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  B Clones

  Clones – Book One

  By Laurann Dohner

  B Clones

  by Laurann Dohner

  Big

  Gemma is a divorced mother of two adult sons. She also is dying in a hospital after a tragic accident. They’re giving her the good drugs to manage her pain, which is why she’s dreaming about waking in the future with a twenty-year-old body and meeting a hot space pirate. Big claims he’s a clone, and she’s one too. What happens when Gemma’s dream turns out to be reality?

  Blade

  Hailey’s been kidnapped off her mining colony planet and is trapped onboard a luxury space shuttle with the bad men who took her. She manages to lock herself inside the captain’s cabin, hoping to be rescued. But it’s not the authorities who hack the lock. It’s a clone. Blade admits to being a space pirate, but he swears he’s going to keep her safe. He may be attractive…but can a clone also be trustworthy?

  Clones Series List

  B Clones

  B Clones by Laurann Dohner

  Copyright © December 2020

  Editor: Kelli Collins

  Cover Art: Dar Albert

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-950597-16-1

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, except for the case of brief quotations in reviews and articles.

  Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  B Clones

  Clones – Book One

  By Laurann Dohner

  Big

  Prologue

  Why am I in a hospital? Gemma tried to catch the doctor’s gaze but he refused to look at her. He seemed too interested in reading her chart. When he finally closed it and stepped away from her bed, he looked at everything except her.

  Dread pitted in her stomach.

  The machines beeped and the sound of voices came from the hallway. It was difficult to move her head but she managed to raise her arm. It was completely swathed in white, bulky bandages, including her hand.

  The doctor finally looked at her. His grim expression assured her she must be in bad shape.

  “What happened?” Her words came out raspy and harsh.

  “A gas line ruptured inside the hotel restaurant where you were, and it caused an explosion. There are still investigators on the scene, but that’s what we know so far.”

  She remembered then. She’d gone to have lunch with one of her oldest and dearest friends, who’d flown into Los Angeles. They met every February. She’d just stepped up to the hostess stand when a loud noise sounded. Something hit her hard, then there had been a lot of heat. She’d passed out…until just now, when she woke in the hospital.

  “Did anyone die?”

  He glanced away but then back. “A lot of people did.”

  The very idea was horrific. “Do you know anything about my friend, Tina Miller? She was staying at the hotel,” she got out, tears forming.

  “I don’t have a list of survivors or fatalities. I’m sorry. You suffered severe burns over eighty percent of your body, Gemma. That is you, correct? You’re Gemma Grady?”

  Eighty percent. Oh god. That isn’t good. “Yes.”

  “You managed to keep hold of your purse. It was with you when you were discovered. They brought it in, but I needed to confirm your identity. Your family has been contacted.” He glanced at the chart again. “Both of your sons and your ex-husband are on their way.”

  They had even called her ex. That was significant. “Am I dying?”

  The doctor held her gaze, and she saw a flash of regret. He hesitated for far too long before he spoke. “We’re doing everything we can for you.” He withdrew something from his pocket and moved out of her line of sight. “I had to wake you to verify your identity. The nurse is going to up your meds to keep you comfortable. Your family should be here soon. I’m sorry this happened to you, Ms. Grady.”

  He fled, and Gemma had no doubt from his behavior that her fate was grim.

  It’s not fair.

  She stared up at the ceiling, struggling to take it all in. It helped knowing that, overall, she’d had a good life. Fifty-six years weren’t nearly enough, though.

  Images of her two sons flashed through her mind and her tears spilled over. She needed to hang on until they reached her side, to tell them one more time that they were loved. She’d regret never seeing either one of them getting married, or never holding a grandbaby.

  Thoughts of her friend Tina came next. Gemma had arrived a few minutes early for their lunch. She knew her friend’s room had been on the sixth floor of the hotel, and Tina always tended to run a bit late. It was a running joke between them. There was a chance that Tina hadn’t been caught in the explosion.

  Her best friend had six kids, three young grandchildren, and was adored by her high school sweetheart husband.

  Gemma decided in that moment to be grateful she didn’t know one way or another. It meant she could pretend Tina hadn’t been hurt…or worse.

  A nurse entered the room and leaned over her. “You’re awake.” Sympathy softened her features. “Are you in pain?”

  “No.”

  “We’re going to keep it that way.”

  “I love my sons,” she blurted.

  “I’m certain they know that. Are you having any trouble breathing?”

  “My face feels strange.”

  “It’s the bandages.”

  My face is burned. How bad?

  It doesn’t matter. I’m dying.

  The nurse peered at the door. “I think your meds are here— Wait! Get out!” The nurse rushed toward the door, and Gemma managed to turn her head.

  A man in his late twenties snapped pictures with a large camera. The nurse grabbed at it and shoved him into the hallway. She then reentered, closing the door behind her.

  “I’m so sorry about that. Some of those vultures from the tabloids are sneaking past security to take pictures.”

  “Pictures?”

  The nurse lowered her voice. “That famous singer was at the hotel, too. You have the same name. They must have listed you on the board at the nurses’ station and he thought you were her. I’ll have them take it down and ask security to watch your door.”

  Gemma was familiar with the singer. Her sons joked all the time about their mom sharing her name. It wasn’t her type of music though, and the woman was much younger. “Is she going to be okay?”

  The nurse hesitated. “She didn’t make it. We haven’t released that information yet to the news outlets. Her people will do that.” The nurse checked the monitors. “You just hang in there, Gemma.” She looked up and smiled. “Ah. Here we go. I’m going to add medication to your IV line. This will make you feel really good and help you sleep until your sons arrive.”

  Gemma closed her eyes. She needed to think of a way to say goodbye to her precious boys. Brent had just graduated law school. He’d be okay. Thomas was another matter. He’d already switche
d his college major twice. It didn’t matter to her what he decided to do with his life, as long as it made him happy. She’d told him that before, but she wanted to reinforce it one last time when he arrived.

  A coldness suddenly swept up her arm. She felt lightheaded and almost drunk. Then the pain medication put her to sleep.

  Chapter One

  A blaring alarm jerked Gemma awake. She stared up at what appeared to be smooth metal, inches above her face. There was a dim light source along her sides.

  She lie in what felt like a coffin. It was an enclosed, tight space.

  She gasped and began to panic.

  I’m alive. Don’t bury me!

  She wiggled her arms free from where they seemed pinned at her sides and shoved upward, a scream trapped in her throat.

  A lid slid to the side, and the light grew brighter as the opening widened. She used her feet now, too, kicking at the heavy top.

  It moved farther and the siren noise grew louder. When she was able to sit up—Gemma gaped in shock when she got a look at her surroundings.

  It wasn’t a funeral home. There were no flowers, tasteful decorations, or chairs.

  It was a room that reminded her of a mini warehouse, with lots of rectangular metal boxes like her own, strapped to the floor and lining the walls.

  “What in the hell?”

  A slight motion came from her right, and she gawked at the…thing that rolled into the room. It wasn’t human.

  It looked like someone’s overpriced science project. It appeared humanoid with a head, chest, and arms, but the lower half consisted of a square box on wheels.

  It turned her way.

  “Lie flat and allow me to reseal your unit,” the emotionless voice ordered.

  It lifted robotic arms—and Gemma freaked out.

  She shrieked and batted at the thing with her fists. It avoided contact by dropping its arms and going in reverse a few feet.

  “Your unit has accidentally been triggered to open. It was an error caused by a harsh impact with a shuttle,” the thing stated. “Lie flat and I will reseal you.”

  Gemma gripped the side of the coffin-like box and frantically scrambled out. Her feet were bare, and the floor felt icy cold when she landed on shaky legs. “Stay away from me. What are you?”

  “I’m a service repair unit. Your shipping unit triggered in error. Return to it now.”

  “No.” She inched away from the robot and glanced at the large box. It was some weird coffin, alright. A raised one with vents on the bottom, and made from silver material that appeared to be a mixture of plastic and metal. “Where am I? What’s going on?” She looked back at the…robot.

  “You’re aboard the space transport Avian and we’ve been attacked by pirates.”

  She let that sink in. Space transport? Pirates? Freaky robot? She lowered her chin, staring at her body, and immediately suffered another shock. “Where are my clothes?”

  Gemma currently wore a pair of underwear and a matching, form-fitting sports bra.

  And the surprises kept coming…because her stomach was also flat.

  She took the time to study her arms and hands. There were no age spots, no excess skin.

  She reached up, touching her face. Closing her eyes, she examined it with her fingertips, feeling no loose skin or wrinkles. She opened her eyes and looked down again, this time staring at her thighs. They were thin and shapely. Hers hadn’t looked that good in at least twenty-seven years, since before her first pregnancy.

  “Return to your unit,” the robot stated.

  Gemma straightened, staring at the thing. She was confused—but then it suddenly made sense. She could almost feel the mental lightbulb coming on.

  “Oh! This is a dream. I’m on the good drugs.” She bit her lip, remembering her most recent reality. “I’m dying in a hospital.”

  The annoying alarm stopped, and Gemma felt a trickle of fear. Maybe that alarm had been her heart monitor going off in real life. “Are you my little voice of unconsciousness? Is getting back in the unit a metaphor for not leaving my body?”

  “You need to return to your unit.”

  She looked at the horrible box with its thick lid. She didn’t want to die yet. She needed to talk to Brent and Thomas. But it was just too terrible to consider getting back inside something that she’d mistaken for a coffin. “No. I’m fine right here. I’m still alive. I wouldn’t be having this weird dream otherwise.”

  “Pirates are preparing to board the transport. You need to be secured,” it stated.

  “Shit.” She’d had some bizarre dreams before, but this one took the cake.

  “I don’t detect a waste malfunction.”

  It took her a second to understand what the robot was trying to say. “I didn’t soil my underwear. At least I hope not. That nice nurse would have to clean me, and I liked her.” She reached back to run her hand over the butt of the little boy-short type of underwear she wore. They felt dry. “I think I’m good.”

  “You need to return to your unit.”

  “You need to stop saying that. I’m not getting back into the box, even if that is supposed to be my body.”

  The robot advanced and lifted its hands. Both of them had six fingers, three on either side of the center palm areas. It attempted to grab her.

  She retreated quickly to keep space between them. “Back off, science project!”

  It stopped. “Return to your unit to be secured.”

  Gemma took a deep breath and tried to wake. It happened sometimes; she’d become aware of having a dream and snap out of it if she concentrated hard enough.

  Nothing changed. That irritated her.

  “Fantastic. I’m really doped up.”

  “You need to follow my orders to prevent being stolen or damaged.”

  She stared at the freaky robot. “Okay… I get it. I have to play along before I can wake up?” Then she muttered, “Why couldn’t I dream that I’m on some sunny beach, sipping one of those fruit drinks with the cute umbrellas?”

  “The door to the cargo bay is being breached.” The robot spun its upper body around and slowly began to roll away.

  Gemma hesitated for a second before she followed.

  It stopped by a big metal door. “The pirates are hacking the locks.” The robot rolled back a few feet from the door.

  “Great. Space pirates and a freaky robot. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’m dying, I also get stuck with this lemon of a dream?” She glanced down her body. “And of course I’m wearing a skimpy outfit that screams ‘attack me.’ This dream better not turn into something like that. If there is, I’m going to file a complaint in the afterlife.”

  “The pirates have succeeded. The manual override is being triggered to unseal the door.”

  “What do you do when space pirates attack in this hellish dream world? Tell me so this can end, robot.”

  “Unknown.”

  “You’re a lot of help.”

  “I’m detecting sarcasm in your tone,” the robot stated.

  “No shit, Sherlock! That’s what I’m going to start calling you.”

  “I’m not able to process your request.”

  “I just want to wake from this bullshit of a dream. You’re a crappy version of my little voice of reason. Epic fail.”

  The door slid open—and Gemma’s lips parted when she got her first glimpse of the supposed pirate.

  He had to be at least six-foot-five, and he wore a black uniform that hugged a bodybuilder’s physic. His equally black hair fell in a shaggy mass of curls to his wide shoulders. He had a ruggedly handsome face. Dark blue eyes framed by long, thick eyelashes gazed directly at her.

  Gemma liked the look of him. “Wow. Now we’re talking. Hello, Mr. Hunk.”

  “My name is Big. And I will shoot you if you make any sudden movements.” His voice came out husky and deep. He lifted a weapon and aimed it at the robot.

  It was the strangest gun she’d ever seen, with a thick, long barrel. She wasn’t
afraid in the least. “If that’s not an innuendo, I don’t know what is. Oh please. Shoot me with your impressive gun, Mr. Big-All-Over pirate.” She laughed and shook her head. “I must be as high as a kite right now. This is turning downright naughty.”

  The hunk slightly tilted his head and shifted his gaze to the robot. “I was threatening the droid. Why is she awake? Answer, droid.”

  “The clone activated during transit and is confused,” the robot answered.

  Gemma sighed, staring at the hot guy. “Shoot that robot. Please. It’s annoying as hell. It’s been my nemesis since this nightmare started. I’d be grateful.”

  “Be silent, female,” the pirate demanded, his voice deepening. “I know what she is. Explain her origins, droid.”

  “Sure. I’ll just shut up.” Gemma crossed her arms over her chest. “No problem. I don’t want to be here anyway. It’s my dream, but please, continue without me.”

  “She was ordered by Mr. Florigo,” the robot stated.

  “What is her name and designation?”

  “Gemma Grady. She is Mr. Florigo’s favorite singer.”

  Gemma snorted. “Ah. That’s what triggered this crazy dream. It was that paparazzi guy snapping a photo of me.”

  The pirate shifted his gaze to her. “You’re a singer?”

  “No. I can’t carry a tune to save my life.”

  “You are a twenty-first century singer,” the robot insisted.

  Gemma spun on the thing. “I know who I am! I’m fifty-six years old and currently lying in a hospital bed waiting to tell my sons goodbye. A gas line blew inside a hotel. Big boom. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. This is a drug-induced nightmare that I want to wake from.”

  “Damn.” The pirate came forward, lowering his weapon. “How was the original source material for this clone obtained?”

  “All clone source materials are frozen after the death of a body,” the robot stated.

  Gemma winced hearing the callous robot’s description. “And it gets worse. Big surprise. Now we’re talking dead bodies. And did you say clone? Fantastic. Outer space, ships, an annoying robot, a sexy pirate, and now clones. I never understood why people take drugs on purpose. This is some messed-up shit.”