QSFer Maz Maddox has a new queer (bi/gay) paranormal dinosaur shifter romance out, Relic Book 1: “Smash and Grab.”
My standard issued lab badge reads ‘Simon’ but it really should say ‘unexciting nerd with no social life.’
Don’t get me wrong — I love what I do with a passion, but it doesn’t leave a lot of time for much else.
Especially romance.
While chipping away at my work, I’m suddenly the person between hired cartel muscle and the fossil that will define my career.
Which isn’t the most insane part of the story.
My savior is a chaotic, bat-wielding punk with a bubble gum pink mohawk and a killer smile.
In a mad dash to escape the thieves, my knight in studded armor sweeps me across the country while hitting every tourist trap along the way.
While smuggling a fossil, might I add.
Oh, and did I mention this pink punk can shift into a dinosaur?
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Excerpt
“Holy shit.” I ran my hand over my hair, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “This can’t be real. What…what do we do now?”
“We’re going to head back to my hotel so you can have a panic attack, then we’ll hit the road first thing in the morning.” He gave his stomach a lazy pat. “Plus, I’m starving.”
“Wait.” My head was swimming with all the information dumped on me, along with almost being kidnapped and stealing a fossil from the AMNH. I stopped on the sidewalk and took a long deep breath. The cold spring air nipped at my nose and cheeks, but it wasn’t cold enough for my breath to fog. After letting my blood pressure drop enough for my ears to stop throbbing, I looked at my “knight in spiky armor.”
“Why should I trust you?” I asked simply.
He was standing with his weight on one hip in a casual, lazy way that made him seem bored. His icy eyes watched me with an expression between bored and amused, and I couldn’t tell which one was winning. It was then I realized he had a gun strapped to his ribs under his jacket.
Through all the excitement, I didn’t realize that he was about an inch taller than me, excluding the mohawk which added an extra three or four more inches. He looked young, maybe in his late twenties, with the thin build of a fit athlete and a deadly mischievous smirk.
“Besides the fact that I just went full Negan on those assholes for you?” he asked with a laugh.
“Full what?”
“Walking Dead? C’mon, man. That show’s like ten seasons deep.” He took another pull from his cigarette, stubbed the cherry with his fingers and pocketed the snubbed butt.
“Yeah, I guess besides that.” I rubbed my forehead as the crash started to set in. “Why were you in the lab? How did you know they’d be there? And…where the hell are we going?”
The punk gave a sigh and casually strolled a couple steps closer to close the gap I had placed between us. He titled his head down slightly to catch my eyes and held out his hand.
“I’m Dalton.”
“Simon.” I took his hand, which was warm and dry, and gave it a polite shake. He held on a little longer than I wanted, his lips twitching as I finally pulled my hand free.
“Well, Simon, you got a couple choices.” He made a show of ticking off his fingers as he proceeded with a numbered list. “One, you take your chances on your own and get plucked up in probably a day. Maybe two if you’re crafty. De Leon’s lackies will find you and fly you down to Mexico. While the do have badass street tacos there, De Leon isn’t known for his bedside manner, especially his captives. He’ll make you work for him in prepping that lovely fossil, keep it for himself to show off to his shitty, rich friends, then probably kill you.
“Two, you come with me to Dallas, don’t get killed, still get street tacos, and we’ll get that fossil back to Mongolia where it belongs.” Dalton tucked his hands into his pocket, done with the list. “What sounds good to you?”
I let out a long breath. “Is there a third option?”
“We could elope and run off to Canada together,” he added casually with a shrug. “I hear the summers there are nice.”
“Hypothetically,” I adjusted the fossil case against my chest. “If I went with you, what would happen to me?”
“To Canada? Baby, I’d treat you so nice,” Dalton purred with a wink.
“No,” I said slowly, raising my eyebrows. “To Dallas.”
“Oh.” His spiky shoulders sagged in mock disappointment, which made me rub my temple to fight the inbound headache.
Author Bio
Maz Maddox is the odd lovechild between a unicorn, dinosaur and vampire. The outcome is a human-like figure who inherited aspects of all three. She is a champion of logic and science, adores beauty and whimsy, and has a slight streak of darkness that dances the line of genius and insanity.
Residing in the wild land of cowboy boots and Shiner beer, Maz spends her time with her two dogs and a husband who she adores, and is constantly demanding that science gives her a pocket sized triceratops. The efforts of these demands have yet to be fulfilled.
When she’s not pining over the lack of chihuahua sized ornithischia, she’s a writer who loves crafting adventures tales sprinkled with humor, a hefty helping of romance, and topped with a happy ending.
Website: https://www.mazmaddox.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/maz.maddox.1
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mazmaddox