Guest: Cara Bristol Brings Her Warrior
I’m delighted to have fellow sci-fi spanking romance writer, Cara Bristol, on my blog today, as part of her blog tour for her new book, Warrior (Breeder 3). I’ve read the first two Breeder books and they are awesome. I highly recommend anything you see with Cara Bristol’s name on it, whether sci-fi or otherwise. The spankings will delight you while you’re wrapped up in the universes she creates and the characters she builds.
Here’s a little blurb about Warrior (Breeder 3):
A female fighting for freedom. A male armed with determination. Can they save their people?
As a despotic Qalin marches through Parseon intent on conquering every province, Commander Marlix pledges his sister to another Alpha to protect her. Desperate to decide her own fate, Anika flees and finds refuge with the guerilla resistance movement against Qalin. Marlix’s aide Urazi hunts her down to bring her home to fulfill her duty. But when love blossoms between them, and provinces fall to Qalin, Anika and Urazi realize home has ceased to exist, and they are all that stand between the people of Parseon and the end of the world.
Warrior is the third and final book of the Breeder science fiction romance series, but it can be read as a stand-alone.
I’ll bet you’d like an excerpt too. Well here ya go:
“Hold steady. Grip the stock from below with your left hand. Do not get in the way of the bolt.” Grogan stepped so close, his hardened manhood prodded Anika’s left flank. She gritted her teeth, and considered dropping her trigger finger to reach into her boot for Tara’s knitting needle.
Yes. Hold steady now, Grogan.
“Line your target between the crosshairs.”
Target in sight. Anika closed her left eye and peered through the scope with her right at the life-size outline of a male sketched in soot on an unrolled parchment scroll tacked to a tree fifty meters away. Focused on the round smudge, center torso.
Grogan pressed his stiffened manhood into the crease of her buttocks. “Squeeze…the trigger.”
Anika superimposed her instructor’s likeness onto the faceless target and discharged the bolt. The string recoiled with a pop and released the arrow. With satisfying thunk, it embedded in the target. Lowering her weapon, Anika stepped out of range of the alpha and strode to examine the result.
Right through the heart.
“Fair. For a female,” Grogan judged.
She compared her results—dead center—with Grogan’s. He’d missed the middle completely, hitting outside the outline. Perhaps the weight of his erection had unbalanced his shot.
She marched to the starting line with Grogan dogging her heels, flinging advice as wild as his aim. She shot better than every male of the Resistance, but walked a precarious path, awakening each morn to wonder if this would be the day she would fall prey to her compatriots. To Grogan, who had singled her out for special training.
But joining the Guerilla Resistance against Qalin and Artom was preferable to facing what lay outside the camp. Anika shuddered.
After leaving Marlix’s abode, she’d roamed the countryside for a week before she’d straggled into the militia group attempting to defeat Qalin and Artom. Their secret weapon?
Breeders. No one would suspect a female of being an armed fighter.
But her instructor saw no reason to abandon the old use for females. Thus far she’d dodged him, but her luck and his patience could not last much longer.
“Many females can hit the target, but few have the strength you do to cock the bowstring. You are the best female shooter by far,” Grogan conceded, his praise falling short of recognizing her true ability.
“You have trained enough for one day. Let us retire to the camp,” Grogan said. “You may bring me the midday meal.” He peered at the sky. The star of Parseon hovered overhead, its heat barely reaching the atmosphere to edge the temperature over freezing. But the chill provided an excuse to layer on multiple articles of clothing. The inconvenience of removal had saved her on more than one occasion. Still, a clothing barrier offered scant protection. Some males—Grogan—viewed impediments as a challenge.
“I feel as though I need more practice.” She peered at him from beneath downcast lashes and slumped her shoulders in a pretense of self-effacement. “May I please try one more time?”
Usually the number of people milling around afforded opportunity to avoid or divert him.
But, today, the alphas had formed two teams and split up, one group hunting for small game, another sent on reconnaissance. The females had been ordered to forage for whatever they could find to replenish the dwindling food stores. Only she—by Grogan’s command—remained in camp.
She jabbed the crossbow nose onto the ground and stepped on the metal cocking stirrup.
“You have practiced enough for one day.” Temper edged his voice.
Anika pulled back the bowstring until it locked, extracted a bolt from the quiver, and slipped it into the flight groove. Cocked and loaded, the crossbow had to be fired, for it was too dangerous to leave a loaded weapon lying about. A bump or a jolt could discharge the projectile. She raised the crossbow to shoulder height, slipped her finger off the metal guard, and caressed the trigger.
“Did you hear what I said?” Grogan’s tone sharpened. “Look at me when I speak to you!”
She snapped a sharp pivot. Through the scope, the crosshairs formed a perfect X on his chest.
His eyes bulged in alarm, and he stumbled over his feet.
Even Grogan could not fail to hit a target at such close range.
“I heard what you said,” Anika replied before turning to the parchment target and pulling the trigger. Th-th-thunk! Her bolt landed next to the previous one. Dead center. Again. She lowered the weapon.
Grogan seized her arm in a bruising grip and yanked her around to face him. “Never point a loaded weapon at me! Do you understand?” He shook her.
Anika took stock of her instructor’s reddening complexion, the slight tremor of his body, the decreased bulge in his uniform pants. Satisfaction swelled, but she bowed her head. “I apologize, alpha. When you ordered me to look at you, I had no thought but to obey.”
Stars exploded under the impact of his fist.
Oh my! That sure got my attention!
Cara Bristol continues to evolve, adding new subgenres of erotic romance to her repertoire. She has written spanking romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction romance. No matter what the genre, 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.
You can reach her here: