The Adventures of an Intergalactic Bordello Worker

By Sinnamon Carnelian

A cheating ex-husband. An old-fashioned, religious family. A break for freedom and her own life. Running away to a new planet was the only adult way to handle the situation. Side by side with her new friend, Rusty builds the life she wants with the experiences she desires.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sinnamon Carnelian
• Release date: Aug 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223066033

Sinnamon Carnelian

Welcome to the delightfully unconventional world of Sinnamon Carnelian, where the lines between cutesy charm, whimsical science fiction, enchanting fantasy, and the raw, heartfelt beats of contemporary romance blur into irresistible tales. Ever wondered what it's like to navigate the turbulent waters of love with a modern twist, sail the high seas of passion with a pirate, or find affection in the most unexpected corners of the galaxy? Look no further. The journey of Sinnamon Carnelian began with a chuckle and a daring leap into the literary world with "A Trashy Pirate Romance." What started as a joke quickly blossomed into a beloved sanctuary for readers seeking refuge in the arms of lighthearted love, thrilling escapades, and a sprinkle of naughtiness. This pen name, initially a shield, has morphed into a banner under which I rally my creativity and connect with an amazing community that shares a love for stories that don't take themselves too seriously. Drawing inspiration from the quirky, the bizarre, and the heartfelt moments of everyday life, my books are crafted for those moments when you need to escape into a world where the only rule is to expect the unexpected. From the depths of space to the intricacies of contemporary relationships, I invite you on a journey where fantasy meets reality, and where a good "trashy" romance is never hard to find. As Sinnamon Carnelian continues to evolve, so does the promise of more adventures, more laughter, and, of course, more unabashedly trashy romances. Because, let's be honest, we all need a bit of escapism now and then. Thank you for allowing me to share these stories with you. Here's to the magic of finding beauty in the chaos, romance in the most unexpected places, and the joy of a story well-loved. Stay tuned for the next adventure—it's just around the corner.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Snapped

FOR YEARS, I TRIED to fit the mold my family placed before me. They weren’t terrible people, just too religious and old-fashioned. Sex before marriage? Never! Dirty thoughts? Purge them through hard work and prayer. Dating on your own? Being alone with a man would lead to dirty things, of course. Better to date in groups or pairs. It’s safer that way; it keeps the men in place.

But what about me? What if I didn’t want to be kept in place and well-behaved? Those thoughts and values were acceptable for most, but not me. That lusty craving was always there, paired with a sense of adventure. All of which needed to be fulfilled. I wanted to taste, explore, touch, and go out into the growing galaxy. And at thirty years old, that is what I did.

At thirty years old, I sat at my family’s dining room table, a big three and zero candle burning brightly on top of the birthday cake I didn’t want. All the while, my three older brothers and two younger sisters giggled with their spouses and cared for their children. I had a spouse once. Andy got caught bending over the toll booth worker late one night. Someone broadcasted it to the galaxy on one of those ‘Oops! Got Caught!’ internet sites. By the time I woke up at six the following morning, it was on my phone ten times over, and a message about prayer and forgiveness from all the family and church members. Divorce made me the gray sheep of the family.

Sitting there, watching the flames dance, the candle wax dripping onto that odd colored frosting, I finally snapped. I was thirty! Not eighty! One marriage and divorce, no kids, and I was done with the pray it better approach.

Fuck this, I blurted out. I stood, flipped the cake, grabbed my bag, and stormed out towards the shuttles. I’m sure I heard my two-year-old niece repeat that word, yet at that moment, I didn’t care. Life was going to change. No more praying for the right path; I was going to blaze that trail, burn a few bridges, have a damn drink, and find out what good sex was.

First, I needed to quit my job. Since it was late Friday night, he wouldn’t get the message until Monday mid-day when he dragged himself into the office with his dark shades on.

Derek,

I quit! I’m done covering for the others who spend their weekends partying or use having children as an excuse not to pick up shifts. Just because I’m divorced with no children doesn’t mean I have free time! What kind of boss lets his employees smoke pot on the job!? Grow up, and go scrub those nasty toilets yourself!

Piss off,

Rusty

P.S. Go ahead and squeal to my family like you always do, maybe ask them to pray for you and your receding hairline while you’re at it, you alcoholic!

Next was my living situation. It was only a few months since the divorce was finalized. Even though I paid for everything, including our house during the marriage, the courts made us sell the home. His parents turned around and bought it for him. I made a quick stop by the store on my way to the house. I planned on leaving a parting gift for all of them.

Andy was staying with a new fling, tollbooth girl wised up and kicked him to the curb, and I was saying goodbye to the house that weekend. Most of my things were in my parent’s basement, not like I had much left after the divorce, anyway. Not like I had much during the marriage.

No, Rusty, that shirt shows too much skin!

No, Rusty, a grown woman, doesn’t play games or write journals.

No, Rusty, a mature, religious woman, doesn’t read those romance smut books.

It was the only way I could get any enjoyment, but he sucked it all out of me and then took the rest in the divorce.

With my share of the money moved into my personal bank account only I could touch, I got to work. All important documents were in a safe and stored with my stuff; digital documents would work just fine to prove citizenship, purchase my ticket off the big blue marble, and hopefully the start of something better. Nearly anything had to be better than the first thirty years of being what I wasn’t.

I stuffed my clothes and hygiene products into my backpack, then double-checked the house in case I missed something. Which I did forget something. A box filled with cheap fancy dishes his parents gave us as a wedding gift. Andy went back and forth about them, wanting them one court date, giving them to me the next. Once he found out I didn’t want them, they were all mine.

Feeling that cracked and fed up high, I took the box to the top of the golden wood staircase with a picture-perfect white banister. After carefully setting it on the edge of the top step, I kicked it as hard as I could down them. Shattering, crashing, thumping, and shards scraping across the entranceway filled my ears. Such a glorious sound.

Two hours until I needed to be at the shuttle to the off-world transport, and armed with a screwdriver, butter knife, and a grocery bag filled with boxes of shrimp and fish paste, I became petty. All while ignoring the calls and messages from my family, demanding I apologize for my behavior and ruining the birthday party I didn’t want. Every doorknob was removed, partially filled with the icky goodness, then put back together and wiped down. Then all the curtain rods and the shower curtains, making sure to let the extra droplets soak into the carpets. All perishable food was dumped, helping conceal the fish and shrimp tubes in the trash bag I so sweetly took out for him. Frozen food was left in the freezer, unplugged, and the door open. Non-Perishable food went into a box with a can-opener and scissors for the nice homeless people by the transport. I bought all of it, and I’d be damned before Andy would continue leeching off me.

I turned my phone off, cranked the heat on the thermostat, locked the deadbolt Andy lost the keys for, and went out the back door with my backpack. The homeless were thankful for the big box of goodies and half of Andy’s socks. They had no problem pretending I was never there. Like they even knew who I was, but it was still good to cover my tracks.

Chapter 2: Adulting At Its Finest

AROUND BREAKFAST TIME, I arrived at the Aldrin Space Station that orbited the moon. Armstrong Moon Base was the largest thriving city on the moon’s surface and the only fully terraformed part. Initially, I wanted to go there for my honeymoon but was promptly talked out of it to save money. The motel down the street from our families was as lackluster as it got for a honeymoon. Let alone the disappointment of the first night and every time after.

That wasn’t my final destination; I planned on heading for the new mining colony on Talas Prime. They needed new workers for everything, and I needed a new life. It seemed like a good place to start. Sitting there eating a hardy breakfast, I begrudgingly thought of all times I tried to eat a meal like that. A stack of pancakes, sausage patties, hash browns, toast, and hazelnut coffee. Each time I wanted to indulge a little because I earned it, I always heard about it. Eat small portions, no fatty foods, less salt, coffee is evil, and all sorts of remarks about my weight and life from the man who got caught on camera banging tollbooth chick.

Little by little, I realized I was being watched in the packed food court. A woman about my age seemed interested in my tray of food. I cautiously peeked over each shoulder to make sure someone wasn’t returning her gaze, and each time I looked back at her, she sheepishly looked away. I waited until she looked at me again, then did my best to wave her over inconspicuously.

She grimaced, slightly realizing she’d been caught. I’d already eaten half my meal and was stuffed. It was just fun to get to do things I wanted finally. Her hair was as bleach blonde as it got, with a streak of royal purple along one side; the single backpack she carried screamed fellow runaway adult.

Sorry for staring, she said with a timid smile. If you don’t umm... want your toast... could I have it? I pushed the entire tray her way, watching her eyes light up.

I’m full. I just bought all that as a big F-U to my ex-husband, I freely admitted. Eat as much as you’d like. I might not agree with all of my family’s values and way of life, but one thing I will hold tight to is that no one should go hungry. Years of giving service at food banks, if I liked it or not, showed me the nasty side of hunger and how it affected people.

What? she mumbled with a full mouth. He doesn’t like breakfast or something?

No, he liked it. He was always on my ass about not overeating.

Well, he better of looked like a freaking Greek God then, she said with a snort.

Tollbooth man.

No! She gasped.

Are you running away from home, too? I motioned to her backpack as I took another sip of my coffee.

Yeah, she said while nodding. I went to work like I always do, just stared at my computer and the stack of work I needed to get done, then walked out at lunch. Between being an accountant and dealing with my boyfriend, ex now, I guess, I just snapped.

I flipped my birthday cake and taught my niece a new word, I said, listening to her snicker. But it was the same thing. I’m tired of being what they want me to be.

Exactly! she agreed. I don’t want to be a big businesswoman wearing suits all day long and fighting for every promotion. I grabbed all the money I had, dyed my hair, bought a ticket out of here, and figured I had enough to eat about once a day until I got to Talas Prime. Greg’s going to have to get a full-time job and buy his own pot.

I sabotaged the house I bought but had to sell. My ex’s parents bought it for him, I commented. It’s going to smell horrible by the time they get there Monday.

Look at the two of us. She giggled. We’ve got this adulting thing down.

Andy doesn’t even work anymore. I rolled my eyes. Told the court and his mommy that I was mean to him, and he just couldn’t.

Couldn’t what? Grow the hell up? She grabbed a napkin, wiping her hands and face before sticking her hand across the table. I have no manners, I see. I’m Britney.

Rusty. I shook her hand; it was nice to find a kindred spirit in the chaos yet peaceful calm I was feeling.

Like... your hair? Britney glanced up at my hair.

I was born with this color, and they thought it’d be a cute name.

So, Rusty. Britney cleared her throat after scarfing down the rest of my breakfast. Where you headed?

Talas Prime.

Yay! Britney cheered. "Now I know someone there and won’t feel like a