Vandalar Concubines Series by V.K. Ludwig

I accidentally bought myself an alien concubine.Thirty-one, recently divorced, and behind on the mortgage for my farm, I scrape my last savings together and buy myself a farmhand. That big, horned alien I end up with? He’s a Vandalar saikh, a male concubine, and he wants to plow more than just my fields.Guess I should have read the fine print of the purchase contract better because the trader refuses to take him back... moreI accidentally bought myself an alien concubine.Thirty-one, recently divorced, and behind on the mortgage for my farm, I scrape my last savings together and buy myself a farmhand. That big, horned alien I end up with? He’s a Vandalar saikh, a male concubine, and he wants to plow more than just my fields.Guess I should have read the fine print of the purchase contract better because the trader refuses to take him back. Now I’m stuck with weed-infested fields, red letters from the bank, and a guy who says he studied one million ways to please a female. (His words, it’s not like I’m going to count…)Sign Here for Horns is the first book in this interconnected alien romantic comedy series, featuring concubines trained to cook, clean, and something that rhymes with buck. less

My alien concubine refuses to please me.That gruff, muscled Vandalar saikh I bought myself keeps running away. So I do what every lonely woman in her thirties would: I cuff him to my bed until he comes to his senses. At least now I don’t have to chase behind him in high heels, and can concentrate on starting my mail-order-saikh business. What could possibly go wrong?I tell you what: he frees himself.Of course, he does.Now I’m the one tied to the bed while he threatens punishment... moreMy alien concubine refuses to please me.That gruff, muscled Vandalar saikh I bought myself keeps running away. So I do what every lonely woman in her thirties would: I cuff him to my bed until he comes to his senses. At least now I don’t have to chase behind him in high heels, and can concentrate on starting my mail-order-saikh business. What could possibly go wrong?I tell you what: he frees himself.Of course, he does.Now I’m the one tied to the bed while he threatens punishment. I really should freak out about this, having so much work to do building myself a new existence and all — but I’m just happy he’s finally showing some initiative.Never Cuff an Alien is the second book in this interconnected alien romantic comedy series, featuring concubines trained to cook, clean, and please their female in whichever way she wishes — or not. Some are stubborn like that... less

A SciFi Alien RomCom. It’s hard to find the right alien concubine… Finding three of them? Impossible! Watching the future saikhs practice their penetration angles at the saikhmenti alone doesn’t cut it to make a decision. What about other things like… I don’t know. Personality? What I need is insider information. That saikh-in-training who keeps failing his assessments? He’s offering it up freely. Kinda. All he wants is practice those fancy skills on me, or otherwise he might flunk his finals... moreA SciFi Alien RomCom. It’s hard to find the right alien concubine… Finding three of them? Impossible! Watching the future saikhs practice their penetration angles at the saikhmenti alone doesn’t cut it to make a decision. What about other things like… I don’t know. Personality? What I need is insider information. That saikh-in-training who keeps failing his assessments? He’s offering it up freely. Kinda. All he wants is practice those fancy skills on me, or otherwise he might flunk his finals. Meh, why not? Don’t accuse me of caring. All I do is let him improve his skills in exchange for dirt on his classmates. I’m technically a martyr, taking one for team Earth here. You’re welcome. Besides, how bad can he be? Turns out, not bad at all. In fact, he’s so good I can’t help but wonder: why do I need three saikhs if this one pleases me so perfectly? (Wait, I just remembered why! Because I signed a contract stating I would do exactly that. Well... eff me.) Turn Left for Stars is the third book in this interconnected alien romantic comedy series, featuring alien concubines trained to pleae you. Author note: nope, it's not a reverse harem. less

There’s an alien in my bed. Also, he claims we’re married.After a girls-night-out, I expect to wake hungover — not next to a horned devil lovingly introducing himself as my husband. While he contemplates a name for our first child, refusing to leave my place, I call the cops.But they don’t kick him out. Nooo…They fine me for attempted spousal abandonment.Apparently, that love nibble this Vandalar gave me last night makes me his mate... moreThere’s an alien in my bed. Also, he claims we’re married.After a girls-night-out, I expect to wake hungover — not next to a horned devil lovingly introducing himself as my husband. While he contemplates a name for our first child, refusing to leave my place, I call the cops.But they don’t kick him out. Nooo…They fine me for attempted spousal abandonment.Apparently, that love nibble this Vandalar gave me last night makes me his mate. Now I’m stuck with an alien who says he studied a million ways to please me. But, really, he’s about as annoying as any average husband.Thing is: I’m not wife material. I don’t do marriage.All I need from this guy is the d-word.Not that d-word. The other one.As in divorce.Swipe Right for Husband is the fourth book in this quirky, interconnected alien romantic comedy series, featuring concubines trained to cook, clean, and please their female in whichever way she wishes - or not. Some are annoying like that... less

I crash-landed with a strange alien on an even stranger planet.Our escape pod is busted, the food sucks, and the weather in this place is even worse. The kicker? The alien I crashed with says he knows two million ways to please a woman—but not how to make fire, hunt us food, or get us off this planet. Looks like I'm going to die out here. Preferably post-coital.. moreI crash-landed with a strange alien on an even stranger planet.Our escape pod is busted, the food sucks, and the weather in this place is even worse. The kicker? The alien I crashed with says he knows two million ways to please a woman—but not how to make fire, hunt us food, or get us off this planet. Looks like I'm going to die out here. Preferably post-coital...Press Pound for Refund is a novella set in the Vandalar Concubines universe, previously published in the Claimed Among the Stars Anthology. less