Read the opening below to get a real feel for the characters, voice, and pacing before choosing an edition.
Bachelor Beast
by Grace Goodwin
Chapter 1
1
Warlord Wulf, Interstellar Brides Program Processing Center, Miami, Florida, Earth
“This idea was stupid from the start, and now it’s ridiculous,” I snarled.
A woman fluttered behind me with a small brush in her hand and brought it up to my neck. It not only tickled, but it was covered in a pale powder she was applying to my skin.
I swatted her away… carefully—she was small and female, and I didn’t want to hurt her—then looked back at the comms.
“What is the human doing to your neck?” Maxim asked, cocking his head to the side as if that could help him see better. “Why are your cheeks that color? Are you ill?”
My beast practically snarled, ready to rip the comm screen off the wall. The frustration had been building ever since I’d arrived on this far-off, backward planet.
“It’s what they call makeup,” I said through gritted teeth. “The small female assures me that if I do not have this red powder on my cheeks, that I will appear to be unwell and weak on the display screens all over this planet.”
Rachel, who stood behind Maxim, nodded her head. “That’s true. Humans call it stage makeup.”
I huffed in disgust and waved the female forward. In moments she was back at it with her little brushes. I looked down at her, tried to calm myself enough not to scare the shit out of her. The look in my eye must have indicated imminent death if she didn’t leave me alone. She swallowed hard, then climbed down from the stepladder she had to use to reach my face. I was so much taller than anyone on Earth, and she was a small version of a human. She cleared her throat. “I think that’s good enough. Good luck tonight.”
“Thank you,” I replied, trying to practically whisper so she didn’t burst into tears.
She and her ladder scurried away as if she’d used the reserves of her courage to speak to me.
“You look odd,” Maxim said. I was glad he refrained from using a more insulting word.
“While makeup is usually a thing Earth women put on their faces, for television, people of both genders need it or they’re washed out by the set lights.” Rachel explained to Maxim the same thing I’d been told the first day on set.
“I have no idea what any of that means,” Maxim said, turning to look up at his mate. He sat in his familiar chair—even though it was light-years away from where I was—and Rachel stood at his side, her arm around his shoulder. It was a very casual pose for an official comms call between planets.
But nothing about why I was on Earth was official or formal. It was a hot mess, as I’d heard someone here say. It was a disaster. The worst solar plasma storm on record had nothing on my life. I was the unlucky fucker chosen for this ridiculous mission because I’d learned the human language of English several years ago. I’d learned it to try to please my Interstellar Bride. My perfect matched mate.
Look how that had turned out. Back then I’d been a fierce warlord. Whole. Battle tested. In my
[Preview ends before mature content.]
