Hunted By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle


He’s one of the most skilled alien engineers in the galaxy.

And he’s got my motor running.

I can’t get enough of Montier.

Those broad golden shoulders and big arms that want to sweep me off my feet...

Those alien bedroom eyes that look into my soul...

Those abs that I want to feast on...

It’s enough to make any human woman swoon.

Except we don’t have time to swoon when we’re in constant danger.

The people who kidnapped me have chased me around the galaxy and they’re not giving up.

We don’t know why they want me and my friends so much.

Hell, we don’t even know who they are.

Until Montier finds something that could blow this thing wide open.

It’s a gamble, but we’re willing to wager everything.

It’s dangerous, but the alternative is death.

This gorgeous horned alien man is my fated mate.

He’s sworn to protect me till the last star vanishes.

And now he’s going to lay it all on the line to keep me safe.

Because otherwise we’re all gonna die.

The Story So Far…

The year is 2338. Humanity has weathered it’s infancy and has navigated to the stars. They’ve colonized other worlds and become a space faring civilization and formed the Interstellar Human Confederation.

Along the way, they’ve come to discover that the galaxy is actually a pretty crowded place. There are several political entities in the galaxy.

The Trident Alliance is composed of the Vakutan, the Pi’rell, and the Alzhon.

The Ataxian Coalition is composed of the Odex, Kreetu, Grolgath, and Shorcu.

The Coalition and the Alliance has been fighting a war for about 350 years. At its heart, it’s an existential conflict that determines whether the known galaxy will be guided by the teachings of the Ataxian religion or by the capitalistic and technocratic tendencies of the Trident Alliance.

Details are unclear how the war between the Alliance and Coalition started, but atrocities in the name of protecting the innocent have been committed by both sides.

Several races, trying to remain neutral and unaffiliated with either side have formed a loose political union known as the League of Non-Aligned Races. Each race maintains their sovereignty. Member states meet infrequently to discuss trade and security matters, but no true leadership exists.

Many races over the centuries have settled and created a political entity known as the Helios Combine, situated between Coalition and Alliance space and next to the Badlands - a region of space with many stellar phenomena. The Combine is known for it’s slave based economy, its capitalist based caste system, and a rigid social class system.

Humanity had for a long time maintained their neutrality, but after multiple encounters, sided with the Alliance in their war against the Coalition.

War has been unkind to the humans.

Against this backdrop, a large IHC freighter, named the Frontier was found adrift in space by a Kilgari smuggler ship called the Ancestral Queen. The women were found either in cryosleep or emerging from it, with no idea how they ended up on the ship other than the fact that they had been arrested by human security on a number of worlds.

What they discover is that their government has announced that they are terrorists and wanted for acts of treason and espionage. None of the women believes they have done anything to warrant this.

The Kilgari are aliens that live in a matriarchal society and belong to the League of Non Aligned Races. The Ancestral Queen, led by Captain Solair has brought the women on board and continued to help them as well as integrate those who wish to stay into the crew.

Some women wish to return to their homes. Very few had any sort of real families. But they all want to clear their name and bring those who are falsely accusing them to justice one day.

That day has yet to come…

Chapter One


The pounding of the surf washing up on the pristine, white sand beach mixes with my own grunts of exertion as I heft the golden-hued panel over my head and struggle to fit it into place. Blinking sweat out of my eyes, I check to see it’s arranged properly before snapping it into the housing.

Nearby, the portable crane sits mired in the sand. I told Solair we should have gone with a hover model rather than a wheeled one, but given how hideously expensive they are I suppose I can’t fault him for the decision he made. After all, it’s not often that one enacts repairs on a sandy beach, even for an atmosphere-capable ship like the Ancestral Queen.

Besides, I have no need for the crane. I can heft the