Cara Bristol's "Stranded with the Cyborg" Blog Tour

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Stranded with the Cyborg 

(A Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance)

by Cara Bristol 

Blurb:

The daughter of the Terran president, Penelope Aaron resented the restrictions imposed upon her, but that was no reason to take it out on the man assigned to protect her. She regrets how she got Agent Brock Mann booted from the security force. But now that she’s an interplanetary ambassador about to embark on her first diplomatic mission, she still doesn’t want him tagging along. Especially since he seems to be stronger, faster, more muscled, and sexier than she remembers. And pretending to be her husband?  This mission couldn’t get more impossible!

Ten years ago Penelope Isabella Aaron had been a pain in Brock Mann’s you-know-what. Much has changed in a decade: “PIA” as he code-named her, has grown up and is about to attend her first Alliance of Planets summit conference, and Brock was transformed into a cyborg after a near-fatal attack. Now a secret agent with Cyber Operations, a covert paramilitary organization, Brock gets called in, not when the going gets tough, but when the going gets impossible. So when he’s unexpectedly assigned to escort Penelope to the summit meeting, he balks at babysitting a prissy ambassador. But after a terrorist bombing, a crash landing on a hostile planet, and a growing attraction to his protectee, Operation: PIA may become his most impossible assignment yet.

Available for purchase at 

      

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Excerpts

“What was so urgent it couldn’t wait until I got back from Darius 4?” Brock flung himself into the wide sensa-chair, which conformed to the angles and lines of his body to provide optimal support and comfort. He would have preferred an android pleasure worker fit her realistic feminine form around him rather than a piece of furniture—as he’d been about to experience when the Cyber Operations director’s summons had come through. “You’re the one who insisted I take respite time.”

“Drink?” Carter punched a button on his console, a cabinet slid open, and he removed a decanter. After pouring two shots of bronze liqueur, he shoved one across the desk.

Brock’s internal warning system flashed an alert. “What’s the bad news?”

“Why do you assume that?”

“Whenever you break out the Cerinian brandy, you’re either trying to butter me up or soften the blow.” He eyed the man who’d been his friend since they’d served together in the Terran Central Protection Office thirteen years ago. Carter’s blank expression betrayed nothing, but the brandy sang like a yellow songbird.

The director knocked back his shot then thumped his chest with his fist. Cerinian brandy went down smooth until the afterburn lit your throat on fire. Or it did to one who was unaltered. Brock swallowed his and felt only slight warmth.

“I have an assignment for you,” Carter said, his voice hoarse from the liqueur. “The Association of Planets Summit is on Malodonus next week. There’s been a threat against…the Terran ambassador.” He hesitated like he expected Brock to short-circuit a computer chip.

After five years without a day off, Brock had been ordered to take R & R or be reassigned to desk duty. His irritation with the edict had been relieved somewhat when he’d arrived at the Darius 4 pleasure resort and discovered the android sex workers were almost lifelike.

First Carter told him to go then he recalled him. Brock wouldn’t blow any gaskets, but he was irked. Quit jerking me around. “What government official hasn’t received a threat? It’s part of the job. What’s so special about this case?” He shifted in the sensa-chair so its fingers could massage his lower spine.

“According to intel, Lamis-Odg is involved.”

Lamis-Odg had contributed nothing significant or positive toward the advancement of society in thousands of years yet opposed the AOP’s goal to draw the peoples of the galaxy into an alliance. Historically, the backwater planet had been more bluster than bite but, in recent years, had resorted to terrorism to intimidate its adversaries.

Brock flexed his right hand. “How certain is the threat?”

“Ten years have passed. Penelope is different now,” Carter said.

Brock doubted that. “Does she know about me?”

“That you’re a cyborg? Of course not. She hasn’t been told anything about the program or even that you’re the one who’s been assigned to her.”

“Yeah, spring it on her. That will go over well.” He could envision the tantrum, and, after she calmed down, the scheme she would devise to circumvent the decision. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been emerging from his quarters half-dressed, a triumphant smile tilting her lips. Shortly thereafter, two fellow agents had come to arrest him.

President Aaron had exonerated him, the transcripts from the investigation had been sealed, and he’d been offered reassignment. Instead, he’d taken a position with an anti-terrorist investigative organization. His unit got attacked; his fellow operatives had died. Carter, who’d been working with Cy-Ops all along, had swooped in and saved his ass.

“I’m not saying I’ll do it, but, hypothetically, if I had a computer meltdown and agreed, what would be my cover story? I couldn’t tag along as her bodyguard because that would unsettle the Xenians.”

Carter poured another shot of Cerinian brandy and downed it. He met Brock’s gaze dead-on. “You’d accompany Ambassador Aaron as her husband.”

“Oh, hell no!”

Different, my ass. At the Interplanetary Shuttle Port, Brock leaned against a pillar outside the arrival gate of Pia’s incoming flight and erased from his face all indication of how steamed he was. Pia had lived up to her former code name. She hadn’t changed a bit. He’d have been really pissed if he’d gotten all the way to Terra and then been informed his protectee had gone AWOL. Fortunately, he hadn’t yet boarded his shuttle when Cy-Ops had received word through a secure channel Pia was headed for the ISP. All he had to do was round her up.

All I have to do. He snorted. Nothing involving Pia was ever easy.

The computerized voice announced the landing, but Brock remained where he was and scrutinized the crowd for potential threats. After the craft taxied to the dock and locked to the terminal bridge, passengers began to disembark.

A carryall slung over her shoulder, a naked Pia sashayed into the terminal. She wasn’t technically nude, but Brock’s cyber-enhanced vision could see right through her travel uniform. Only a cascade of blue-black hair streaming to her waist impeded a full view. As she moved, her hair swung, giving him a peep show of generous breasts tipped by rosy nipples. Nothing obscured the tantalizing mound of her sex, the curls trimmed to a neat vee.

Brock yanked his gaze to her face. Thick lashes framed violet eyes over high cheekbones and a cute little chin that masked her stubbornness. The gonna-be-pretty-someday teenager had transformed into a stunning, breathtakingly beautiful woman with a flawless, creamy complexion.

Blood rushed south, and Brock immediately activated his nanocytes to cool the heat. She had no enhanced vision, and his uniform wasn’t transparent, but his erection would be obvious if he didn’t control it.

She was his current protectee, a former accuser, a spoiled, entitled, vindictive hellion who’d derailed his CPO career, all facts his body continued to ignore. This was Carter’s fault. If the director hadn’t interrupted him before he could avail himself of the services of a Darius 4 pleasure droid, he wouldn’t be reacting this way. If his former friend and current superior officer hadn’t forced this assignment on him, he wouldn’t be here at all.

Fuck it all to hell. Brock shoved off from the post.

Pia stopped dead, blocking disembarking passengers. Her jaw dropped, and her huge violet eyes widened more. “Agent Mann?” She hadn’t gotten any taller—she didn’t even top his shoulder.

“Ambassador,” he growled, mad at her, angry with Carter, and furious with himself.

She licked her lips. “W-what are you doing here?”

He took her arm and led her out of the traffic flow. “Is that a question to ask your…husband?” If she was his wife, his real wife, he’d make damn sure she never wore another travel uniform. It didn’t matter that only machine scanners, droids, and cyborgs could see through it.

She jerked and snapped back her head. “You’re my bodyguard? No, absolutely not.” She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. “Despite what my mother believes, I don’t need a babysitter, and certainly not you. You may return to whatever other duties you have,” she said like she was dismissing an android.

“I don’t take orders from you,” he said. “I issue them. You’ll do what I tell you to do.” He leaned in. The scent of her hair swirled around him. “My orders to ensure your safety supersede your assignment. If that means tossing you over my shoulder and putting you on the first flight to Terra, so be it.”

About the Author

Multi-published, Cara Bristol is the author of more than 20 erotic romance titles. She writes science fiction romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and spanking romance. No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.

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