by Tracy Renee Wolfe
From Filles Vertes Publishing, LLC
Available March 30, 2018
When lonely college student Melissa Field is abducted and swept into an out-of-this-world adventure, it’s nothing like she imagined. Her life collides with Orion’s aboard a space station where Melissa is the captive subject for Orion’s forced experiment to save his species.
Being the center of this life-changing study has its perks. Having researched humans as a longtime hobby, Orion allows Melissa the comforts of home; even if the pizza is cooked in a replicator. At least his touch is warm and real enough.
As they discover the corrupt intentions of those in charge, their only chance at joy and safety together exists away from the Phaeite leaders known as the Ruling Class. But escaping brings short-lived freedom when the Phaeites aren’t the only species intent on ruining their lives.
It will take more than reliable transportation and courage for Melissa to span a galaxy and save her new family. Being abducted by aliens was nothing compared to getting in the middle of an intergalactic war.
Meet the Author
Tracy Renee Wolfe is an author, lover of books, Christian, wife, mom, animal lover, geek, and Hokie. She lives in her native state of Virginia with her husband and son. She loves all furry animals, including rats, and is known for stopping to pet any dog she encounters. As a self-professed geek, she loves science fiction and fantasy, and fervently defends her belief that Star Trek and Star Wars are not mutually exclusive fandoms. She considers herself to be an online extrovert and an offline introvert, leading to her love of social media. Additionally, she shares many interests with little kids, such as Disney movies, the opinion that no food can be “too sweet,” and cheesy poetry that rhymes. An example of the latter can be found in the poetry anthology, Our Virginia: The State For Lovers.
Connect with Tracy on Her Official Website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads
After a few minutes, I adjusted to the noxious air. Maybe my subconscious accepted its fated death and allowed me to relax and accept the gas into my system. I physically relaxed and idiotically gave up my struggle under the strange circumstances.
“I’ve completely weaned you off oxygen,” he said. “You’re now breathing the same air I am. Now we just need to ease off the psychotropic. It’s similar to a drug you know as valium but stronger. It helps to lessen anxiety but also makes you more cooperative.”
“Ohhh,” I said with a musical lilt to my voice.
That’s why I’m so relaxed. But why on earth would I be breathing something other than oxygen?
The calming effect slipped away as he turned off the drugs. The panic slowly started to creep back in at first. Then it bombarded me, and everything went black.
At some point, I realized I was waking up again and tried to speak. But even breathing was like sandpaper rubbing my windpipes, aching as if I was inhaling fire. The thick air seemed to congeal in my system, almost like a solid instead of a gas.
Orion sat next to me on a stool, staring and holding my hand as if he were a friend trying to comfort me. “Shhhhhh,” he gently cooed. “Try not to speak. Give your body the chance to get used to this new feeling. You didn’t pass out; I gave you a sedative, so your body could just focus on breathing ryphahl instead of oxygen. Also, we were both in bloody desperate need of sleep. You slept for ten hours.”
I tried to speak but got shushed again. “I promise, I’ll answer all your questions later. Let me get you something to drink.” He placed my right arm back into the restraints as he left the room.
I didn’t have time to attempt a breakout as he returned quickly with a cup of water. He held it close to my mouth, and I took a big slurp through the straw but gagged and spewed the entire mouthful all over my lap.
“I should’ve warned you.” He gently wiped off my hospital gown with a towel. “This is similar to your water, but not quite the same. Plus, everything tastes different due to the change in atmosphere which affects your sense of taste and smell.”
He tossed the towel behind me and sat back down on the small stool. As he seemed to be composing his thoughts, I searched his face for the answers I needed. He noticed and, gazing toward the floor as if suddenly self-conscious, he straightened the surgical cap he wore.
“Okay, Melissa—is it okay that I call you by your name?”
I nodded, wondering how he knew.
“Learning to breathe was rough, but that’s not the only thing to get through. This next part will be uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.” He looked remorsefully at the ground again, but got right to work without waiting for any response.
Click HERE to check out the mini-trailer for ABDUCTED HOPE