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Hey Party People!
For those who don’t know me, I’m A.M. Griffin, avid reader cosplaying as a sci-fi author. I’m taking over Long and Short Reviews to introduce myself. While I’ve written in multiple genres, sci-fi is my first love. I’ve always been curious about space, aliens and life on different planets. As a young girl, I wrote many short sci-fi stories. Or should I say that I “started” many sci-fi shorts (I don’t think I finished any) (this is a no-judgement zone lol). I published my first sci-fi novel in 2012 and haven’t looked back since. That series, Loving Dangerously, will forever hold a special place in my heart and the first in the series, Dangerously Mine, will forever by my favorite book as it’s the first that I’ve finished to completion.
So, what does it take to make a sci-fi author?
Sci-Fi Author Ingredients:
1 cup Introvert
3 cups Weird
6 cups Overactive Imagination
Mix all the ingredients together and season to taste with a pinch of snark, feisty, sleepiness and addiction to doom scrolling through social media. The bake time would depend on the specific individual.
The Hunter. As the new Game Warden, Xrez Ym’ihla brings patrons from across the galaxy to track prey in a game built to enslave the weak and mate the strong. The business is a long running family legacy and Xrez is determined to succeed as his father had before him. He hadn’t meant to let one human occupy his thoughts, mind, and body.
His lies may come back to haunt him, but if he reveals the truth, he’ll ruin his chance to capture the heart of the one he wants.
The Prey. Esme Valdez had her entire life planned from an early age. As a chemist, her life was average and mundane, just the way she liked it. Until the impossible happened. Never did she imagine being abducted by aliens and forced to participate in a survival of the fittest game called The Hunt. If she survives and makes it to the end, she’ll be freed. If not, she’ll be forced to mate the one who captures her.
Esme is determined to win at all costs, even if it means putting her trust in a sexy alien who taunts her in the most delectable way.
Their love was built on betrayal. Can she trust him with her heart and life?
Enjoy an Excerpt
“Property,” she said, finally finishing her sentence. She didn’t recognize anything. Not a God. Damn. Thing. “We aren’t on my property.” Her voice didn’t sound right on her ears.
“So you didn’t kidnap me and give me this fancy new BDSM collar?” He tugged on something about two inches wide and silver around his neck
Esme fumbled at her neck, finding a collar of her own. It felt like metal, not thick, but seemed sturdy and cold on her skin. Her fingers trembled as she followed around the circumference. There wasn’t a way to unhook it. Her breathing picked up. Her chest heaved.
This was wrong. So very wrong.
The man shrugged. “I mean, if you’re into BDSM, I won’t judge you. But as I said, I’m through with all the weird shit.”
Esme clenched her fists in frustration. Tears welled in her eyes. Her heart felt like it was one beat away from exploding. “Hey, nitwit, this isn’t just about you. I think we’re all in the same boat here. I woke up probably the same time you did and just assumed I was home, because,” a hysterical chuckle left her mouth, “where else would I be on a friggin’ Friday night?”
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s Sunday night. I just played Comerica Park in Detroit.”
Esme frowned and shook her head. “No, I’m positive. The last thing I remember is coming home from work and thinking about binging on Netflix. It’s what I do every Friday night.”
He snorted. “Well, that’s sad.”
“Hey! We all can’t play at Comerica Park.” She exhaled loudly. “What is that anyway and why are you dressed like an over the top rock star?”
She’d heard of Detroit, even visited once when she’d lived in the United States to attend college. Her mom had a distant cousin who’d live near the United States and Canada border, and she’d spent a Christmas with them instead of flying all the way home to Mexico.
The rockstar guy brushed off his pants and straightened his clothes. “It’s called ‘stage presence,’ baby.”
“Oh, my God. Can you guys keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep,” came a tired voice from a shadowy corner.
Rockstar guy held up his hand and pulled each finger down slowly.
New guy scrambled to his feet. He was a lot bigger than rock star guy and bigger than most men she knew. He had on army fatigues, military boots, and dog tags hanging from his thick neck. He scowled. “Wait. Where the hell am I?”
Rockstar guy smirked and dropped his hands. “And there it is.”
About the Author: 
A. M. Griffin is a mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.
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