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Five Fact Thursday - Sixshooter by Lyndi Alexander #alien #scifi #romance

Five facts about Sixshooter:

These characters are based on characters my best friend, my ex-husband and I played in an online RPG about ten years ago.

Space cowboys are not all named Maurice-- but Garrett's grandfather was.

The genderfluid alien in the story can be in their natural form, or can shapeshift into a male or female human form, depending on who they want to have intimate time with.

If you're a fan of FIREFLY and SERENITY, this book will be right up your alley.

It's pretty sad when governments start using deadly viruses against each other to wipe out civilizations.

Love, like space, knows no boundaries

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Valeni Pascual wants to be free to make a living hauling cargo with her spaceship and to understand the shapeshifting alien who presents sometimes as the steamy male Nik and other times as the blonde bombshell Nikki.

As a rebel insurgence builds against the oppressive government known as the Agency, Valeni and Nik/Nikki encounter a sexy Terran cowboy named Garrett Rawls. Since being pulled into this region of space by another mysterious wormhole, Garrett has looked for a way to return to Earth. After meeting Valeni and Nikki, he might have found something worth staying for. However, dark forces may have a much bigger picture in mind for all of them. Valeni, Nik/Nikki, and Garrett are pulled into a life and death fight that lays bare all of their secrets and their desires. Will they lose everything as the battle against the Agency rages around them or can love pull them through?


The ones that seem so easy go sour the quickest. Every time.

Valeni Pascual’s throat tightened. Hot sweat ran down between her shoulders, and her finger itched for her trigger. Too bad her gun was behind her on the wide leather seat of her sandrunner, gleaming beautifully in the late afternoon sun. The four men standing in front of her already had theirs in hand.

The pack leader, a thick-necked lubber called Fat Jonny, had the nerve to laugh. “C’mon, Val, don’t make this hard on yourself. And when I say hard, I mean the application of solid lead to your silky, kaff-colored skin.” His minions snickered.

Eight crates of cargo sat in a pile a dozen meters to the right, near her sleek ship, the Tiburon. It stood silhouetted against the rocky Marriel landscape, a swath of brown and tan sands.

If she connected with the buyer due any minute, the profit would cover six months of expenses and her late Agency dues. The deal had been a wild, desperate risk that nearly cost her landing gear in a hasty and ill-advised takeoff from the far side of the desert. No way she could afford to surrender the cargo. She had to stand fast.

Wishing her radio was handy, not tucked in her jacket pocket next to her sandrunner on the ground, she smirked, hoping attitude alone might shield her. “Still expecting everyone else to do your work for you, Jon? Don’t you have even a shred of pride inside those layers of pork?”

He cocked his gun, leveled it at her. “Last chance.”

Damn again. She’d intentionally chosen this spot way out at the edge of the tarmac for its privacy. The down side? It also left her out of public view of anyone who could offer her help. She was out of options. “Fi—”

A voice behind the men interrupted her.

“What a bunch of fine-looking gentlemen! Are any of ’em spoken for, or can I have my pick?”

The men turned around. A petite blonde woman wearing a thin white scarf tied around her breasts and a scandalously short skirt greeted them with a broad smile and a charged laser rifle.

Val nearly fainted with relief. How had Nikki known? She’d been in the bowels of the ship repairing one of her many gadgets. Now, she was the cavalry.

The attractive woman eyed the men. “I didn’t know we were expecting company.”

“We weren’t.”

While Fat Jonny ogled Nikki, Valeni lunged for her gun and then leveled it at his double chins. “Jon and his men were just leaving. Weren’t you?”

Triumph faded from the opportunistic bandit’s cocky expression. It might be safe to gang up on an unarmed woman. It was quite another to face one in front and one behind, both ready to shoot.

Losing their battle with divided attention, the minions backed off and holstered their weapons. The blonde stepped between them and the cargo. As a final incentive, she fired up the laser generator on her gun. “Get on out of here, like good little boys.”

Grumbling, they skulked away, headed for the central hangars in the distance, Fat Jonny waddling in the center of the group, the others bitterly gesturing in complaint, looking back over their shoulders once in a while.

Probably checking out Nikki’s legs. They’re worth a second glance, that’s for sure.

They weren’t in the clear just yet, so Val held her sigh of reprieve. Their cargo still sat exposed on the tarmac awaiting their buyer. Nikki’s jaw firmed up into a stubborn pout.

“You want to explain how you got caught with your figurative pants down?”

Valeni tensed, guilt gathering her stomach into a knot. “We haven’t been here but fifteen minutes. I went ahead and offloaded the stack ’cause I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, Jowalt should be here any time.”

Nikki’s green eyes blazed. “And what would we be eating for the next several months if Fat Jonny had walked off with our cache, hmm?”

Val bit her lip. She shrugged. The ship was all she had. At 23, most other pilots were still slaves to some corporate entity, working to make their bosses rich. But she’d saved her credits since she was a young teen shoveling rock on construction sites, and paid for the Tiburon outright.

She couldn’t lose it now.

Author Bio

Lyndi Alexander always dreamed of faraway worlds and interesting alien contacts. She lives as a post-modern hippie in Asheville, North Carolina, a single mother of her last child of seven, a daughter on the autism spectrum, finding that every day feels a lot like first contact with a new species.

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