by Cara Bristol
My chest swelled with hopeful possibilities. To have Anthony as our kit would be a greater joy than I could imagine. We would be a family, and Anthony would have a safe home with parents who cared about him. But I’d meant it when I told her I only needed her. “Are you sure?” I said. “You don’t have to do this because you think it will make me happy. I love you. You are the sum total of everything.”
Her eyes glowed as she leaned over to kiss me. “That makes me want to bring Anthony into our family even more.”
“Obah!” I said.
“We can probably get approved to foster him so he can come live with us while we’re going through the adoption process.”
“You think of everything,” I said.
“Because I am your mate.”
Epilogue
Holly
Six months later
“Are you still feeling sick, Mom?” Anthony asked.
As was typical lately, the morning began with queasiness. As we’d driven to the courthouse, I’d had to pull off the road so I could ralph.
“I’m fine, sweetie. Much better now,” I fibbed and hugged him. Nothing could be allowed to dull the shine of this momentous day—the adoption finalization hearing.
Seated on my other side in the courtroom, Braxx squeezed my hand.
“I’m okay,” I mouthed. I could see the worry in his eyes, but I’d just picked up a stomach virus somewhere. Nobody else around me had gotten it, so I assumed I wasn’t contagious.
A little nausea didn’t matter. Anthony’s adoption was what counted. As I’d suspected, we’d had to jump through some hoops. Reams of paperwork had to be completed. I swear a tree died every time a child found a home. They’d investigated our backgrounds, and we’d had home visits. I had been a little nervous about the former because I knew Addison would be contacted, and there was no guessing what the asshat would say. Apparently, though, he’d been too preoccupied by his divorce from Kaydee to fling any of his vitriolic mud in my direction. Turned out, sweet Kaydee had a doting lawyer uncle who put the shark in attorney. Or maybe glowing character references from Tyra, Mrs. Jennetta, the director of Friend 2 Family, Barb, Dixie, Slade the cook, and several other people had counteracted whatever negatives Addison had said.
The hearing was supposed to be a formality. The final process would go off without a hitch, we’d been assured by our attorney.
But, wouldn’t you know just when things were going so well for us, I’d pick up a bug. Fatigue and nausea had been dogging me for weeks. Every time I’d gone to the doctor, I’d gotten bad news, so I wasn’t keen on going, but, at Braxx’s insistence, I went. Dr. Lipscombe drew blood for tests, but I hadn’t received the results yet.
The courtroom filled with other families-to-be, adoptive parents, and children, some smiling happily, others looking anxious. One by one, they were called and questioned by the judge. Finally, our turn came.
The three of us filed up to the front and took our seats. I pressed a hand to my churning stomach. Bug or no bug, nervousness contributed to my queasiness. What if the hearing didn’t go as anticipated? What if a glitch occurred? What if Addison had told the social worker I’d make a terrible mother and no way in hell should I ever be allowed to have a child? What if the court discriminated against Dakonians? What if they disallowed an alien parenting a human? The social worker and our attorney had assured us that wasn’t the case, but there was always that doubt.
I couldn’t stand Anthony being disappointed and hurt again. He’d been through too much already. He needed stability. He needed parents. He needed us.
Although he’d lived with us only for three months, it felt like he’d been with us forever. He was our child. I couldn’t have loved him more if I had given birth to him. I couldn’t imagine a day without him any more than I could imagine a day without Braxx. Losing either one of them would devastate me.
Our attorney introduced our case, and then the judge started in. “This might sound like a silly question, but it’s one that needs to be asked. “Do you both wish to proceed with the adoption?”
“Yes!” Braxx and I both spoke at once.
“You understand that in finalizing this adoption, in the eyes of the law, it will be as if Anthony were born to you?”
“It already feels like that,” I said.
“Can you tell me in your own words why you wish to adopt this child?”
“Because Anthony is the child of our hearts,” I said. “He wasn’t born to us, but he is a part of our family, a part of us.” I smiled at Anthony and then met my mate’s gaze.
“I believe we were always meant to be together,” Braxx said. “The Fates not only sent me a mate, they sent me a child, too.”
The judge peered at Anthony. “Young man, do you wish to proceed with this adoption?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Why do you wish to be adopted by Ms. Hansen and Mr. Braxx?”
“Because they’re my mom and dad. Because they love me, and I love them.” Anthony glanced between me and Braxx and beamed.
The judge continued in the same vein, asking if we understood the responsibility of parenthood and questioning how we intended to provide a home for him. All of that had been covered in our paperwork, but we had to verbally restate it.
And then the judge uttered the only words that mattered. “After hearing from all the parties, I find the adoption is in the child’s best interests and order the adoption. You are now parents and child and are afforded all the rights, duties, and responsibilities of the parent-child relationship.”
She focused a twinkling gaze at us and broke into a smile. “Congratulations. Anthony is yours forever.”
“Obah!” Braxx shouted.
“Obah!” Anthony yelled.
My stomach still roiled, but my heart swelled with joy. I could not imagine a happier moment. Braxx and I grabbed Anthony in a big hug. Family hugs were some of the best kind, I’d discovered. We took our first official family photo in front of the judge’s desk, and then we left the courtroom so the next group could be awarded their happiness.
I gripped Anthony’s right hand, Braxx held his left as we walked out to my car. They walked; I floated.
“This calls for some ice cream,” my mate said.
“Yes!” Anthony shouted.
“At the very least,” I agreed, although the idea of eating anything caused my stomach to rebel.
As I unlocked the car with my fob, my phone began to vibrate in my jacket pocket. I’d switched off the volume when we’d entered the courtroom. “Hold on. I got a call. It’s probably Barb and Kord wanting the good news.” They would have attended the hearing but had already booked a vacation to the Caribbean when we’d gotten a court date.
I released Anthony’s hand, gave him a hug, and pulled out my cell. The caller’s number flashed on the screen. Adrenalin spiked. “It’s the doctor.” My gaze shot to Braxx.
Please don’t let it be bad news. “This is Holly,” I answered.
“This is Dr. Lipscombe.”
My knuckles whitened on the phone. I swallowed back bile stuck in my throat. Not bad news. Not now. Please, not now. “Did you get the results? What’s the verdict?”
“Are you sitting down?”
I sagged against the car door. “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”
“No. I hope you’ll think it’s great news. Holly, you’re pregnant.”
“What?” I shouted. “What did you say?”
“You’re pregnant. About two and a half months, I’d say.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m pregnant?” I repeated, my head reeling.
“You’re with kit?” Braxx’s face lit up.
“How is this possible?” I asked the doctor.
“Honestly, I have no idea. But when you come for your prenatal appointment, we’ll do an ultrasound. Maybe that will yield some answers, but we’ll have to wa
it on other tests to figure it out until after your baby is born.”
Until after your baby is born. Those were magical words I thought I’d never hear.
I pressed a hand to my abdomen. A baby. Our family was growing. I wrapped my arm around Anthony’s shoulders and drew him close. Dr. Lipscombe rattled on about dietary dos and don’ts for women in my condition then scheduling came on the phone and set up a follow-up appointment.
“You’re going to have a brother or sister!” I said to Anthony as soon as I hung up. My smile turned to laughter, and I grabbed him in a hug to ensure he never doubted he was an integral part of our family. Braxx wrapped his arms around both of us, and there in the parking lot, with people staring, we laughed and engaged in one of our group hugs.
I’d gone from not being able to have any children to getting two in the same day.
“They’re going to do an ultrasound on my next visit to try to determine how I was able to get pregnant,” I said when we separated.
“I’ll bet it was Alar,” Braxx said.
“Alar what?”
“He’s the alien who fixed my broken arm,” Anthony said.
Braxx nodded. “You met him—touched him—at the Stellar Dust Bin that one time. The one with the transparent skin?”
Invisi-man? The social anthropologist who’d been sent to Earth for interfering—That ought to fix it, he’d said. I remembered a zing of energy when I’d shaken his hand. The way the air had shimmered like a mirage. “He did this?”
“He has the healing touch.”
Wherever you are, Alar, thank you!
Braxx grabbed me and kissed me. I wound my arms around his neck and poured out my love and happiness. “Who’s ready for ice cream?” he said, when he set me on my feet.
“Two scoops!” Anthony said.
“With whipped cream,” Braxx added.
“And a cherry on top,” I said.
* * * *
Thank you for reading Braxx: Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides. I hope you enjoyed the story and will leave a brief review to help spread the word. All Dakonian books are standalone reads, but the books are linked, and you’ll see characters appear and reappear throughout the series. Barb Quintain, Holly’s friend, was the heroine of Kord, book 5. Moxie Maguire, mentioned briefly, had the spotlight in Sixx, book 4. If you take a look at Other Titles by Cara Bristol at the end of this book, you’ll find a complete list of Dakonian books written thus far. More are planned!
The Dakonian series is a spinoff from my Alien Mate books. In that series, Earth women go to planet Dakon as mail-order brides. In the Dakonian series, the men come to Earth.
Read on for an excerpt from Alien Mate, the first book of the series that started it all….
* * * *
Alien Mate
Chapter One
Starr
Truth would prevail. It had to. It had to. It had to.
The space over the empty juror box shimmered, and then a real-time hologram of the jurors materialized. I kept my face expressionless as advised by counsel and clenched my hands in my lap. The jurors avoided my eyes, and hope drained out, leaving me sick inside. My attorney, Maridelle, covered my hand and squeezed.
“Have you reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
“We have, your honor,” the foreman replied.
“What say you?”
“We, the members of the jury, find the defendant, Starr Elizabeth Conner, guilty of second-degree murder.”
My heart seized in my chest. I wasn’t aware of leaping to my feet, but Maridelle caught my arm. “I didn’t do it! I’m innocent,” I cried. My gaze shot to the prosecution table where People’s Attorney Gil Aaronson, a crony of the Carmichael family—although I couldn’t prove it—stowed his CompuBrief in its case. He didn’t look at me, either, but a smug smile rested on his face.
Electrocuffs in hand, a bailiff headed toward me.
“We’ll appeal, don’t worry. We’ll get the verdict overturned,” Maridelle whispered in my ear as the bailiff fastened the restraints. She’d believed me, but no one else had—how could that bode well for the future? If she hadn’t been able to convince my peers of my innocence the first time around, what chance would she have on appeal? The Carmichaels controlled too much. They didn’t hold political office themselves. They owned the people who did.
“Sentencing is set for one week.” The judge cracked his gavel, and his holographic image wavered and then vaporized. A very solid bailiff hustled me to my cell.
* * * *
A statuesque woman plopped down next to me in the lounge. Her skin reminded me of rich, creamy milk chocolate, the kind only the wealthy could afford. Everyone else bought the synth stuff and pretended it was good. “I’m Andrea Simmons,” she said. “Cyber hacking.” We introduced ourselves on the SS Australia by name and crime.
“Starr Conner…second-degree murder.” Maridelle had cautioned not to discuss my case pending the appeal. Big ships have big ears and all that. So, I’d tried to avoid my fellow passengers, keeping to my cabin, venturing to the mess hall when it would be deserted. Eventually, loneliness—or maybe acceptance of my fate—nudged me out of isolation. My conviction had less chance of reversal than I’d had for acquittal the first time around. My presence on the ship demonstrated how well the trial had gone.
Just in case the appeal was successful, I shifted the conversation back to Andrea. “You were convicted of hacking?”
“Yes. Cyber robbery, actually. I was the best in the New Americas!” Her boast confirmed her guilt. She sighed. “I hear Dakon is quite primitive. No computer technology to speak of.”
“How did you get caught?”
“Greed. I returned to a site I’d previously hacked, and they’d installed a viral tracker. Busted!” Her eyes narrowed. “Who’d you kill?”
“Nobody. I’m innocent.” I’d continue to state that until the end of my days.
She barked out a husky laugh. “We all are. Haven’t you heard? There are no guilty people on the SS Australia.”
“She killed Jaxon Carmichael.” A brunette with a head of bouncy curls piped up with the identity of the “victim” I’d been convicted of bludgeoning to death.
Andrea whistled and eyed me with new respect. “Honey, you roll with the big boys, don’t you?”
The brunette shook her head. “How could you not recognize her from the pay-for-view gov-vids of her trial on the ’net? She’s a celebrity.”
Andrea sniffed. “As a general rule, I avoid the government sites.”
“Too risky?” I asked.
“No money there. Terra One World is damn near bankrupt. Why do you think we’re on this ship? First, they save money by not having to house us in prison, and second, they make money from the illuvian minerals the Dakonians are paying for us. It’s a double dip.”
“They sold us into slavery.” I stared at my hands. Carmichael “justice” had been swift. While others languished in prison for years awaiting a court date, I’d been tried, convicted, and sentenced in a mere two months. Rocket fast—a contrast to the appeals process which would be evolutionary slow. Sitting in prison waiting for an uncertain outcome didn’t appeal, but was this better?
“More like presented us with an offer we couldn’t refuse.” Andrea shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“We could have finished our sentences. Instead we opted for immediate freedom via one-way shuttle to Dakon.”
“You had a choice?” I glanced between Andrea and the other woman.
“The application form spelled it out.” The brunette nodded. “The selection process was very competitive. Ninety percent of the women who applied didn’t get accepted.”
“Application form? I didn’t fill out any application form.”
Andrea’s gaze narrowed. “You didn’t complete a profile? Health history, activity levels, physical description…”
“No.” I pressed my lips together. Carmic
hael justice again, which was to say, no justice. They were sending me as far away as they could get me.
“That’s odd.” Andrea squinted.
Maybe becoming an alien’s companion wasn’t such a terrible fate. We could be friends with very limited benefits. Billions of miles between me and the Carmichaels couldn’t hurt, and it beat spending my life in prison. If the Carmichaels could have me wrongfully convicted, they could block my appeal.
But how would I keep track of the status? Since the planet wasn’t connected to the ’net, how would Maridelle update me?
“Well, we’re all here now. It’s kind of like being a ’net-order bride,” the brunette said cheerfully. “By the way, I’m Tessa Chartreuse. I ran an escort service for an elite clientele.”
“So why are you here? Prostitution isn’t illegal.” It had been decriminalized a long time ago.
“No, but money laundering is.” She shrugged.
Andrea laughed. “She’s an entrepreneur.”
I took a deep breath. “Any idea what the aliens look like?” I’d kept to myself, but I’d heard rumors our intended “mates” were scaly blue with long tails. Only recently had Terra One World made contact with Dakon. I’d been told the aliens “looked like us,” but I had little confidence in my government to tell the truth.
“I did a little ’net research before they transported me to the shuttle,” Andrea explained. “They are humanoid, genetically compatible with us, but they’re taller, much more muscular, and bigger.” She held her hands about a meter apart.
“Are you talking about their penises or their bodies in general?” Tessa asked.
Shit, I hoped Andrea was referring to their bodies. I eyed the span between her palms.
Andrea rolled her eyes. “Their bodies in general. I did not research their junk.”
“It would be proportionate, though, wouldn’t you think?” Tessa persisted. You could take the girl out of the escort business, but you couldn’t take the escort business out of the girl.
