Page 1 of Whisked Away By the Alien

CHAPTERONE

GOLDA

As fast as I can, I slam the door shut before the winter storm grabs it out of my hand. I stand completely still as I realize too late that slamming the door could be my downfall. Ten. Twenty seconds pass. No crying baby. Yay! I didn’t wake her. I love my niece, but she’s a little hellion when it comes to napping, and I need a little R&R after the week I’ve had at the warehouse.

Taking in the familiar surroundings, the comfy velvet blue sofa, the wood dining room table, and all the books lining the floor to ceiling bookcase relaxes me. So many memories here, most of them good. There’s nothing like coming home for the holidays. Everyone is in a festive mood and Mom cooks my favorite dishes.

Of course, the trade-off is dealing with the usual questions and unsolicited comments. Who are you dating? Why aren’t you dating? You need to lose weight. You won’t catch a man dressed like that.

Hopefully, Sadie will distract her enough to forgo the usual interrogation. Contrary to my mom’s beliefs, finding a decent guy has nothing to do with my weight, clothing, or job. I just haven’t met a man who makes me smile.

As I remove my coat, a delicious scent from the kitchen grabs me, reminding me of camping. My lungs pull in the clean fresh air of the woods with a hint of smoke from a bonfire, only more refined, more… bone deep. The aroma invades me down to my soul, making my entire body crave something I’ve never had before. I can’t peg what precisely, but I know I need it.

My mind races down the list of holiday foods. It’s not latkes, apple sauce, brisket, matzah ball soup or any of the substitutions Mom makes when she can’t get the right ingredients. With dad’s connections in the government, he usually brings home whatever Mom needs, even when food is scarce. Which fortunately hasn’t been the case since Earth regained its freedom two years ago.

With one quick yank, I rip off the bright pink hat and mittens Bubbe knitted for me and dash to the kitchen. “Mom? What are you cooking?”

“Is that you, Golda?” my mom calls from upstairs the moment my hand lands on the kitchen door.

“I got the day off. A Hannukah miracle!”

A very loud clank comes from the other side of the swinging door that leads into the kitchen. I back away. No one else should be home at this hour. It’s only ten a.m. Rachel’s in school during the day, dad never walks in before six, and Bubbe’s not coming until tomorrow.

“Mom?” I call up the steps. “I think there’s someone in the kitchen.”

My mom appears at the top of the stairs. She’s dressed in her long black wool coat, but she’s holding my half-naked niece, who’s squirming in her arms. “That’s Zankov. Or Stankov. Or… Oh, hell, I can’t remember. Some Russian name. Your father’s friend in Earth Intelligence sent him over to help with the cooking and cleaning. Anything we need. The poor guy has no family nearby and needs some help acclimating to New York and practicing his English. He’ll be here for the week. I haven’t had a chance to greet him properly. These damn cloth diapers are not as good as what we had before the war. I had Sadie all dressed and ready to go to the doctor’s appointment, and now I have to change her outfit.”

“Are you telling me you left the door open and let a stranger walk into our house?”

“Not a stranger. Someone your father sent. Sadie’s a handful. I can’t get everything done and take care of her, too. I’m glad you’re here. I’m leaving you in charge while I take her to her appointment. Don’t forget to polish the menorah.”

Now I have two reasons to grab the menorah. To get it ready for the first night of Hannukah, and to clobber the guy in the kitchen if he turns out to be some freak.

As I fling open the dining room buffet drawers, searching for the menorah, that damned scent wraps around me, making me hungry, but not for food. Something more.

With my fingers curled around the silver menorah my grandfather made back in Poland, I tiptoe to the kitchen, hoping to spy on the stranger my mom let walk into the house. What if it’s some random guy who found the door unlocked and now he’s robbing us blind? It’s not like we’re the wealthiest family around, but food is food and not always easy to get. Not that we’d turn a hungry person away. Even so, people can turn violent over food.

As I lean against the swinging door to listen, the door opens and I go flying into the kitchen. I land face-down and the menorah pops out of my hand and skitters across the hardwood floor.

Military boots, large ones—some gargantuan size that shouldn’t exist—appear before my face.

“Let me help you up, female.”

“Female?”

He holds out a large blue hand. It’s one of those trust or don’t trust moments. I know nothing about him and I should keep my distance, but he’s already standing over me, waiting patiently. He definitely has the advantage here, but there’s a softness to his expression that convinces me to trust a little.

When I take his hand, the corner of his mouth kicks up in a mixture of relief and something I can’t quite identify. There’s an honesty and wholesomeness to him that permeates the air between us.

Effortlessly, he pulls me to my feet, as if I’m a child, not a grown woman who indulged in a few too many latkes last year and still hasn’t worked them off. Not that last year’s holiday celebration impacts this year’s. Everyone knows calories don’t count during the holidays and I’m looking forward to jelly donuts.

As I straighten my torso, the enormity of this alien strikes me. His horns—yes, actual horns!—lightly scrape along the low ceiling until they angle back. Even without horns, the male towers over me. And yet, those large, bulging muscles and handsome face hold my attention. I find myself mentally undressing him.

Golda! Get a hold of yourself! Alien. ALIEN!

I clear my throat. “Just one lick.”

Oh, God, I didn’t say that out loud, did I?

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