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Authors: Kat Cantrell

Mindlink

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Mindlink
By Kat Cantrell

Determined to revitalize her imploding career, blacklisted
movie star Ashley V takes on her biggest role yet: posing as one of ten
scientists invited by aliens to a universal summit. But when the aliens seize,
strip and implant the entire delegation to extract their knowledge, she is
quickly found out and sent to a cell to await recycling.

The alien research director designated
ZXQ-One
devised a plan to let the humans volunteer their best and
brightest in a gamble to solve his people’s energy crisis. But he fails to find
anything useful and winds up imprisoned alongside the fiery human woman who
refuses to give up, and who insists on calling him Sam.

After an accidental link between their implants lets them
share their thoughts, they find themselves drawn to each other. Sam will have to
trust in her human compassion and forgiveness for his role in her capture, and
Ashley will have to trust him with her deepest secrets if they are to have any
chance at survival…

105,000 words

Dear Reader,

April is when the romance conference season really starts to
get busy for me. Every spring, I attend the
RT
Book
Reviews
convention, a gathering of about 500
authors, readers and publishing professionals who come together to celebrate
their love of both romance and genre fiction. Each year, I come away from that
conference, and the many others I attend that are focused on the love of books
(like the Lori Foster Reader Get Together in Ohio), with a renewed enthusiasm
for diving back into my to-be-read pile. As well as a long list of authors and
books to add to that to-be-read pile! But because it’s a busy travel time of
year for me, that also means more time on the plane and in airports for
reading.

Maybe you’re like me—traveling to conferences and in need of
some plane reading. Or maybe you just need one more book to add to your
to-be-read pile. Possibly you’ve got a newborn baby who keeps you up at night
and gets you up early in the morning, and you need something you can read on the
ereader in one hand while the baby is in the other. Or perhaps you’re just in
search of a good book. You’re in luck; our April books can fill all those
needs!

The first book in our newest genre addition, New Adult,
releases this month. If you love contemporary romance, sports romance, a
(mostly) Jewish, spunky heroine and a hero who will make your heart melt, you’ll
want to read
Rush
Me
by debut author Allison Parr.

This month, I’m pleased to introduce the first book in a
six-book series written by four authors. Ginny Glass, Christina Thacher, Emily
Cale and Maggie Wells kick off a series of contemporary romance short story
collections with
Love
Letters
Volume
1: Obeying
Desire
. Each volume will center around a different
seriously sexy theme. I’ll bet you can’t guess what the theme of the first
volume is, with a title like
Obeying
Desire
! Look for the second volume,
Love
Letters
Volume
2: Duty
to
Please
, releasing in May 2013.

Fans of contemporary romance will enjoy
Saved
by
the
Bride
, the first book in a new trilogy by RITA®
Award-winning author Fiona Lowe. Who knew that being a klutz and combining it
with a distrust of wedding bouquets could lead to a black eye?

Joining Fiona and Allison in the contemporary romance
category is Kate Davies, with
Cutest
Couple
, book two in Kate’s high-school reunion
trilogy, Girls Most Likely to… Look for the conclusion of the trilogy,
Life
of
the
Party
, in May 2013.

Co-authors Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle deliver
another scorching Puma Nights story with
Falke’s
Renegade
, while Jodie Griffin joins them in heating
up your ereader with her third erotic BDSM Bondage & Breakfast book,
Forbidden
Fires
.

On the paranormal and science fiction front, we have a number
of titles for fans. Veteran author Kate Pearce begins a new series with
Soul
Sucker
, in which
Moonlighting
meets
The
X
-
Files
in San Francisco
Bay and two worlds collide. Kat Cantrell, winner of Harlequin’s 2011 So You
Think You Can Write contest, joins Carina Press with her first science fiction
romance,
Mindlink
, while returning author Eleri
Stone gives us another jaguar shifter in
Lost
City
Shifters: Rebellion
,
book three in this compelling series.

Clockwork
Mafia
by Seleste deLaney brings us back to the
Western steampunk world of
Badlands
. Inventor
Henrietta Mason is retiring from airships and adventuring to return home to
Philadelphia. Determined to erase all trails leading to her late father’s
duplicity, she dismantles his lab and removes all records of the Badlands gold.
And last but certainly not least in the paranormal category,
Night
of
the
Dark
Horse
by Janni Nell continues the adventures of
Allegra Fairweather, paranormal investigator.

This month, Bronwyn Stuart follows up her fantastic debut
historical romance,
Scandal’s
Mistress
, with her unique regency romance,
Behind
the
Courtesan
, featuring—you guessed it—a courtesan
heroine.

On the non-romance side, Jean Harrington brings us the third
Murders by Design cozy mystery installment,
Killer
Kitchens
.

And joining Carina Press with an epic fantasy trilogy, Angela
Highland tells the story of a half-elven healer with no control over her magic.
Faanshi has always been a pawn of the powerful, but after healing two mysterious
and very different men, she faces a choice that may decide the fate of a whole
kingdom. If you love fantasy, pick up
Valor
of
the
Healer
, book one in the Rebels of Adalonia
trilogy.

As you can see, April is full of books to distract you
wherever you are, whatever you’re supposed to be doing, and even if you have a
baby in your arms. I hope you enjoy these titles as much as we’ve enjoyed
working on them.

We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your
thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
.
You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter
stream and Facebook fan page.

Happy reading!

~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press

www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress

Dedication

To my husband. My favorite times are when we sit outside under
the stars. You remind me the universe was created by a forever-present God, and
that it’s a magnificent, magical, wonderful place. Thank you for exploring it
with me all these years—and for all your sacrifices so I could become an
author.

Acknowledgements

Cynthia Justlin… What can I possibly say that would encompass
all that you mean to me? I could never have done this without your pom-poms,
your encouragement and your clarity. My world is so much brighter with you in
it.

Thank you, Morgan Scott Matthews, for reading an early version
of this novel and for your moral support via text message moments before I
bumbled through my first agent pitch. You’ve been a huge positive in my life and
I’m so glad we’re friends.

Mallory Braus, you rock! Thank you so much for believing in
Ashley and Sam and sticking with me through all the revisions. I can’t watch an
episode of
Ancient
Aliens
without thinking of you and your sheer
awesomeness.

Thanks Carina for publishing this wacky, nontraditional
futuristic romance.

Thank you Romance Divas for changing the course of my life.
When I became a member, I had no clue how enriched I’d become. I was just
looking for information about the vast world of writing romance. Instead, I
found friendship, commiseration, advice, laughs and support. Many more thanks
for hosting the pitch session where I hooked up with Mallory.

Thank you, Jasmine Rowe, for your valuable insight and spot-on
critiques.

Finally, thank you readers for coming along
on
this ride! You make it all worthwhile.

Chapter One

Ashley V stepped off the plane at Cape Canaveral a
transformed woman. She’d started the flight from Stockholm as a world-famous
actress and ended the flight as a world-class scientist.

Dr. Astrid Jonsson came complete with invented history, an
engineered internet presence and papers credited to her name, full of borrowed
theories. Fooling aliens into believing she was one of the experts they’d
requested on their list should be a walk in the park.

Six months ago, humans had learned they were not alone when
aliens made first contact with an invitation to participate in a groundbreaking
summit between the two species. The entire world looked to ten scientists,
hand-selected by a United Nations sanctioned counsel, to bring home answers to
universal questions long pondered by humankind.

As Dr. Jonsson, Ashley intended to represent her planet to the
absolute best of her abilities.

And get her acting career back on track.

Even she was impressed with her new persona, though it had
taken the better part of three months and forty-seven gallons of motivational
martinis to cram the contents of a PhD’s brain into her own. It was totally
worth it. Nothing made her happier than disappearing into a role, and it had
been forever since she’d had the opportunity.

The third arrest had clinched her status—unemployable. No one
in Hollywood seemed impressed by her efforts to clean up her act. Only something
bold would get everyone’s attention.

Florida humidity wilted Ashley’s tidy bun within seconds of
exiting the plane, heightening the frump factor. Perfect. Nothing like natural
character enhancement to go along with excruciating preparation.

A wig concealed the famous red hair synonymous with Ashley V,
and she’d hidden her often-photographed green eyes behind mud-colored contacts.
The external disguise was a necessary part of the role, but the internal
transformation sold it. She wasn’t Ashley V and wouldn’t be for six weeks.

The shuttle bus passed the gargantuan gray building housing the
guts of the defunct U.S. space program. The driver pulled around back to park by
a smaller building behind it. Helicopters thwacked overhead in an aerial media
circus, stirring up dust as they zoomed in to capture one of the ten scientists
selected for the first universal consortium. As the driver helped her out of the
bus, she automatically stopped and turned to her best side.

Cameras, she understood.

A frazzled woman in an orange tent dress approached and stuck
out her hand for Ashley to shake. “Dr. Jonsson, thank you for your prompt
arrival.”

Ashley straightened her dowdy, off-the-rack skirt before taking
the woman’s hand. Three months of prep was about to pay off. Her career, maybe
her entire future in Hollywood, hinged on a faultless performance. David Renner
had promised her the lead in
Vertigo
Society
, a role every actress in L.A. would kill
for, and one she’d never be offered any other way.

All she had to do was be a scientist, return home from the
alien planet to reveal how well she’d played the role and soak up the publicity.
Free publicity, the stuff Hollywood worshiped.
Vertigo
Society
had Oscar-winner written all over it, and
she intended to be on that stage at the Academy Awards. Getting back into the
swing of regular roles would be great too. She just wanted this chance to prove
she was ready to be serious about her career again.

Tent-dress woman pumped Ashley’s hand. “I’m Rhonda Kelly, the
passenger coordinator. The others are in a private ready room getting to know
one another. We’re still waiting on the last of the ten, Mr. McAlister.”

Ashley lifted her lips into an I-have-a-PhD smile and swiped a
loose strand from the nasty wig out of her mouth. “Very good. Please lead the
way.”

The Swedish accent had taken hours and hours to master,
supplemented by watching endless footage of Ingrid Bergman on YouTube. Senator
Blanchard’s powers hadn’t extended to getting her on the alien ship as Ashley V,
so she’d become a scientist. Gladly.

Acting was all she had. Being someone else allowed her to
breathe, to forget about all the real-life trouble she couldn’t seem to
escape.

She grabbed her single suitcase and followed Rhonda.

“Your accent isn’t bad. Fantastic.” Rhonda bent her head toward
Ashley as they walked toward the building. “Some of the others speak such broken
English, I can barely understand them. It’s nice to be able to communicate, you
know?”

Ashley kept her eyes trained straight ahead. Rhonda’s dress was
the exact shade of orange guaranteed to make her queasy.

Orange represented the past.

Aliens, the future.

“I completed my education in the States,” Ashley explained. A
photographic memory was only one of the tools in her arsenal. Dr. Jonsson’s bio
had been a snap to learn, no different than researching a character. “My parents
moved to Massachusetts in my youth. I returned to Sweden after I received my
doctorate.”

Rhonda led her into the squat gray building and held open an
industrial-grade metal door halfway down the hall. The instant Ashley stepped
into the frigid room—a huge contrast to the steamy air outside—the others
glanced up. She smoothed the suit jacket and smiled. Only a mousy brown-haired
girl who couldn’t have been more than a couple years over the legal drinking age
returned her smile. Everyone else evaluated her with cool expressions.

No one stood to introduce themselves.

Dr. Khan, the scientist who’d coached her, hadn’t mentioned how
unfriendly scientists were.

“This is Dr. Astrid Jonsson, from Sweden.” Rhonda’s few, short
words drifted over Ashley, steeling her.

I
am
a
doctor
.
I
am
a
scientist
.
I
am

“The replacement astronautics engineer,” Rhonda finished. “Dr.
Khan was unable to accept her place on the ship, quite unexpectedly.”

Unexpectedly offered a sizable chunk of change to take a quiet
vacation in the Canaries, to be precise. Senator Blanchard had meticulously
arranged every detail, once Ashley demonstrated her willingness to trade...
favors
. She shoved that unpleasantness out of her
mind. Everyone made sacrifices to get what they wanted.

“Allow me to introduce the other passengers.” Rhonda drifted
toward the closest person and with a deferential hand, indicated a rotund,
fifty-something man. “This is Dr. Marc Glasson, from Switzerland, in the field
of genetics.” Then she moved to the next passenger.

None of the people resembled the press photos she’d studied.
Like she’d done for years on sets, Ashley started assigning cues to keep the
names and faces straight. The Swiss guy wore glasses. Last name, Glasson. He
became Dr. Glasses.

Rhonda introduced several other scientists and one lone
theologian, the oddity on the alien’s list. Ashley filed away their faces and
nicknames for quick recall later.

“Lovely to meet you.” Ashley smiled to the room. Nothing. If
anything, their faces hardened—if that was possible.

“Greg Sidelnikov.” The heavily accented voice came from behind
her and she turned. It belonged to a tall, ruddy-faced man in his mid-thirties
standing in the hall. “Call me Sid. I missed the introductions. You are?”

Sid stretched out a large hand and Ashley shook it firmly. “Dr.
Astrid Jonsson. Astronautics.”

“Astronautics as well. Odd our paths have not crossed
previously.” Sid studied her. “Where is Dr. Khan? I was looking forward to
meeting her.”

Here
we
go
. One Oscar-caliber performance coming up. “She
contracted an unfortunate case of the flu and was advised not to travel. I
replaced her.”

“I am not familiar with your work. Where did you study?”

“MIT. You as well, correct?” She knew for a fact he had, as
well as everything else from his bio.

“Yes, for my undergrad. Moscow State University for graduate.
Did you have Dr. Wellbourne for Structural Mechanics?” Sid jerked a head toward
the interior of the room, and sidestepped her to take a seat on an empty couch.
No cues needed for the Russian. His accent was so distinctive she’d be able to
pick him out of a lineup blindfolded. “Please join me. I’m curious to hear your
theories on the issue of thermal isolation between thrusters and bus.”

Ashley’s pulse picked up. The fictional publications to her
credit dealt with engine design in relation to the second law of thermodynamics,
and she’d practiced discussing it with Dr. Khan. But Dr. Khan knew Ashley had
memorized the verbiage, not learned it.

Panic sent the information swirling into a great black void.
Before this alien gig, the closest thing to a scientist she’d met was an
Egyptologist guy on the set of a horrible Lara Croft knockoff. He’d never shut
up, constantly spouting facts and snippets of information no one sober would
care about, and never once had he asked her to participate in the
conversation.

You
are
a
scientist
. Ashley centered herself and called up key
phrases from her memory, which would surely convey an authoritative command of
the subject. She was going to come across as knowledgeable and be validated by
the other scientists. Period.

The friendly, out-of-place brunette she’d labeled Miss Mouse
shifted on the leather couch opposite Ashley and Sid with a loud
rrrripppp
. All eyes in the room shifted toward the
lanky girl and she blushed.

“Oh.” Rhonda fluttered a hand. “I forgot to introduce you to
Natalie Donaldson, the U.S. contribution. The Go! Cola contest winner,” she
said, as if naming a new disease.

There hadn’t been a contest winner on the list she’d seen.

“Contest winner? They want us to send the winner of a contest?”
Ashley asked, grateful for the subject change.

“No, they do not,” Dr. Glasses answered for Rhonda with a sneer
and lumbered to his feet. Must be the type who was used to speaking while
standing. “Miss Donaldson’s seat should have been awarded to a geneticist. The
list specifically states two geneticists. I recommended one, which was ignored.
You Americans are all alike.”

Ashley sat back and tried to look as Swedish as possible.

The doctor punched his glasses against his flushed face and
addressed Miss Mouse, who shrank under his scrutiny. “You have no concept of the
brilliant and unprecedented opportunity we have here to unite as one world, to
learn from another species, and instead took an opportunity for
advertising.”

“Did someone say advertising? I’m your mate.” A cultured
voice—with the sexiest Scottish accent since Sean Connery—filled the room
seconds before the man did. The hotness who could only be Mr. McAlister whirled
through the door like a Tasmanian devil. He, on the other hand, looked exactly
like his picture—but in the flesh, he sparkled with energy.

“Mr. McAlister. I wasn’t expecting you until four o’clock.”
Rhonda went from harried to flustered in two point zero seconds as McAlister
drew her hand up and kissed her knuckles. With a wicked smile, he dropped
Rhonda’s hand and turned to the rest of them.

“Fredrick McAlister, expert in human behavior, at your
service.”

Eye-candy was always welcome. Ashley had a hard time tearing
her gaze away.

“Call me Freddy, luv,” he said to Dr. Malinga, a scientist from
the U.K. “All the girls down under do.”

Ashley sighed. She couldn’t get mixed up with yet another
vapid, good-looking guy with an accent. Not if she wanted to maintain her cover.
But oh, how she loved a great accent.

Freddy barely looked in her direction. Of course not. She was a
scientist, not Ashley V. Too bad. Those shoulders and biceps straining to bust
out of his closely tailored oxford were superhot. Exactly what she liked in a
guy—easy to look at, easy to talk to, easy to forget. Shallow with a capital S
and perfect for erasing memories of the months and months she’d wasted on Hugh
Westgate, knowing it was headed south but pathetically unable to let it go. Hugh
had been ideal too—gorgeous, fun and self-absorbed, so there was no danger he’d
try to take things deeper.

Superficial relationships were the only way to go.

Rhonda clapped her hands and Ashley ignored the compelling Mr.
McAlister.

“All right, everyone,” Rhonda said. “The ship is scheduled to
leave for the planet Alhedis in one hour. You folks are here because the
selection committee believes you’re the best of the best, exactly as the Telhada
expects.” Rhonda’s careful gaze swept the room and pointedly did not rest on
Miss Mouse. “We will load your suitcase for you prior to takeoff.”

“Excuse me,” Mouse interrupted. “I have more than one suitcase.
That’s acceptable, right? I mean, surely there’s enough room on the alien’s ship
for all my bags.”

Rhonda’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “Miss Donaldson. The
materials clearly stated you will refer to our hosts as the Telhada, not the
‘aliens,’ and it also referenced the number of suitcases.”

All the other passengers stared at her and she blushed again.
Rhonda went back to talking about the committee’s expectations.

Ashley couldn’t stand the pure misery pulling at Miss Mouse’s
face. Unfortunately, the Mouse cue had stuck. What was her name? Natalie. She
switched seats and whispered to her, “You didn’t read the information, did
you?”

She glanced up, clearly surprised. “No. They didn’t send it to
me.”

“You can read mine.” Ashley pulled the printed pages from her
carry-on bag and handed them to the other woman.

“Thanks. No one else will speak to me. In real life, I run an
animal shelter but here, I’m a publicity stunt.” Natalie made a fist and slugged
the air. “Go! Cola keeps you on the go. They pay me to say that. Really, I don’t
even drink it.”

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