CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (feel good novels txt) 📗
- Author: J. Posthumus
Book online «CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (feel good novels txt) 📗». Author J. Posthumus
She was still smiling when she stood on her tiptoes to meet his lips for another kiss—and just before she closed her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a single feather floating down beside them.
Best. Weekend. Ever.
The End
About the Author
Love super-steamy shifter romances? Preorder Big Cat Heat and Dragon’s Flame, the first two full-length novels in the Shifters United series of standalone paranormal romances.
For more unusual shifter couples, check out the Shifter Shield series, starting with Under Her Skin.
And if you like shifter aliens, you’ll love Star Mate Matched, the first book in the Interstellar Shifters series!
USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and New York Times bestselling author Margo Bond Collins is a former college English professor who, tired of explaining the difference between “hanged” and “hung,” turned to writing romance novels instead. (Sometimes her heroines kiss the monsters—other times, her heroines kill them.)
You can learn more about her books at www.MargoBondCollins.net
Want to hang out with the author, win book prizes, see the cool covers first, and support Margo’s books on social media? Join The Vampirarchy, Margo’s street team on Facebook!
Motherclucker A Space Traipse: Hold My Beer Story
Karina Fabian
Motherclucker Karina Fabian
Captain’s Log, Intergalactic Date 677202.81
We’re doing a standard survey of Peridion Axel V, a terrible name, but if the planet turns out to be good for colonization, I’m sure they’ll come up with something better. It looked like a routine mission, so, of course, an unexpected ion storm hit the system just as some unknown aliens showed up to attack my ship. Long story short, we are stuck here until First Officer Smythe and my crew handle the situation and pick us up. Good thing I brought my fishing pole.
Peridion Axel V, which really did have a terrible name, was a typical M class planet with abundant vegetation and a variety of lower life forms. So far, none of the life forms had shown any aggressive tendencies, so the away team of the HMB Impulsive had decided to set up a campfire outside the shuttle. Seven lovely trout-like fish roasted over the merry flames. Captain Jebediah Tiberius was rather proud of his catch, especially since he hadn’t needed a phaser or dynamite.
In the shuttle, their botanist, Lieutenant Misha Rosien, was putting away the last of the samples she’d gathered. Lieutenant Ellie Doall, his ops officer, was a holler away, taking readings of the emerging nighttime life forms. She was accompanied by his security chief, Lieutenant Enigo Guiermo Ricardo Montoya Guiterrez LaFuentes. Really, the both of them would have been more useful had they stayed on the ship, but what’s an away team without some main characters—er, experienced officers?
Security Minion LeRoy Jenkins stood just on the edge of the light, his attention split between watching his tricorder readings and the shadows of the forest. Jeb had told him to relax, but no way would he be less than diligent with the captain’s safety in his hands, and his boss just within stunning range. Having grown up on the UGS Hood, Lt. LaFuentes had no problems using a phaser as a discipline device. But the Impulsive’s redshirts had the highest survival rate in the fleet, and Jeb never argued with results.
Speaking of results… Jeb peeled the foil away from the fish and poked it with a fork. If it helps, the reader is free to imagine a mylar sheeting and space fork. Regardless, the meat was flakey and smelled amazing. Perfect.
“Dinner!” he shouted, making his security minion jump.
“Sir!” he hissed, “what are you doing? You could be announcing our location.”
Jeb raised a brow. “Like the campfire and the biggas shuttle aren’t doing that already?”
The biggas-class shuttle, the HMB Giterdone, rested amid debris of broken evergreens and shattered stones. They hadn’t had the smoothest landing.
“I’m glad we took the largest shuttle,” Lt. Rosien said as she descended the ramp carrying camping plates and silverware. Jeb had programmed the replicators to Boy Scout Pattern 1998 for the trip. “We’ve found so many wonderful samples so far, I could fill it completely.”
She handed him a dish set, then passed one to LeRoy and to the lieutenants who had returned as well. They all sat down, and Jeb gently placed a steaming fish on each plate.
Misha continued, “It certainly helped when that ion storm hit, and we had to make an emergency landing. That and your fancy flying, sir.”
Jeb nodded to acknowledge the compliment, but said, “Still, that thruster took a hard hit when we smacked into that weird rock formation. Tomorrow, Enigo, you and I will fix that up while the ladies continue the survey with Minion Jenkins.”
LeRoy grimaced. “Is that a good idea, sir? Splitting the party, I mean?”
Enigo, who poked at his fish with the suspicion of anyone raised on replicated food, set aside his plate and leaned toward his subordinate intently. “What’s up with you? You having a sixth sense?”
“No, sir,” LeRoy said. He spoke with complete honesty. HuFleet security personnel were trained to note and report anything suspicious—and, when in doubt, stun it for good measure. He paused, and his hand unconsciously fingered the bones in his pocket. “No. It’s just the forest at night and that box canyon we saw earlier brought up memories.”
Enigo grunted. “The mission on Pullet VI.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ellie, who was nibbling at her trout with her usual delicate efficiency, asked, “Was that the mission with the eight-foot chickens? Like the ones you went after on Rest Stop?”
Rest Stop, for those who have not been following Space Traipse: Hold My Beer, is a funzone planet where your imagined fantasies can come true. That resulted in quite a bit of chaos when the crew of the Impulsive landed on the planet,
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