Psy (Alien Castaways #3) - Cara Bristol Page 0,53

large foyer, the walls decorated with family photos. With shock, Meadow recognized her baby face staring at her from dozens of them. “Let’s go into the living room.”

“Are you my daughter’s husband?” she heard her father ask.

They hadn’t planned to marry, marriage seeming unimportant because no legal arrangement could be stronger than a genmate bond, but visions of her parents walking her down the aisle at her wedding to the man who had made everything possible filled her head. Suddenly she desired that more than anything. To share at least one big moment after losing so many would be a dream come true.

“Meadow and I just got engaged,” her genmate replied to her father. Don’t you know I want to make all your dreams come true?

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Thank you for reading Psy: Alien Castaways 3. I hope you’ll tell other readers about the book by leaving a review. In 2021, Shadow, Tigre, and Inferno’s stories will be published. Shadow will be next! To get notified of those releases, sign up to receive my newsletter AND get a free book (Cyborg Husband) to read now: http://carabristol.com/get-your-free-book/. From time to time, I have free and 99-cent BookBub deals, so if you follow me on BookBub, you’ll find out about those: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/cara-bristol.

The Alien Castaways series is an Intergalactic Dating Agency (IDA) romance, a multi-author project in which alien heroes come to Earth and meet their mates. My Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides series is part of the IDA collection. Read on for an excerpt from DARAK: Dakonian Alien Mail Order Brides 1 (Intergalactic Dating Agency).

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Revenge is best served sweet with a hot, horned alien.

Free-spirited pastry chef Lexi Sutterman has discovered that true love is pie in the sky. The only thing more difficult than finding an Earth man willing to commit is pleasing her wealthy, hypercritical family who view her as a failure. So she’s given up on both, focusing her energy on her new bakery. When her uber-successful little sister manages to nab a well-heeled fiancé, Lexi fights back by joining the Intergalactic Dating Agency. She plans to bring a huge, purple, tentacled alien as her plus-one to the wedding.

Darak of planet Dakon isn’t purple or tentacled—he’s just seven feet of horned alien hotness. To get a woman on his world, a guy has to literally win the lottery. Tired of waiting for the Fates to send him a female, he joins the dating service to meet a nice Earth girl to call his own. He recognizes Lexi as his true mate, but realizes convincing her they’re meant to be together forever and not just for a weekend will be no cakewalk.

When a sweet-tart pastry chef and a horned alien hottie fall in love, everyone gets their just desserts…

DARAK

Lexi

The hand-addressed, gold-embossed, perfumed envelope I’d brought in with the junk mail sat on my kitchen counter and tugged at my attention, despite my best efforts to ignore it. Anything that fancy and expensive couldn’t be good news. I sighed, licked black-cherry frosting off my fingers, and tore open the envelope.

Dr. Blake and Mrs. Caroline Gates Sutterman request the honor of your presence at the marriage ceremony of Miss Antoinette Leigh Gates Sutterman to Phillip Edward Markham IV…

Told ya. Bad news. My baby sister was getting married. It wasn’t enough she’d fast-tracked her way to partner of her law firm at the young age of twenty-five, she was sealing the deal by marrying the firm’s founding member, Phillip Edward Markham IV. The possibility she might have slept her way to the top didn’t detract from her accomplishment. In our family, how you achieved success didn’t matter, as long as you did.

Two years ago, my brother had finished his plastic surgery residency and joined Dad’s practice, last year my sister had made partner, and me? I was officially…a failure. I had no titles before my name, no letters after my name, and no prospects of marrying up.

I tossed the envelope aside, and a whole bunch of other stuff fell onto the floor: an RSVP card for the wedding, a separate invitation for the rehearsal dinner, an RSVP card for that, and tissue paper.

I tasted the frosting again, letting the flavors settle on my tongue. Perfect. My client would be pleased. I wiped the residual stickiness from my fingers with the tissue paper before jotting down the recipe measurements in my tablet, just as the picto-phone app began to play Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”

With a grimace, I propped the computer on