Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:27:18 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Romancing the Clone (Sunrise Cantina #3) Read Online Ruby Dixon http://www.books2020.com/romancing-the-clone-sunrise-cantina-3-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:27:18 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/romancing-the-clone-sunrise-cantina-3-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal Authors: Ruby Dixon Series: Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)

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Simone loves a good opportunity. When she sees that there’s a hole in the market on Risda III for a bakery, she steps in to fill the void. With a cart full of fresh baked goods, she rakes in the credits. Who cares if she doesn’t know the difference between a biscuit and a babka? She’s got hustle and a winning smile.

Ruth-Ann cares. She cares a lot.

It irritates her that Simone has a baked goods business…and that it’s succeeding. Does no one else see that Simone’s crusts are soggy? Her cookies as flat as pancakes? It bothers Ruth-Ann so much that she makes sure to point out to Simone everything she’s doing wrong. Daily.

Simone despises Ruth-Ann and her know-it-all attitude.

It’s mutual.

Until the day Simone’s cart doesn’t show up to its usual spot and Ruth-Ann realizes that she might care a little too much

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER

ONE

SIMONE

Michelle had been a terrible girlfriend. She’d been scatterbrained and rude, and messy as could be. Selfish, too. She made sure that she came, and then if you didn’t, that was your problem. We were only together for a few months before I got tired of that shit and we broke up. That was long before aliens invaded my life and stole me to the other end of the universe, though.

I think about Michelle this morning as I check my sourdough “pet” in the window of my home, because Michelle was a lot of things but she was also a baker, and so I’d heard far more about baking than any woman had a right to. I’d watched all the baking shows with her, and while I’d never tried my hand at any of it, I remember a lot of things Michelle would say when people messed up.

Oh, that dummy just put carton egg whites in the mixer. Her meringue is never going to whip.

She didn’t let her bread rise for long enough. That’s going to be a problem.

She’s putting a drizzle on her cake to keep the crumb from tasting too dry. That’s smart.

Michelle’s voice is in my head as I work on the baked goods for my cart this morning. I’m not much of a baker, but I am a savvy businesswoman, and when I got here to Risda and saw that the only place serving food that you could take away with you was that nasty-ass cantina? I saw opportunity. I ditched the idea of farming and asked to start my own business.

Well…that’s kinda how it happened. It wasn’t that farming was bad. It was that a few months after I arrived, my friend Dora showed up with a carinoux kitten for me. Apparently they’re highly sought-after guard cats. I took one look at the kittenish face and fell in love. I named him Pluto, and he’s been the absolute joy of my time here.

He’s also going to be the size of a tiger when he’s grown and has eight legs and scaly skin. So in addition to being huge and always hungry, he terrifies the cattle. It makes being a cattle rancher difficult, and I’d much rather have Pluto than a farm full of cows. I made a deal with the Port Custodians and sold my farm back to them in exchange for an income stipend. I could sit around and do nothing all day, but…that gets old fast.

So…baking. I can bake in the morning, and when I sell out, I can close up and roll my cart home. If I sell out an hour after I set up, I can take the rest of the day off. If business is slow on that end of the street, I can move closer to the spaceship yards and the official “Port” where the workers are.

And someday I’m going to have a second cart, I decide. One full of sweets and one full of savories. One full of cupcakes and the other full of seed-filled breads and maybe even veggie hand-pies.

For now, though, I’m starting small.

I take the jar of sourdough starter and spoon out enough for the day, then feed it new flour and set it on the window so it can do whatever sourdough does. Michelle did the same when we lived together, and I’m basically just copying her. From there, I make a pancake mix with the grainy, seed-based flour we have here on Risda III and add “pollinator sweetener” to make my honey pancakes. Mine are about as big as silver dollars and I stab a sharp eating stick through a stack before setting them on the tray. It’s not a traditional way to eat pancakes, but they’re portable and sweet and everyone loves them. I also make muffins because those are easy, and little fruit jam sandwiches made out of a seed bread. I fry discs of the sweet potato-like root called tahaari and then make sandwiches with those for my alien customers who aren’t as fond of sugary snacks.

Risda III doesn’t have a bakery, so I’m the closest they’ve got.

Considering that I sell out quickly, I’d say it’s a success. I know one of the Port Custodians has a wife who’s an amazing baker, and I want to run her down in the street and pepper her with questions every time I see her, but that feels intrusive, so I just do my own thing.

If people don’t like my baking, they won’t buy it, right? With that pleased thought rolling in my head, I chop up a haunch of meat for Pluto and fill his bowl, then prep my cart for the morning rush.

It’s incredibly early and I fight back a yawn as I roll my little cart down Risda’s Main Street. My clear windows are full of muffins. Little sandwiches line up in neat rows, and my pancake stacks cover the top of the cart, swaying as I push the thing down to the best vending spot. I yawn again, because I’m not used to waking up so early, but that’s the curse of the baker, I suppose. If this place had a coffeehouse, it’d make a killing.

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Advertisement Clonely You (Sunrise Cantina #2) Read Online Ruby Dixon http://www.books2020.com/clonely-you-sunrise-cantina-2-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:24:04 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/clonely-you-sunrise-cantina-2-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Virgin Authors: Ruby Dixon Series: Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)

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A'ani clone Aithar has had his heart broken a dozen times on Risda III. No one wants the love he is so very eager to give. But then he meets a human woman named Michaela who runs a dairy farm. She wants to rescue her sister, and to do so, she needs Aithar’s help.

He’s willing to help…in exchange for a date.

Michaela warns him that she’s just using him. He’s fine with being used, as long as it involves kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

She’s determined not to fall in love. He’s just happy to be of service. No commitments…right? Right.

(I think we all know how this story goes…

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER

ONE

AITHAR

“Oh my god, this butter!” Ruthie moans over something in the mess hall.

“I know, right? It’s so good.” Her sister Ruth makes a happy sound. “Pass me some more dry noodles. They work amazingly as crackers.”

From my spot on the bridge, I hit the “retrieve” command on the comm unit, but there’s no new messages, no incoming chatter, no nothing. Risda III is in the middle of nowhere—what Lord Straik jokingly calls “the armpit of the universe.” It’s very pastoral and remote, but that also means that it’s very, very quiet.

Which is difficult for a communications officer who is desperately trying to stay busy.

Normally, I do not mind the quiet days. With the ship docked at Risda III, there are fewer crew members aboard as Lord Straik and Lady Ruth remain low profile, contemplating their future. His mother is under investigation, and with corsairing no longer an option, the ship’s purpose hangs in limbo. Some of us a’ani crew will be retiring to Port here to run a cantina for humans, but I haven’t yet decided. Initially I thought I’d stay, find a human woman to mate, and start a family.

But it seems that no human women want me. I can only conclude that an a’ani is not prized as a mate when there are others around. And who can blame them? We are a race that is cloned for grunt work. We have no value in the eyes of many. Every time I have attempted to woo a human, someone else has captured her heart. I am seen as a friend only.

I do not mind being a friend.

I do mind being only a friend.

My once-love Melody recently returned to a mesakkah male who stole her heart years ago. Perhaps that is why I feel so lost and alone right now. It is not that I wanted Melody in particular—though I did like her quite a bit—it is that I am feeling rejected by the universe in general. Everyone seems to have someone. Melody has Brux. Lady Ruth has Lord Straik.

“Oh my god, this butter!”

Ruthie has butter.

She also has Kazex, but the sounds the sister-clones are making as they devour the lactation by-product are vaguely disturbing. I feel as if I should not be listening in to this particular conversation…and yet it is not a conversation. It is just them slurping and licking in an obscenely loud fashion and moaning dramatically.

Over butter.

Butter is more desirable than an a’ani mate. I bite back another sigh of pure self-loathing.

“Is that the last of it?” Lady Ruth says, voice mournful. A plas-wrapper crinkles. “Where did it come from? How do we get more?”

More crinkling. “I know Ruth-Ann said she was getting some locally sourced ingredients to see what we can use for the cantina. Maybe this was part of it? Were we not supposed to eat it?”

“I…don’t know.”

A moment later, two human sets of feet make clomping noises down the hall, and I brace myself for a confrontation. I’m the only other person on the ship, other than Lord Straik, who is currently on a long vid-comm with an old Homeworld relative. Ruth and Ruth-Ann appear on the bridge a moment later, both of them with glittering eyes that they fix on me.

“Aithar! Have you seen Ruth-Ann?”

“No.” I want to point out that I am communications. That I am just in charge of anything that comes through the comm unit. But I am also very sour right now and I know that is not the fault of Ruth or her sister-clones. “She is most likely in Port with the others.”

“Probably harassing that poor cookie woman again,” Ruth mutters, glancing at Ruthie. She holds the wrapper out to me. “Do you know anything about the snacks that Ruth-Ann was acquiring for the cantina? Are you familiar with Space Butter Farms?”

“I am not.” I imagine it is a local human farm and I do not visit them. The humans do not appreciate “aliens” visiting their homesteads and it has been made clear to the crew that we should remain in Port unless we have good reason otherwise.

Besides, I have not felt like sightseeing on a planet full of beautiful human females that are not interested in me. I am moping.

“Okay, well, we need more of this butter she got. Like, lots more,” Lady Ruth says, holding the wrapper out to me.

Ruthie nods, her earrings jingling. “Perfect for bar snacks. That’s your domain, isn’t it?”

“It is not,” I remind them. “Ruth-Ann is creating the menu. I am helping her implement it, that’s all.” I’m not as good with construction as the others. My skill lies in comms and I speak and read seventeen alien languages. Unless they need something read or written, I am not much use at the moment.

“Implementation is exactly what we need. This needs implementing!” They thrust the wrapper at me. “Go and buy all of this that you can, please.”

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Advertisement Only the Clonely (Sunrise Cantina #1) Read Online Ruby Dixon http://www.books2020.com/only-the-clonely-sunrise-cantina-1-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Sat, 27 Apr 2024 17:49:25 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/only-the-clonely-sunrise-cantina-1-read-online-ruread-online-dixon Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Authors: Ruby Dixon Series: Sunrise Cantina Series by Ruby Dixon
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)

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The crew of the Scarlet Gaze are figuring out what they want to do now that Lord Straik sa'Rin is no longer running a corsair ship. Some of the a'ani crew want to run a cantina on Risda III.Kazex just wants Ruthie.Ruthie just wants to have a nervous breakdown. Well, she wants Kazex, too. The delicious a'ani chief of security has been a steady, protective, delicious presence ever since she joined the crew. He's made it clear that he loves Ruthie as she is, nervous wreck and all. But Ruthie's afraid of what will happen to their easy friendship if she asks for more. What if kissing his tattoos and touching his sinful body changes things? It's too late for flirting - now it's time for forever. And forever terrifies her.The only thing more terrifying? Missing her chance with Kazex entirely.This is a friends-to-lovers between clones (one alien, one human) and starts a new spinoff series that melds the Corsair Brothers series and the Risdaverse stories.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER

ONE

(If you are interested in content warnings or need a character refresher and your book starts here, please scroll back!)

BACK THEN

RUTHIE

The worst thing about the drugs the aliens give me is when they wear off.

Not only do they leave me with a terrible headache, but I'm also completely aware of the situation I'm in. That I've somehow been kidnapped by aliens and I'm being dragged, filthy and tired, through a space port behind some nasty-looking bug guy and his goons.

I'd much rather remain in the foggy haze brought on by the drugs. They make me placid and obedient, but they also make everything seem like it's just a dream. Like all of this weird, terrifying madness is happening to someone else.

They're starting to wear off right now, much to my chagrin. I love those drugs. Right now, everything around me is still hazy like I'm in a dream, but the headache is coming on. Once the fog in my vision clears, I'll have a throbbing migraine and a desperate yearning to go under once more. No one seems inclined to give me another dose, though. They just lead/drag me through the docking bay at the space station. Normally I'd probably try to examine this to make note of my surroundings, but the drug haze makes me not care very much at all.

Without the drugs, I'd probably be hysterical.

The bug guy, Bist, stops in front of a ramp and signals for his guards to do the same. They jerk on my chains, tugging me to a halt, and I stumble forward, nearly crashing into the floating chaise that the bug guy sits atop. Bist turns to look at me and signals with one of his many arms.

A guard grabs my face and tilts it up to Bist so he can look at me. He studies me carefully, then shudders. "Revolting thing."

Me? Revolting? He's the one that looks like an overgrown pillbug.

But I'm released and allowed to step back a little as we wait. And wait. Eventually another party meets us on the docks, and I'm dragged forward again, this time so some blue alien can stare at my face. Unlike Bist, he doesn't say I'm gross-looking. His expression is unsettled, his eyes wide. He's accompanied by guards with red skin—another type of alien, I assume—and I huddle down and try to make myself seem small and unassuming while Bist and the blue alien argue in low, hushed voices.

My head throbs.

Wincing, I close my eyes, trying to fight off the worst of the pain, when I'm suddenly jerked forward by the cuffs on my wrists. I yelp, and then, to my surprise, I'm freed.

"Take her, Kazex," the blue alien says, running a hand through his short hair. "Don't let her run. We're going back to the ship right away. Ruth has to know."

"Of course, Lord Straik."

A surprisingly gentle arm goes around my waist, and then I'm being supported against a larger body that smells pleasant and doesn't treat me like I'm a sack of grain to be thrown around. He guides my arm over his shoulders and holds me close. "I've got you," he says in a comforting voice. "You're safe."

"Ruthie," I murmur as we fall in line behind the blue alien. "He called me Ruth. I'm not Ruth. I'm Ruthie." A name is a small matter in the scheme of things, but it's all I've got.

"Ruthie," the man holding me up murmurs. "I'll remember."

The fog in my brain continues to punish me, making my steps stagger even as knives press into my skull. I fight back a whimper of distress as we head up a ramp, because I don't know these strangers. I don't know if they're going to be kind or cruel. I've met with both kinds of aliens, and until you know what you're getting into, it's best to be quiet and unobtrusive.

I don't have cuffs on, though. It occurs to me that I should run away, but my feet are heavy and my brain feels like mush. Mush with knives in it. I squint when the light grows brighter and footsteps clang up the metal ramp.

Then we stop. Ahead of us, the cloaked blue alien dressed in all black pauses at the entrance to a spaceship, talking to someone. They hiss and whisper at each other, and then they're turning to look at me. The guy in black steps aside...

And then I see me.

I blink harder, confused. I've been fogged thanks to the drugs, but they've never made me hallucinate. I widen my eyes and lift a hand, trying to see if she's a mirror image, if she'll replicate my movements.

Instead, she takes a step backward, and the look on her face is pure panic.

"Ruth, sweetheart," the blue alien says to the mirror image. He cups her face. "It's going to be all right."

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