It’s release day for I Spy an Alien (Book 2 in the Pax Galactica series).

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BF9BQNV9/

The couple that spies together, survives together!

As intrepid human journalist Elif Moora stalks the levels and voids of Artha Station, camera drones on alert, interview subjects reveal the inner workings of Universal Society and offer terrifying hints regarding the existence of a mysterious mastermind, one intent on destroying humanity.

Kirk Tormod, pict rogue and undercover USIA agent, has spent the past three years in pursuit of the mastermind. When Elif crashes Kirk’s investigation, damage control means recruiting her as his girlfriend. But what could one lone, human woman bring to the party?

Secrets of her own.

I Spy an Alien is a cozy, space opera thriller.

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Excerpt

Never meet your heroes.

As I ducked a wildly flung trisave, I reflected on how much easier my life would be if I heeded good advice. Not to mention how much longer my life would be. Currently, it was flashing before my eyes.

Died because she was too dumb to stay home.

Yeah, Dad would definitely engrave that on my tombstone.

Except it wouldn’t be a tombstone. If the trisave exploded near me, there’d be no body to bury.

I clicked my fingers. “Cenotaph.” That was the memorial marker you used when the corpse was missing. Wasn’t it?

The first blade from the spinning trisave lodged in the wall behind the reception desk, vibrating from the force of its expulsion. The second stage of the trisave was due to launch.

Would the poison dart go after the nearest target or was the target preselected?

I’d recently interviewed a tebu self-defense instructor who’d given me a rundown on Universal Society’s worst weapons—in between pitying me for being a squishy, bipedal human. Tebu are somewhat similar to human-sized ants. They’re tough.

The trisave had stuck in my mind for being particularly devilish. Intellectually, I’d been curious. I’d never imagined that the information provided would be of such vital personal interest.

I ducked.

A blue hand sweeping over my head caught the trisave, and vanished.

“My—”

The blue hand—and the body it was attached to—reappeared, absent the trisave.

“…hero.” I smiled up at the six foot tall, blue-skinned man standing over me.

“Get behind the desk.”

My smile died. Of its own accord, my head twisted to belatedly focus on the other two people in the room, one of whom had to be the source of the flung trisave.

Two sedu waved their tentacles menacingly at us.

Or at my hero.

They didn’t know me. Had the trisave exploded, my death, from their actions, wouldn’t have been personal.

Such are the hazards faced by an intrepid journalist on an alien mega-station.

I put my head down and combat-crawled behind the desk.