Thursday, February 22, 2018

Just A Little Taste of THE ZERO-G CLUB

With the official release rapidly approaching (March 1), I wanted to offer you a sampler to entice you. But first, here are what several Beta readers had to say....

What Readers Had to Say:

“One Hot Space Saga.” - Victor Alvarado

“Space travel better be this much fun.” - Shoreena Thompson

“Please, please, get book two written soooooon.” - Cammie Bremmer

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CHAPTER ONE:

There are only so many places to get laid on a spaceship, and only so little time to do it. For me, Emilee Stanton, just your basic fem-tech in the engineering bay of the USX Gallant, a galaxy-class warship, my transfer here was a blessing; after all, a ship filled with raw, often sweaty masculinity, just oozing sex is every fem-tech’s dream job. At least I think it is. 
The problem for me is that I joined for one reason only: I wanted membership in an exclusive club, one boasting less than twenty members due to the rigors of gaining admittance. The Zero-G Club is one of a kind, way more sophisticated than the ancient mile-high club. There is only one requirement: you have to have sex on the bridge of the ship, preferably in the captain’s chair, and you need a witness.  
You have to understand that the challenge is both in gaining entry to the bridge, and, if no one is looking, parking your soft tush in the seat. The problem, however, is that spaceship bridges are occupied 24/7. Once the primary crew is off for the night, the alternative crew takes over. How do you get laid in the captain’s chair when someone else’s ass is always in it?
And then there is the other problem I have: the dreamy First Officer, Jeremy Faulkner, tall, well-built, with a thick mane of near-black hair, dimpled chin and those piercingly hot, blue-eyes. Yeah, just a guy, right? Hell no. Every part of me wanted to have him to myself, shirtless, to start with, his strong chest and thick man hair to rub against. A girl can dream, right? It’s not like an officer would take an interest in a fem-tech, anyway. Female technicians are a step above their male counterparts, a few steps above sanitation engineers. How low can you go? But it was an easy way aboard a spaceship; a short exam, a few flirty answers to the old lech running the assignment pool, and here I am. Week four.
Fem-techs strip down the parts from the zip fighters, degrease, refuel, spruce up the cockpit and wipe down the joystick. We run diagnostics, ensure that no error codes are left. You can’t have the flyboys dying because I happen to feel horny and not focused on my job. It’s a job. It pays. My crew chief’s a decent guy, even though he keeps suggesting I come by his quarters. You get a lot of that here in testosterone land. But then, this is  the front line of defense when the fighting starts. We need every fighter we can get. 
And there he is, looking right at me. Shit!
“Hey Candy,” Master-Chief Gonzalez yelled out. “Stop your daydreaming. Again!”
“Master-Chief,” I hollered back. “Why can’t you get my name right? My name’s not Candy.”
Master-Chief broke into a wicked grin, his large white teeth biting on a toothpick. “You may not be Candy,” he shouted back, “but you are soooo sweet and tasty!”
“You wish, Master-Chief.”
“Indeed I do,” he countered. “Now get your ass back to work.”
He turned and strode off and I watched his solid frame stiffly march toward the mess hall. He wasn’t bad looking. He’d probably be good for a quick bang; however I knew that letting him get his way would change the dynamics of work. There’s something to be said for wanting something you cannot have. It makes you try harder. If I slept with him, I’d just wind up being an irritant, one that could be fired for whatever reason fancied him. Maybe one day, I told myself. But not today. Certainly not until I had found a way to gain my membership. ZGC, here I come, I thought.
The engineering bay of the Gallant is the size of four football fields. Lifters attach to the fighters and hoist them up for storage, effectively clearing the lower area for maintenance work. At the top where they are secured, service ramps allowing the pilots to get in, pre-flight checks and mission reports while the lifters carry the fighter to the launch bay tubes. With ten tubes on each side of the bay, launching is rapid, noisy and often dangerous. 
On my first day, before getting my work assignment, I was able to watch the fighters get ready for a training raid. The lifters moved fast, placing the fighters into the top of the launch tubes, as the fighter engines revved up. Once in the tube, catapults launched the crafts down the short run and out into space. Within a few minutes the entire squadron is out and engaged. 
The return is less dramatic. Fighters line up and enter one of two landing bays, taxi to a hold point where the lifters latch on and bring them up to the hanger storage area. 
Major Gregory Chaunce, or Greggy as I liked to call him, was there on my first day,  and I was on the upper gangway watching him jump out the craft and take off his helmet. He was an Australian, wavy, surfer blond-hair, good tan across solid muscles. He smiled and winked at me. Perfect teeth. There was something to be said for straight, white teeth.
“G’day love,” he said, and he was off, looking back once before ducking into the debrief room. In the mess later, he bought me a beer, started asking a lot of questions, then asked if I wanted to sit in the cockpit of his fighter.
“Is that allowed?” I asked foolishly. I felt like a schoolgirl out with a first crush, but it was more than that; I could feel I was getting wet and all I wanted was to get him naked. But men like their mating moves, their posturing, back and forth, getting closer, touching, staring hard into your eyes looking for the green light. Silly man didn’t know it had been green all along. We moved to the upper hanger and to his fighter.
He opened the canopy, gestured for me to climb in. 
“You sure?”
“It’s all good, love,” he said. “It’s a shame it only fits one...”
“Or what?” I teased. 
“Just don’t press any buttons. I’d hate to watch you shooting out the tube,” he said.
I laughed. “That’s your department.”
“Damn straight,” he said. “You wanna see something cool?”
“Okay,” I said happily. 
“I know this place where you get a fantastic view of the stars, and the length of the ship. Wanna see?”
I laughed. His accent pronounced the word stahs. “Sure.” I let him pull me up out of the cockpit and into his arms. He felt warm, his arms enveloping me. 
“Hmmm, you smell good,” he said. 
I laughed shyly. 
“What?”
“I smell like grease and disinfectant,” I said.
He shrugged. “Reckon I like the smell of grease and disinfectant, then. He grabbed my hand and started off. “C’mon.”
We climbed the ladder to the next level up, then, checking that no one was following, he pulled me into what looked like a janitorial closet. Seriously, I thought? But that wasn’t it. Another door and then down a hallway before he ducked into a small, unmarked room. It was dark, void of any furnishings, and yet ahead was a large port window where we stopped. He pointed at it.
“Best view on the ship, and if you look right, you can see her length. We’re on an outcropping. Gunners use it to target incoming. I love this spot.”
The view was spectacular. We were well past Saturn on our way to the outer rim, but the rings were still visible, glistening like dew against the planet itself. “Breathtaking,” I said, now focused on the view instead of the man. Lucky for me, he wasn’t.
He pulled me closer. “Worth it?”
I nodded, eyes fixed now on his.
He leaned in for a kiss, our lips hot, pressing, tongues groping. His hands were moving, down my back and into my pants, cupping each butt cheek. He groaned, moved them again, up to my neck which he cupped gently with one large hand, pulling my body into an arch, his other hand slipping up to cup one of my breasts. Well-practiced moves, I told myself.
“I want you,” he breathed, still kissing me.
“You got me,” I whispered in his ear.  


I hope you enjoyed this little taste. I had to stop here because it gets quite hot. You see, Chapter One will bring you to a boil. Unlike other romance/erotica books, I don’t make you wait through the whole thing. 
The Zero-G Club: Lust & Honor is a good story that will hook you wanting more. I am working on Book 2 right now, so you won’t have too long to wait.

Right now you can head over to Amazon Kindle and pre-order TZC:Lust & Honor for only 99 cents. That price will change once the book releases, so hurry and get it now.  If you need a different format (PDF, or ePub) let me know and I will send you the link to get it directly from me.

BUY THE ZERO-G CLUB: Lust & Honor today >  http://amzn.to/2EifIUf

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Love,

Ashley Adams
❤️💋🚀 

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