Ski gloves

Life as a female fighter pilot with the Valox resistance isn't always easy, but it gets much worse when my ship dies on a solo mission. It gets even worse when I'm rescued by hulking, bare-chested aliens who are nothing like the Vandar I fought with against the empire. The Vandar horde that snatches me from my ship might wear the battle kilts and inked skin of their counterparts, but they have no intention of treating me like an ally—or releasing me.

As the daughter of a traveling chef, I grew up flitting around different galaxies, immersing myself in fascinating cultures, and rubbing noses with socialites. Coming to Krynn was a new chapter, a permanent place to finally call home. But when tragedy strikes and I’m suddenly alone, broke, and desperate, I take work at a dyaan. An establishment where the Kylorr—blood-drinking, winged, fearsome aliens with berserker-like rages—come to feed on willing necks to satisfy their fierce hunger.

I’m getting married today, and I’m so freaking depressed. My bridal gown is exquisite. The ring is enormous. But my groom is evil personified, and I’m being forced into this doomed marriage. I’m seconds from breaking into a full-on ugly cry. And right then, as if by magic, the church doors burst open. Women scream and children scramble as a huge, satanic-looking alien stomps down the aisle, flicking his tail, flashing flames, and wreaking chaos in his wake. He’s looking right at me. “Charlotte Cruz?"