Kitty vs Alien (Feral Aliens #1) Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Feral Aliens Series by Loki Renard
Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

(Feral Aliens #1) Kitty vs Alien

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Loki Renard

Language:
English
Book Information:

When I catch my neighbor trying to steal my cat, I do what anybody would do. I hit him with a spade. That’s when I discover my mild mannered, cute, but boring neighbor is actually an alien. With fur. And claws.
He doesn’t work in finance, either. He’s an interstellar bounty hunter. According to him, I’ve been aiding and abetting a fugitive in the form of my cat, Mr Tiddles. When I refuse to give Mr Tiddles up, I find myself dragged before a merciless alien court.
I have no chance of beating the charges, and the sentence is not what I expected. I become the bounty. I become his chain-kept. I become the alien’s kitty.
Books in Series:

Feral Aliens Series by Loki Renard

Books by Author:

Loki Renard



1 Chasing Kitty

Skoll

“Raindrops on roses…”

“You’re not here for her,” I remind myself. “This is not about her. Ignore her.”

But ignoring her is like trying to ignore the sun. She is everywhere. She is everything. She is the desire I cannot sate, the hunger which makes me starve.

“AND WHISKERS ON KITTENS!” Her sudden shrill tone bursts through the afternoon air. The human I love is doing what she tells her cat is the ‘rock’ version of the song. It seems to amuse her greatly, though she is alone and cannot possibly know she is entertaining anybody besides herself.

This planet smells like meat. I am glad for the mask they make me wear, or else my fangs would be clear to all who see me. The mask means my strangeness is hidden away from the world, and that allows me to hunt among the unsuspecting humans without interference.

This is not my world, and I do not belong here. But the human who lives next door has become a small comfort. Her presence is very much felt in my life though she barely knows I exist. She sings in the shower in the mornings and sometimes in the evenings. When she does, I can hear her quite clearly through the wall, the water running as she warbles happily, unaware that everything she believes her life to be is a lie.

She is pretty, though it is not merely her appearance which draws me to her. She has a pleasing strawberry blonde pelt on her head which curls about her ears and drifts toward her shoulders in a way I find entrancing, and bright blue eyes not so different in color from my own. She has been a distraction throughout my investigation, albeit an unwitting one. I have felt the need to carnally relieve myself many times in the hope it is simple lust which makes me focus on her to the exclusion of all most all other things, but my desires always return. The breeding instinct is strong in me, twisted by this human female.

Her name is Kitty, an irony she does not appreciate and may not ever understand. If I do my job properly, she will never know what happened. In a matter of hours, I will have my prey and I will never see her again. That may be why I cannot keep myself from staring, why I try to drink her in with my gaze. I have never spoken to her, much less touched her. I am not here to sate my appetites. I am here to work. I am here…

“THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS!”

She does not sing in what humans would call tune, but she sings with such gusto and life that I cannot help but be drawn to her. I have noticed she sings that song to herself when she has had a bad day at work. I wonder what happened today. I wonder if she’s dreading Monday. She has a cup with a ginger cat on it who professes to hate Mondays. It is her favorite mug.

I know that because I am a bounty hunter. A private investigator, of sorts. It is my job to notice things like that. It is not a fixation, or an obsession, and it is certainly not unrequited love which tears at my heart day and night, leaving little room in my thoughts for anything besides her.

Still, every time I am in her vicinity, I find my gaze drifting to her. Even now, I am watching her. I should be paying attention to my target, the wily beast who has evaded me for years, and who I am now within a hair’s breadth of catching. He is sitting at the entrance to her property, guarding it for her. He is possessive, as I am, but he is also small and weak, and I will not allow him to outsmart me again. I have his scent — but I also have hers, and hers draws me more primally than his. A bounty is undertaken for money, but this kind of connection, this only comes…

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