life or death?
Amity knows she can make a life for herself on the mysterious yet phenomenally beautiful Predator Planet. But this mythical legend of the heart mate has her questioning everything. Because she’s a scientist first, and while there are lots of evolutionary reproductive adaptations, she’s never heard of one like this. Yet there’s something about the soft-spoken, creative runner who keeps saving her life. Natheka is handsome, strong, intelligent, and damn if he doesn’t smell intoxicating. He could definitely be a special friend. But those heated glances and practiced hands? He could be so much more. Amity just has to surrender to her feelings. Or die trying.
Hounded on Predator Planet is the long-awaited third book in the Predator Planet series. It contains mild swearing, monster violence, high adventure, slow burn, heated looks, and a steamy hygiene facility scene that will make you swoon. Also fart jokes.
About The Series
Additionally, I had to wonder what a government would resemble if Goddesses ruled the heavens, and so a matriarchal society governed by Elder and Younger Sister-Queens was the logical next step. I have to admit I loved imagining a reverence bordering on fear in the hulking hunter-warriors for all females, but especially these new human interlopers found traipsing across Certain Death.
At the end of the day, even with these otherworldly aspects, the Predator Planet series really touches on what it means to be alive, to be close to death, to love and be loved. I hope you fall in love with the Predator Planet and all its denizens as much as I have.
Dozens of reviews of the Predator Planet books mention the worldbuilding. If you’re the kind of reader who loves full immersion in an alien culture, you’re going to love this series.
When I was crafting the book, I decided to use the exotic celestial bodies to form the basis of the alien culture. What would a race of beings believe about deity if there were two suns and two planets, and if many of the creatures on the planets formed sister-pair bonds?
It wasn’t a leap to imagine that that race would form a religion and mythos revolving around Sister Goddesses, and that they would imbue deep meaning in the cycles they observed both in the stars and in the woods.
“I absolutely loved this book. I read it in less than a day; I just couldn’t put it down! The main character, Esra, is fun, smart, brave, a little quirky, and easy to love, which has you cheering her on from the beginning. The writing is great and the imagery ranged from beautiful to sad to terrifying with it’s amazing detail. The plot was intricate, unique, and compelling. I can’t say enough good things about it. 5 stars. Definitely recommend and will definitely read again!”
Cinnamon Roll Hero
Awkwardly Tender Moments
I crawled out of the mangled and twisted metal that used to be my emergency egress pod into the blinding light. A huge spider web of fractures laced my helmet. With the inner screen bleating alarms and flashing red and yellow lights, I knew the integrity of my suit was compromised.
My left leg had no feeling. I grimaced as I crawled, my leg dragging through the dark gravel of this desolate terrain. I scanned the rocky landscape for a secure place to assess my injuries and the state of my ship. Spying a cave in an outcrop of orange and black rocks, I headed in that direction.
Five feet from the entrance, I gathered a handful of pebbles and tossed them into the opening. I heard them scatter on hard rock, but nothing else. “Let this one thing go right,” I mumbled to myself and crawled inside. My helmet light didn’t work. Grabbing my utility torch from a pants pocket, I shone it inside. It wasn’t much of a cave, but all I needed was seclusion and a defensible position while I figured out what in the ever-living-hell I was going to do now.
With a final cry, I entered the cave, taking care not to bump my injured leg over the rubble at the entrance. The cave was about four feet deep and five feet high. I wouldn’t be able to stand, but something told me my standing days might be on hold. I collapsed against an inner wall where my body was obscured by the rock formation, but I could still see my broken ship.
Smoke billowed out from one of the engines and sparks rained from where the nose cone used to be. That worried me. I shifted on the ground, took a deep breath, and lowered my eyes to my leg. I hissed at the sight. A twisted piece of black metal jutted out from my thigh. That explained the warmth. Two inches farther and I would be bleeding from my femoral artery. Good night, Amity.
“Computer, what’s my location?”
“Your suit’s integrity is compromised. Please return to the EEP for possible emergency treatment.”
“The EEP is busted,” I said. “What’s my location?”
“Unable to comply.”
“What about the nanosatellite array?”
“Unable to comply.”
Dammit. “Computer, where is your hard drive located?”
“I have redundant hard drives located in the nose cone and the insulated buffer trap.”
I craned my neck to see the crumpled pod. The smoke cloud had lessened to a gray ribbon. Well, the nose cone was out. “Where is the insulated buffer trap?”
“Access panel to the insulated buffer trap is located on the flight computer’s side wall.”
The flight computer, comprised of a set of monitors facing the single occupant’s chair and an enclosed processing unit below, normally filled a small desk’s worth of space inside the pod. I recalled climbing straight out from the chair into daylight. Through the non-existent computer panel, to be exact. I tracked the scar on the hill where black metal shards peppered the rocks. If my leg wasn’t permanently skewered, it might be worth scavenging the wreckage, in case the hard drive was salvageable.
“What are your capabilities right now?”
“I am able to assess suit integrity and monitor life support systems. I can also access a large downloaded file found in your helmet’s computer memory. Would you like me to access the file?”
I blew out a breath. “Not yet. My IntraVisor screen has too many cracks. Can you read my vitals out loud to me?”
“Blood pressure is 120 over 80. Your pulse is 87 bpm and your temperature is 97.8 degrees Fahrenheit. Since your landing, I have monitored your vitals for thirteen hours and seventeen minutes, twelve hours, and forty-three minutes of which you were unconscious inside the ship.”
“Great, great,” I muttered while inspecting the metal shrapnel in my leg. “I don’t know that I’d call that a landing, but whatever. Can you tell me how to safely remove a metal shard from my thigh?”
“Scanning suit, please stand by.”
So far, I wasn’t feeling woozy. Once I removed the impaled shard, there were no guarantees. Adrenalin flowed through my veins, and I noticed my vision acuity was amazing. Every detail jumped out at me, from the grain of the rocks to the particulate swirling in the air from my smoking vessel.
“Puncture located two point five inches from your femoral artery. Femoral pressure bladder activated. Please wait.”
I felt a squeeze build in my leg, exactly like a blood pressure cuff.
“Do you have access to your MDpak?” the computer asked.
“Yes,” I said. Tingling began to burn below the wound. My hands shook as I unzipped the pocket with the MDpak.
“Locate the green blister packet.”
“Okay, I have it,” I said. My breathing escalated. I examined the inch-square pouch with a small bio-absorbable nozzle.
“That is the blood clotting agent. When you have removed the object, you will place it in the wound.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do I do first?”
“Use the alcohol wipes to sterilize your gloves or hands, and wipe around the puncture.” The computer said.
I cleaned everything twice. “Okay, computer.”
“Can you shorten the object?”
I looked at my multi-tool. “I don’t have anything that will cut this metal,” I said. “Do I have to shorten it?”
“No. Prepare the blister packet and the wound dressing.”
With heart racing, I forced my shaky hands to unscrew the lid of the nozzle of the blister packet and to cut a length of sterile polymer-infused biodegradable dressing.
“Administering a small dose of analgesic accompanied by a tetanus booster. Please be still,” the computer said. I felt a tiny pinch in my arm. “Grasp the object. If the object is straight, pull out in a smooth motion. If the object is bent, you must work it carefully in each direction. Immediately apply the blister packet and wind the dressing around your thigh.”
“Dios mio,” I moaned as I grasped the metal piece. I had no idea how deep this thing was in my leg, or if it was twisted inside. “Three, two, GAAAHHHH!” My vision swam, but the shard was out and the section that had been embedded looked smooth. Good, no need to dig around in the wound any further. I fumbled the packet but stuffed it into my wound with the nozzle side-down as instructed and sprayed in the coagulate. Then I wept as I wound gauze around my thigh multiple times and secured it. I looked up toward the broken smoking wreckage, and then fell back onto the hard cave floor. “Computer, it just got really dark.”
Book 3 follows the misadventures of Amity Diaz, our exobiologist with a soft spot for the injured and misunderstood, as she is forced to fight her inner nature in order to survive. The real test comes when she must decide what’s worth dying for.
I guess it's the indepth study of each of them that makes this book different. You can't help but feel their self worth and introspection as you read on. You'll feel you know them as friends by the end. Definitely a re-read story.
This is the third of the series and I'm already impatiently waiting for number four.
So completely worth the wait. I enjoyed every minute of it. Love our Hispanic heroine and how it wasn't love at first sight. I love how it was a slow build of trust over time and how she proved to herself she was King of the Hill and didn't have to be rescued. I liked how she actually liked being on Certain Death and wanted to learn more and more about it. I truly can't wait for Book 4 we didn't even get a glimpse at the heroine so I'm excited to see who we get.
About the author.
Ms. Holt has found adventure, solace, escape, and understanding between the pages of books for as long as she can remember, first as a reader, then as an author.
When she’s not frowning at her laptop, she can be found on the shores of Lake Michigan or behind the wheel shuttling kids places or out back making a fire in the fire pit. And more often than not, sharing inappropriate memes on Facebook.
In spite of her love for irreverent humor, she still manages to weave a lot of heart into her novels. Here’s something Esra said in Book 2, Tracked on Predator Planet:
“It kept showing me things about myself,” she said. “The planet and its occupants peeled away layers of my soul. It was uncomfortable. It hurt. But in the end, it revealed my true self.”
Vicky L. Holt
Predator Planet Universe Novella
Buy the Paperback of Hounded on Predator Planet
Exclusive for Newsletter Subscribers!
As a special gift of appreciation for my subscribers, I’m writing this novella that takes place in the same universe as Predator Planet, though its characters, setting, and events are far removed from the actual Predator Planet. A standalone alien romance, it has heart, spice, and a guaranteed HEA.