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Holiday on Planet Jolieterre: A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, #1
Holiday on Planet Jolieterre: A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, #1
Holiday on Planet Jolieterre: A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, #1
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Holiday on Planet Jolieterre: A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, #1

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Nova Skylar is tired of her dead end job as cruise ship nurse aboard the Entitled, an interstellar pleasure vessel. She’s looking forward to a long-awaited vacation on Joliterre with her human lover when an attack by space pirates ruins her plans. 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 10, 2014
ISBN9780989365345
Holiday on Planet Jolieterre: A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, #1
Author

Linda Collison

Linda Collison's first novel, Star-Crossed, published by Alfred A. Knopf in 2006, was chosen by the New York Public Library to be among the Books for the Teen Age - 2007, and inspired the Patricia MacPherson Nautical Adventure Series. Born in Baltimore, Linda moved to Wyoming when she was twenty-four and had been on the move ever since.

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    Book preview

    Holiday on Planet Jolieterre - Linda Collison

    Holiday on Planet Jolieterre

    A Nova Skylar Space Nurse Adventure, Volume 1

    Linda Collison

    Published by Fiction House, Ltd., 2014.

    This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

    HOLIDAY ON PLANET JOLIETERRE

    First edition. February 10, 2014.

    Copyright © 2014 Linda Collison.

    ISBN: 978-0989365345

    Written by Linda Collison.

    Table of Contents

    Holiday on Planet Jolieterre

    For my fellow nurses of all genders and species who work in the trenches of healthcare throughout the known universe.

    Holiday on Planet Jolieterre

    The Delta-class star cruiser Entitled had just departed the port of Omarion, crammed with Packars on a two-week holiday, ready to eat and drink their way to oblivion.  I was working back-to-back cruises, eager for my short leave on Jolieterre – and a tryst with Randy, my human boyfriend, whom I hadn’t seen in ages.  It should have been an easy run, but less than forty-eight hours into the cruise, the call came and everything started to go to shit.

    It all started when passenger Benjamin Proud, owner of a small arms-manufacturing company, collapsed at the dinner table.  His fork halfway to his mouth, he fell forward, as if he had been shot in the back, planting his face into a mountain of Chantilly cream.  Red wine splattered, like blood, across the white tablecloth. 

    Proud, like most Packars, was a man who lived to eat.  But at the tender age of 64, Benjamin Proud had taken his last bite –and his last holiday cruise. 

    Doug Robbins, my colleague, had just joined me for supper in the employee cafeteria when we got the call. 

    Medical emergency; type unknown. Sector three, Level Five, Andromeda Dining Room. Table 3-5-4, Lucy, the computerized dispatcher, informed us through our cochlear communicators. Doug stuck his finger in his ear and grimaced. Repeat: Medical Emergency. Level Five, Sector Three, Andromeda Dining Room. Table 3-5-4.

    Doug looked at me and I looked at him; our thoughts were one.  No dinner for us. We dropped our forks, grabbed our medical kits, abandoned our plates of steaming hash, and sprinted down the corridor, bypassing the broken transporter, not bothering with the unreliable elevators, instead taking the emergency stairs – two at a time – all the way to Level Five.  We burst into the Andromeda Dining Room.  The sound of a thousand forks and knives, and the roar of conversation nearly drowned out the electronic music of a virtual string quartet.

    When we arrived huffing and puffing at table 354, the man’s massive body had found its angle of repose.  Mr. Proud had fallen off his platform into a corpulent heap face purple – pupils blown – his dinner napkin still tucked like a loincloth into the labyrinth folds of his lap.  Half a dozen waiters were bustling around, waving white napkins like truce flags.

    Doing my best to open his airway, I scooped out a fistful of masticated mush as Doug slapped on the electrodes.  We’re a good team, Doug and I.

    Stand back!

    Doug delivered big doses of joules in an attempt to restart his heart, then delivered the standard cardiac stimulants while I plunged thirteen needles into his crucial accu-points in an effort to revive his Qi. Meanwhile, the string quartet continued to play a lively

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