Gooden Nina S. - Luminance Prophecies 1 - Light Can Be Gentle, New folder 1
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Light Can Be Gentle
Luminance Prophecies
Nina S. Gooden
Published 2012
ISBN 978-1-59578-905-1
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509
Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Nina S. Gooden. All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of
the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
Created by desperate scientists within the Forgotten Colonies, Ligers were
engineered for the sole purpose of reuniting humankind with its home planet, currently
overrun by vicious creatures, known as Nihil. However, when an unexplained explosion
forces the debilitated weapons to flee to the arms of their enemies in the military, they
quickly realize they will not be saving the human race anytime soon.
Hagan has always known he was different. He did not belong in the human world but
could never be a part of the struggling Lige. This all changes when a mysterious man
appears, claiming to have what both groups need in order to overcome the creeping threat
of the Nihil.
“Come with me. Trust me. I need you.” His dark, libidinous voice calls to Hagan
from the depths of his psyche. It pulls him forward through an existence he does not want
toward a destiny he fears he cannot fulfill.
It is Hagan who must bridge the gaps between worlds. There is a power hidden
within him, a power that can strengthen the weakened Lige and protect the remainder of
humanity. He is the only one who can fight off the threats they do not see coming and the
extension of both races, but only if he is willing to trust the stranger with his heart and
body.
Dedication
For my daddy, who never flinches when I tell him
what
I write, as long as I do. You
dared me to try, dared me to succeed, and dared me to write out of my comfort zone, and
though you’ll refuse to read it, I know you’ll follow every review.
Chapter One
Reach for me, I’m here. I’m yours, if you’d only see me.
Hagan stretched his arms out to the voice, the same one he’d heard every night in his
fitful sleep for what seemed like years.
Take me.
“I want you. I want this,” he replied, knowing his husky responses wouldn’t reach
past his nose before being swept away, absorbed into the darkness that blinded him.
I’m here. I belong to you.
Frustration beat at his mind even as the black void pressed into and under his golden
tea-brown skin. Invisible fingertips teased his flesh, pulling and stroking until he was
groaning, begging for the release always just beyond his reach.
You belong to me.
Beads of sweat broke out over his body and he sucked in a violent breath as the
blackness began to shift and swirl into something else. Slowlypainfully slowlyhis
eyes adjusted to the changing color and the miasma turned into a mist of gold dust. It
danced across his lips, caressed the smooth, sensitive skin of his back and butt.
Do you want this? Are you sure? Can you handle it?
A familiar, low voice continued to caress him. Warm, sweet breath cascaded over his
body with no true point of origin. He trembled in the air, suspended by invisible hands
that ran down the ridged panels of his abs. Phantom fingers tunneled through his thick
dark hair, leaving his scalp tingling as surely as the rest of him.
You smell good. I wonder if you taste just as nice.
Another kiss was pressed to his neck, hot and promising, only this time he felt the
glide as lips were parted and a tongue stroked along his skin. The breath he was about to
take caught in his chest and morphed into a throaty moan. He reached out to touch it, to
pleasure it in kind, but it slipped against his palms like beads of silky water.
Hagan. Will you find me? Can I touch you?
He gasped into the mist, taking it into his lungs. There had always been this frantic
energy, this desperate tunnel of heat and need he was wrapped around now. But the mist
had never spoken his name; had never known it. Those magic fingers found his nipples
and ran hard knuckles over them until he was pumping his hips into the air.
“Please,” he croaked, all thoughts of pride washed away by the pleasure racing
through his body. “Please, just do it.”
A chuckle thrummed in the air around him and he felt his face flush with heat.
So
sweet. Begging, so pretty.
The fingers at his nipples trailed down to where his twitching cock was wet,
glistening at the tip, and he held his breath, waiting for that moment of sweet contact.
Every inch was sheer torture of anticipation and he found himself whispering words of
praise and promise, anything to keep them moving.
“Almost.” He panted, every muscle strung tight as a bow. “Almost.”
The intercom near Hagan’s head burst to life and he hit the hard springs of his
mattress with a violent thud. Digiscreens he had been studying before falling asleep
bounced in the air and landed with displeased whacks around his room.
Stunned and still painfully aroused, he listened as the mechanical summoning droned
on, a rhythmic intrusion to his erotic fantasy. The voice still echoed in his head, filling his
blood with hot fever, but the alarm continued, forcing his eyes to the clock.
Bright green lights blinked slowly, telling him it was after three in the morning. He
had just decided to ignore the blasted intercom when the privacy light blinked from red to
green.
“Subject 01H, you are needed in Limbo. You have fifteen minutes to get down to
Two-Way or a soldier will be sent to retrieve you.” Hagan’s ears rang with the sharp
command from Captain O’Connor. “Hurry up if you don’t want any casualties.”
Dragging himself out of bed, he lumbered toward the seemingly blank wall on the
other side of the room. A quick slap of his palm against the cool surface opened the
operations panel.
“Shower,” he muttered to the neon lines as the system lit up. The wall obeyed
immediately, shifting seamlessly to reveal a black glass steam shower. “Ten degrees
Celsius, almond oil dispense.”
The blast of frigid water chased away the lingering warmth of the dream. He
shuddered under the freezing water, shaking out the cobwebs of yearning it left beneath
his skin.
He stepped away from the shower just as the intercom began a second round of
annoying beeps. “You have five minutes left.”
“I’m coming, damn it.” He growled to the empty room. “It’s not like you would
actually
kill
one of your precious Lige members.”
As he pulled on a pair of jeans, he got the distinct feeling the room didn’t believe it
any more than he did.
Standing in the welcoming space of his room, Hagan took a fortifying breath.
Leaving his room always made him flinch and this time was no different.
The moment he stepped free of the threshold, he heard the locks click and his heart
rate sped up. He was half tempted to turn right back around, but two soldiers garbed in
black uniforms appeared in the residential hallway.
Shuffling to get away from them, before they could do him harm, he made his way
toward Limbo. The ship was the largest in the fleet hovering above the now uninhabitable
Earth, so he had to pass through a dozen different decks in order to get to the far end
where Captain O’Connor was waiting.
The Mess Hall was full, even at this hour, and he strolled by with an unapproachable
expression. The smells, the clinking of spoons and forks hitting glass, the audible hiss as
the machines rehydrated powdered food, and the incessant hum of low conversation all
made him sick.
He couldn’t stand the thought of forcing himself through another awkward attempt to
acclimate to life on the Nautilus, not that it would help. The soldiers all knew he didn’t
belong. He was different, and they took every opportunity to remind him.
A chill ran up his spine the instant he stepped through the sliding black glass doors
of the deck they called Limbo. A pair of well-armed guards checked his retina scans as
well as his recorded image before letting him through to the frisk. He bore it all with stoic
discomfort, but today there was an additional precaution.
“Just put your hand on the scanner, please,” the attendant for the newest insult of his
personal space muttered when he hesitated. “If you are concerned with the pain, I can get
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