Welcome, welcome. This week’s My Sexy Saturday theme has forced me to dig deeply into my personal archives.

This week, we’re traveling the universe as we give our wonderful sci-fi romance, of any subgenre, a nod to entertaining us with their wonderful stories.

Y’all know by now that I write contemporary romantic comedy. What you probably don’t know is that one of the first stories I wrote (still unfinished, as a matter of fact) was a sci-fi/comedy/romance. It fills part of two spiral-bound wide-ruled notebooks, pencil on yellowing sheets.

A communications specialist named Marc—human, but from a distant utopian planet that’s nearly all water—scans the universe’s airwaves for beings open to alien contact. He sees an Earthling woman and—despite protests from his brother, who learned all he knows about Earth women from the movie “Earth Girls are Easy”—undertakes a mission to woo her, wed her and take her back to his planet.

Of course, mayhem ensues from the moment Marc sneaks aboard the space shuttle, which is docked at the International Space Station. (Brother Rik notes that Earthlings are the only species arrogant enough to assume no need for security in space.) He’s a fish out of water, so to speak, trying to fit into California culture, win over Kyree’s overprotective friends and convince her she’s meant to be his life mate.

This story will probably never see the light of day. I started it in the mid-90s, long before I joined RWA and started learning about the craft. That means it’s rife with head-hopping, telling instead of showing and other beginner mistakes.

But the premise is fun and I had a blast writing the parts I finished. (Just imagine Marc shopping for condoms for the first time, with assistance from the boyfriend of Ree’s best friend.) I’ll share a snippet here—head-hopping and all—in hopes of brightening your day.

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Marc had decided it wouldn’t be right to make love to Kyree until he convinced her of his origins. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

“Ree,” he began cautiously as they stepped onto the beach. “Remember when I told you I’m from Quaaline?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

Marc sighed. He could sense she still wasn’t ready to believe him. “Never mind.”

Ree gave him an odd look. She hoped he didn’t actually believe he was an alien. She knew some real sci-fi nerds who tried to become someone dashing, like Captain Kirk, Han Solo or Lance Lincolnway, to overcome their awkwardness—but Marc was charming enough on his own. He didn’t have to pretend to be a hero.

Marc watched her face as the thoughts ran through her mind. He raised an eyebrow in amusement and murmured, “If I’m Han Solo, you have to be my Princess Leia.”

Kyree smiled at him. “That can be arranged.”