come open. I'd try to count out change only to get distracted. Work dreams are the worst, usually, but this one was a relief. No trains. No aliens. Just banking. I could deal with banking.
And that brings me to . . . here.
I'm awake. Awake and not entirely sure where I am. My eyes slide open, and I gaze around me. It smells like I'm in a sewer, I can feel a wall behind me, and my body hurts all freaking over. My head feels blurry and slow, like all of me hasn't quite woken up yet. My limbs feel heavy. Drugged, I realize. Someone's drugged me.
Not someone. Something.
My breath quickens as a mental image of the dark-eyed aliens returns, and I look for them. Wherever I'm at, I'm alone.
Thank God.
I squint in the low light, trying to make out my surroundings. It seems to be a large, dark room. Faint orange light is emitted from small running tubes in the ceiling about twenty feet above. The walls themselves are black, and if I didn't know better, I'd say this looks like a cargo bay from some weird science fiction movie. On the wall opposite me, I count six large six-foot metal tubes lined up against the wall like lockers. Orange and green lights run up and down the sides of the tubes in a variety of squiggles and dots that might be some sort of alien writing. On the far wall, there's an oblong oval door. I can't get to the door, though, because I'm behind a metal grid of some kind.
And there's a god-awful smell. Actually, it's not just one smell, it's several of them. It's like a piss-shit-vomit-sweat cocktail, and it makes me gag. I try to cover my mouth with my hand, but my arm is slow to respond and all I manage to do is flail a little. Ugh.
I swing my drugged, heavy head, looking around the room. Actually, I'm not alone, now that I look around. There are others piled onto this side of the grid, bodies curled up and asleep. In the low light, I count seven, maybe eight forms about my size, huddled together like puppies. Seeing as how we're all on this side of the metal grid, I'm starting to suspect I'm in a jail cell of some kind.
Or a cage.
I guess if I have to be in a cage, it could be worse. There's room enough to stand, though not much more than that. At least there are no aliens in here with me. I want to panic, but I'm too out of it. This is like going to the dentist's office and getting a dose of laughing gas. I'm having a hard time focusing on anything.
My bare upper arm aches, and I sluggishly rub my fingers on it. There are several raised bumps on my arm that weren't there before, and I rub it harder, feeling something hard under the skin. What the fuck? I try to peer at it in the dark, but I can't see anything. Images of the aliens and the light shining in my eyes, the nightmares, the terror-it all rises, and I panic. A whimper escapes in my throat.
A hand touches my other arm. "Don't scream," a girl whispers.
I roll my too heavy head until I can look over at her. She's about my age, but blonde and thinner than me. Her hair's long and dirty, her eyes big in her lean face. She glances around the room, and then puts a finger to her lips in case I didn't understand her earlier warning.
Silence. Okay. Okay. I choke the cry rising in my throat and try to remain calm. I nod. Don't scream. Don't scream. I can keep my shit together. I can.
"You all right?"
"Yeaaah . . ." I slur, my mouth unable to form words. And . . . I drool all over myself. Lovely. I lift one of my heavy hands to swipe at my mouth. "Thorry-"
"You're okay," she says before I can panic again. Her voice is pitched low so as to not wake up the others. "We're all a bit hung over when we wake up. They drug everyone when they arrive. It'll wear off in a bit. I'm Liz."
"Georgie," I tell her, taking time to sound out my name properly. I rub my arm and point at it, at the strange bumps. "Whattth going on?"
"Well," Liz says, "you were abducted by aliens. But I guess that one was obvious, right?"
I smile wryly. Or I try to. I probably just end up drooling on myself again.
Liz shifts next to me. "Okay, let me see if I can hit the big highlights. Everyone else here?" She thumbs a gesture at the others piled into the cage, still sleeping. "They've been abducted, too. All Earth, most American. I think there's a Canadian in there. You twenty-two?"
"Yeth?"
"Yeah, I thought so. We all are. Let me also guess: live alone, not pregnant, no major health issues, no nearby family?"
"How-"
"Because we're all in the same boat," Liz says, her tone bleak. "Every girl they pick up has the same story. Except for Megan. She was pregnant. Two months along, she said, and they vacuumed her out like it was no big deal." Liz shudders. "So I'm guessing that wherever they're taking us, they don't want pregnant girls. Just young and healthy."
Oh God. I swallow hard, fighting the urge to puke. There's really no place to do it, though I'm starting to suspect I know why the place smells like sewage. Liz's scent isn't exactly pleasant. "How . . . long you been heeere?"
"Me?" she asks. "Two weeks. Kira's been here the longest that we know of. She's the one with the earpiece."
I look around, but I don't see an earpiece on anyone in particular.
"It's a translator," Liz explains. "You'll see soon enough. I'm throwing too much at you at once, aren't I? Okay, let's try this again. See those tubes?" She points at the far wall, at the things that reminded me of oversized lockers. "Kira saw what was...
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