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Okay, time to try something else. Claude’s fingers flew over the keys and entered the name of the Atalante Consulting Agency in San Francisco, owned by Princess Inanna with her five psychic sons. Again he came up empty-handed. After a few more minutes of unsuccessful searching, he slumped in defeat. If only he could remember where he put that damn small Transkip device he’d had when this whole unreal adventure begun. Without it, he couldn’t go back to the hidden moon city of Azadi to look for her there.
Claude shut the lid of his laptop with a slap and went back into the bedroom. He glared at the open suitcase mocking him. Damn thing taunted him, knowing it wasn’t going anywhere.
“On Today’s Production, we’re excited to share with you an exclusive interview with the head screenwriter of the new Miracle Comic Book movie franchise you’re dying to see. As I’m sure you all know, we’ve tried for years for a chance to speak with her. And I couldn’t be more thrilled she’s agreed to talk to us live as they wrap up the last day of the shoot.”
Shit. Why did he have the damn TV on? Oh yeah, he wanted the noise to keep him company. Now it was just irritating. He searched the bed for the remote. Dammit, where’d he put the stupid thing? He crouched to check under the bed. The only thing greeting him there were balls of dust bunnies. Maybe under the nightstand… Ah, there it was…
“The latest installment in this brilliant series is geared to be a love story filled with action and supernatural adventure. This is Amata Lamont, the famed screenwriter of this great new production in Atlanta. Ms. Lamont, how did you ever think of this exciting new twist to the comic book universe?”
A familiar female voice tinkled with laughter.
When that sound hit him, he jerked up and banged his head on the open drawer of the nightstand. “Fuck!” He crawled from under the furniture, rubbing the back of his bruised noggin.
“How does anybody come up with anything? A little inspiration mixed with a lot of imagination.”
Claude stilled. As her silky voice slid over him, he swore his heart stopped. He plopped his ass on the floor and faced the TV.
There she was. The most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Not that anyone could see much of her face since she wore dark sunglasses and a wide, brimmed, beach hat.
The interview was taking place outside in the bright sunshine.
While folks might assume she wore those to protect her from the harmful rays of the sun, he knew it was to hide her otherworldly turquoise eyes and stunningly youthful appearance.
The breathless voice of the bubbly brunette host continued. “The new characters you’ve introduced, Clayton and Amanda, are fresh and exciting! It’s a well-known fact neither one of the actors portraying them vowed to never work with each other again. Did you have anything to do with getting those popular actors to agree to work together? Much less star in a fantasy story that relies heavily on a romantic theme. How’d you do it?”
Whatever answer Amata gave went over his head. The main characters in her story were called Clayton and Amanda? When screenshots of the popular actors the interviewer talked about popped up, in character, he sucked in a breath. The male actor could’ve been his twin. And the female was a mature, stunning woman with Amata’s distinctive coloring. The only difference was her eyes were a sparkling emerald green instead of turquoise.
“And there you have it, folks! Your first look at Alien Invasion: A Love Story, out in theaters next summer.” The camera swung in for a close-up of the aging host who was fast losing the battle of encroaching mid-life. Too bad the most recent face-lift didn’t help. “Next up, the pop singer who wants to give it all up to crochet his life away!”
Wait. Didn’t she say the shoot was wrapping up today? Son of a bitch! He ran back to his home office and flipped open the laptop. With deft fingers, he booked a two-hour flight to Atlanta and secured a rental car to take him to the famed Fayetteville Pinewood Studios just south of Atlanta. If his luck held, he’d find Amata before she disappeared like the rest of the aliens who had been on Earth.
* * *
Amata was more than ready to wrap up the interview with Today’s Production. While the host, Eliza Markel, was nice enough, being in the spotlight unnerved her. Especially since humans developed advanced technologies that kept her image forever with a touch of a button. It wasn’t like the old days, when she could disappear from an area for a hundred years and not worry about anybody recognizing her. She sighed. Now that her adopted daughter Jordyn was happily married to Princess Inanna’s son, Michael, and with Sub Prince Murduk out of the picture, it was time to think about what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
The unbidden image of Claude Reese made her mouth tighten. She couldn’t deny the instant attraction she had for the human, but the unexpected feelings he brought weren’t welcome. Look what happened the last time she took a chance at loving one of them. It didn’t end well. A romance with Claude wouldn’t be any different. Their lifespans were so incompatible; contemplating a relationship with him would be the height of lunacy.
Auntie? You busy?
Jordyn’s newest habit of talking to her telepathically made her jump. She hated this psychic shit. Why can’t you use a phone like normal people?
“I’m really thankful that you took the time to talk to me today, Amata.” Eliza Markel stood and held out her hand.
Oh right, she was in the middle of ending a live televised interview.
Amata stood as well and shook the offered hand. “It was my pleasure.” Jordyn’s light laughter in her mind made her grit her teeth. When she tried to pull her hand away, the hostess jerked her closer.
“I know it’s not in your contract, but what do you say about doing another interview when the movie comes out next year?” The woman’s brown eyes blazed with fanatical intensity.
What a pushy bitch! You want me to zap her for ya? Amata didn’t doubt Jordyn could send an electrical current through her to sting the host’s hand.
She ignored Jordyn’s offer since she dealt with Eliza’s type all the time without resorting to violence. Even though some days it’d be worth it. With a yank, she pulled away. She clenched her hand to keep from wiping her palm over her trousers. “Have your people talk to my people. We’ll see what we can do.”
Eliza’s artificially plump lips didn’t dare crease into a frown, but her eyes narrowed. “Sounds good. I can’t wait to see you then.”
The only way she’d do another interview was if the studio put it in her contract. Which they hadn’t. Thank the Goddess she wasn’t obligated to do any more. Eliza would just have to be satisfied with speaking to the stars of the movie. And because both were egomaniacal narcissists, the entertainment show would get their money’s worth from them without her.
After giving the woman a professional nod, she turned and headed to her private trailer. The back of her neck warmed as if someone watched her. Glancing behind her, she saw nothing unusual.
