Can Their Love Reset a Terrifying Future? Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 by USA Today Bestseller @
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Can Their Love Reset a Terrifying Future? Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 by USA Today Bestseller @


Title Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7

Author Pauline Baird Jones

Genre Science Fiction Romance

Book Blurb

She’s a scientist in the wrong galaxy. He’s an alien in the wrong century. Can their love reset a terrifying future?

Dr. Rachel Grant knows her way around the Garradian tech on the Kikk Outpost. But the technology she encounters in an alien medical lab stumps even her brilliant mind. With a little help from her scheming parrot sidekick, she manages to push the right buttons and transport them to an uncharted planet…where they find a recently defrosted alien, who heats up Rachel.

Valyr wasn’t going to warm up to the bright-eyed scientist anytime soon…not after she pried centuries of cryosleep from his cold fingers. But waking up in the wrong century is nothing compared to the robots targeting his still-frozen team. And their situation only gets worse when he discovers the spiderweb of destruction trailing in the robots’ wake. With their backs against the wall, Valyr is blown away by Rachel’s determined passion in the face of impossible odds… but they’ll need more than a chemical reaction to survive what is headed their way.

Lost Valyr is the seventh standalone book in the explosive Project Enterprise sci-fi romance series. If you like heart-pounding chemistry, ragtag bands of misfits, and action-packed space battles, then you’ll love Pauline Baird Jones’ rollicking romance.

Buy Lost Valyr to defrost a fast-paced interstellar love story today!

Special Giveaway

Readers can get the first book (The Key) for free by signing up for my newsletter: https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/submit/d0d8x4

Excerpt

The fog inside his head was dotted with small lights. Somehow he knew the lights held answers. But when he strained toward them, they danced back, their light dimming. He tried to relax and let the lights come to him, but only the sound reached him. His eye twitched with each hammer blow.

His head moved, but the edge of the small…space he was in, it blocked his view. He shifted and realized then that something held him loosely in place. He shifted harder, heard a sucking sound as his back pulled clear.

He lifted his hand again, flexing fingers, watching how they moved at his command. It was his hand, attached to his arm. But the connection didn’t feel complete. He traced the lines in the palm. There was a small scar down from the thumb. He knew it, but at the same time wondered why it was there. They could fix scars, could they not. They?

He moved his legs now. The joints felt stiff. Moving them sent pain shooting across his nerve ends, but the pain was positive. He leaned forward, freeing his lower back and buttocks. He gripped the edge. What was it? It was a chamber—now he could see the viscous substance that had supported him. More not knowing-knowing. More chill air reaching more of his body.

All of him.

He’d gone into this place without raiment, so of course, he would emerge in the same state. He did not yet recall why the requirement to put aside his raiment, but he had certainty he would remember. He felt it even as knowing stayed just out of reach. It was a process—

The word triggered a response in one of the fog lights in his mind. He looked around and saw the bank of personal storage spaces. In there he would find coverings for his body. He pulled his leg free and stepped down, the floor solid and cold against the bare sole of his foot. His knee began to buckle. He deployed his other leg and managed to stay upright. He held on to the door frame until knees steadied.

Hunger. Thirst. He needed to eat and drink. Another light opened like a packet of instructions, lining up behind the one about raiment. None of the memories told him how to turn off the sound. It seemed to come at him from all directions.

He frowned. There was a pattern in the sound and behind it…like a metronome tapping or…ticking. Ticking. One of the lights flickered inside his mind, but it did not open.

Too soon…

You are not ready.

Whose voice said that? It was not his own. And other words clouded the issue. The words in the sounds. In Standard. Something about girls wanting to have fun? No wonder his thoughts would not order.

He frowned and let go of the chamber side so that he could rub his chilled arms. That is when he noticed the line of chambers marching off into the shadows. He looked left and found the same. Chambers? He turned around and looked up, feeling a different type of chill, one that started in his core and moved out to join the other cold. He touched the viscous stuff that had held him…suspended.

Asleep.

Memory released the distant sound of voices, a reassuring murmur. Where were they now? Why am I alone in my waking? It mattered though he could not recall who should be here with him. Or why he’d gone to sleep in this…cryo-chamber. He knew the word but did not perfectly understand what it meant, other than sleep.

Cold sleep.

Long sleep.

That was the reason for his lack of raiment. The faces, the voices explaining the process were still lost in the fog, their voices hard to hear. The long sleep explained why they were gone. Long gone…

How long?

Why had his chamber released only him?

The sound pulsed, drowning out the answer his brain tried to supply. Pieces of thought floated randomly in his memory, trying to form into something whole, something he could recognize. He deliberately slowed his breathing. Instead of reaching for what was out of his grasp, he turned back to the room.

What did he know?

He was not dead.

He did not dream.

His name was…

He moved on from that for now. He felt strangely certain more—all would return in time. Time. Strange to feel so disconnected from time, so lost…

The din moderated somewhat, and now he heard the echo of footsteps hitting stone in synch with the thumping beat. They had not left him to wake completely alone. Only now, with relief surging through him, did he realize how tense he’d held himself. His shoulders hunched, his hands curled into fists. For a few seconds he wished he’d taken time to clothe himself, but more than coverings he desired to know he was not alone…that he was not lost…

The hatch slid back and in the opening he saw…

An avian?

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Author Biography

Pauline never liked reality, so she writes books. She likes to wander among the genres, rampaging like Godzilla, because she does love peril mixed in her romance. She found out on Twitter that Goodreads says she died in 1999. She’s a bit miffed no one told her. And since she’s dead, but not gone, you can see her as the Dead Author Live on Facebook or her YouTube Channel.

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