One man, one woman, one alien, and one terrible case of Surface Tension.
Rachel doesn’t believe in Little Green Men, but she’s got a serious thing for Max. Wait, make that Rachel doesn’t believe in Little Green Men until her dog attacks one in the woods.
Max really likes Rachel, but what woman is going to want a guy totally obsessed with aliens? Then she turns up on his doorstep with an injured Extraterrestrial Biological Entity. Now they have to figure out how to help the alien without tipping off the FBI agent who has been surveilling Max.
Ranley is just hoping to survive overprotective dogs, stupid co-workers and well meaning superiors and get out of this situation with a couple of cool scars and a nice cushy lecturing job in Zenoexobiology.
Something thudded repeatedly at his back door.
“Jesus Christ,” Max hissed. He checked out the front window. Taylor had stationed himself in the usual location half a mile down the mountain. Max could just make out the outline of the agent in the driver’s seat. A little more noise and he’d be out of that seat and poking around the house again. “What?” Max yelled.
Max frowned. Rachel? Rachel never came to his house. She also never asked for help. Dropping his sock he ran for the door.
“Max, hurry up!” Rachel howled. “Wellie bit one of … one of those things … those aliens …. God, I think he’s dead.”
Max slipped on the stairs and fell the last five steps, whacking his head on the banister. He tried to ask for confirmation, but all he managed to produce was a garbled collection of half syllables because his brain was too busy trying to process what she was saying.
“I think he’s dead.”
Max lurched across the kitchen floor. He yanked open the door without turning on the light.
Rachel stood on his back steps with Wellie pressing against her knees and a limp EBE draped over her arms. She pushed past him into the house, babbling her own series of nonsense.
Max trailed her to the couch rubbing the growing knot at the back of his head. She laid the body on his couch before reaching up to switch on the lamp.
There was something wrong with that gesture, but he couldn’t place it. When the light blinded him, his stomach dropped.
“No!” Max lunged forward, bumping the lamp instead of turning it off. The lamp spun in slow motion to the edge of the table before falling. The bulb popped.
“Wha’d ya do that for?” Rachel demanded.
“Taylor’s watching the house.” Max chewed his bottom lip. “We have to go downstairs.”
“You have a hospital in your basement? We should turn him over to the government.” Rachel smoothed her hand over the alien’s uninjured shoulder.
“They’ll kill it.” He nudged her out of the way and scooped up the alien.
“You’ve got to be out of your mind.” Rachel followed him down the basement stairs. “He’s hurt and maybe dying. You can’t keep a dead body in your basement even if it is an alien body.”
“The characters were charming and witty. The story was an endearing little twist on aliens.” – Janice Benson