She wanted to curl up with a Sci-fi Romance—she never thought she’d be living one!
Kyle has finally found a woman who seems more interested in his intellect and interests than his physique. Too bad it happens right before discovering his entire life has been built on a lie.
Tracey thinks she’s found her own “Happily Ever After” when she hooks up with the smartest, hottest guy she’s ever met. But their story takes a turn, landing them in the crosshairs of alien invaders who’ve barely begun their conquest of Earth.
Can they figure out who to trust in time to save their homeworld and their lives?
Author’s note: Have you ever wanted a quick read with super-hot love scenes, wacky hijinks, and whimsical puns? Presenting The Department of Homeworld Security! Short, sexy, scifi romcoms, packed with fish-out-of-water moments, aliens being baffled by finding their first love, and lots of…probing.
Invasive Species contains a sneak peek at Export Duty, book nine of The Department of Homeworld Security. Buy Invasive Species and start reading today!
(THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMEWORLD SECURITY, Book Eight)
Copyright © 2018 Cassandra Chandler
All rights reserved
Kyle leaned down and kissed her again—a light, playful kiss. Then he rolled away from her. He listed to the side as soon as he stood, spreading his arms to right himself.
Tracey rose so she was kneeling on the bed, not that she’d be able to actually catch him if he fell, with how big he was. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” He turned and smiled at her. “You just have a profound effect on me.”
Part of her thrilled at the compliment. Most of her started to worry. The ashen color of his skin was turning a little green. Maybe he was coming down with the flu.
He started to dress, pulling on his pants and shirt, then sat down heavily on the bed.
“You are not fine,” she said. She hopped out of bed and grabbed her own clothes, pulling them on as quickly as she could.
Tracey had an aunt who was diabetic. He was almost acting like she did when her blood sugar levels became too low.
“I’m…” He shook his head, then suddenly stiffened. “What time is it?”
“Twelve-thirty,” Tracey said.
“Shit.” He leapt up from the bed, staggering toward the door.
“What is it?”
“My allergy shot. I’m supposed to take it every morning at eight.”
“You’re only a few hours late,” she said. “Is it really that big a deal?”
She followed him as he stumbled down the hall, wanting to reach out to him. He kept falling against the wall. She’d be flattened if she came too close.
“I tried to not take it a few times when I was a kid. I always became sicker than I’ve ever been and caved within two hours.”
It had been twice that long since he was supposed to take it. What was going to happen to him?
He dropped to his knees by his messenger bag. The contents were still scattered across the floor from when they’d arrived.
“Where is it?” He started rifling through the pile of stuff.
A bit of the clear plastic was sticking out from the side opposite him. “Under the notebook.”
He let out a sigh, then brushed the notebooks out of the way. She knew something was wrong before he even reached for it. His back stiffened and his chest stilled as if he was holding his breath.
He picked up the injector and held it up. “It’s already been deployed.”