Alien in the Family

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Thanks and many “I am not worthies” to Sheila Gilbert for always saying those magic words every author dreams of hearing from her editor and continuously helping make my writing stronger and better, and to Cherry Weiner for still being the best there is—agent, friend, sounding-board, and shoulder.
    To Lisa Dovichi, Crit Partner Extraordinaire, and to Mary Fiore, Beta Reader to the Stars, I say what I’ve been saying all along: Still couldn’t do it without you.
    Many thanks to The Galaxy Express, the Science Fiction Romance Brigade, 1 st Turning Point, and Desert Rose RWA for tons of support and promotion. Same again to everyone at Haggard Chiropractic, Hand & Stone Paradise Valley, and Innerlooks Salon for continuous support and promotion, even though books are not your businesses. Much love and many shout outs to the awesome book review bloggers out there—there’s too many to list here (though you’re all on my Blog Roll), but you all do more to keep books alive and going strong than any others, and you have the love and thanks of this grateful alien nation.
    Extra shout outs to: Gabrielle Weber for being my biggest little fan; author Amber Scott for continuous cheering, support, and enthusiasm; artist Daniel Dos Santos whose brilliant, beautiful covers make my books come alive; and Danny and Akiko, for insisting I practice reading aloud to them before hitting the con circuit (and thereby saving me from sounding like a speed-reading squirrel on amphetamines).
    Thanks again to everyone I thanked the last times, anyone I might have missed at any time, and everyone else added into the “family” and the Big Dawg Pack along the way, for all you do and keep on doing—you know who you are and why I love and appreciate you. (If you’re saying, but does she mean me , the answer is yes, yes I do.)
    Extra special thanks to Team Gini, all those on Hook Me Up!, and all Alien Collective Members in Very Good Standing around the globe—you’re the best fans EVER and each and every one of you totally rock my world.
    Finally, as before and always, the biggest thanks and all my love to Steve and Veronica—I couldn’t have created a better husband and daughter than you are in real life.

IN SPRINGTIME A YOUNG ALIEN’S THOUGHTS turn to love. And marriage. And, as fast as possible, the baby carriage.
    Dating anyone from a different culture can be hard. Try dating one from a different planet. Oh, and working with him, too. Every day. Every single day.
    I like being a superbeing exterminator. The hours are kind of random, but the benefits are great, especially the benefit of getting to live and work with the most gorgeous people on Earth. Sure, they have two hearts, can run at hyperspeed, and actually come from Alpha Centauri. But, hey, they’re just regular folks, for the most part.
    On the other hand, planning a wedding with one of them is not the easiest fish to fry. Not, realistically, that frying fish is all that hard. Not that I would, personally, know, either, since I avoid active participation in all kitchens except under extreme duress. Okay, fish fry equals bad example.
    But mixing wedding planning along with protecting the Earth from all the threats, internal and extremely external, that plague it on a daily freaking basis is not a piece of cake. Particularly when you already come from a religiously mixed family and are mixing in a third one. That you can’t tell your family about. No worries, been lying to them about my career change for almost a year, not like telling the grandparents another whopper will kill them. Right?
    I’ll just keep them distracted with lots of doublespeak and focus their attention on things like flowers and seating arrangements. Before they know it, the wedding will be over, and they’ll all go back to their lives, none the wiser.

    Yeah, I know. It’s one of my plans. It’ll go all Dog Day Afternoon somewhere along the line. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

CHAPTER 1

    “WHY ARE WE WAITING OUT HERE in the middle of the night?” Martini asked for what, by my count, was the tenth time in less than an hour.
    “Because Chuckie said there was something here we needed to see, Jeff. You know, like I’ve said for the past, oh, hours?”
    “Why do you insist on calling him Chuckie?” Martini was really in a mood. Possibly because we’d been interrupted in the middle of a very romantic dinner by Chuckie’s phone call. To me, not to Martini.
    “Because