Books
Grace Goodwin

Beauty and the Beast

  • Cris Lohas quoted3 years ago
    It will be almost impossible to save her once she is on that moon base.”
  • Cris Lohas quoted3 years ago
    The scars reminded me to be vigilant. To never relax my guard.
  • Jessica Araujohas quoted4 years ago
    About an ancient named Dracula and his need to drink blood to survive.”

    I blanched, thinking of Lukabo. “You… you don’t drink blood?”

    He grinned. “On the contrary, our bite gives life. Heals illness. Binds us to our mates.”

    The idea of these two with someone like me, a human woman, between them, fucking them, biting her with some kind of super bonding juice? Whoa. And I thought Bahre was intense with how he took me up against the wall. “I’d like to meet Harper.”

    Styx bowed at the waist. “Of course. You and your warlord are welcome in Styx Legion’s territory at any time.”

    “I heard that.” The Prillon in charge, Dr. Helion, walked over and joined us. “I heard that, Styx. I will hold you to it.”

    “I said Bahre and his mate were welcome, Helion. No one else. And do not forget, you will owe me a favor after this is done.”

    “Yes. I am well aware of your demands.” Helion looked at me. “Are you ready? I have word from my people in the landing bay that Cerberus has arrived. He will be here in a few minutes.”

    “Landing bay? He didn’t transport?” I asked.

    “Never.” That was all Dr. Helion said in answer.

    “Then I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I looked at Bahre, who held my gaze just long enough to make me feel truly seen. He knew I needed to do this. He also seemed to be the only one who realized just how scared I was, how making small talk calmed me.

    Helion looked to Rett. “Demand double Lukabo’s price.
  • Jessica Araujohas quoted4 years ago
    I left the small bathing room, and Bahre entered behind me. Perhaps washing the same creep’s blood from his own skin. I was a bit shocked to discover I did not care that Bahre had killed that alien. In fact, I was relieved. If someone had taken out Jeff Randall about three years ago, I would have had a different life. But then I wouldn’t have been in Florida or met Bahre.

    Not wanting to poke too much into the psychology of my past, I walked to stare, with wonder, at the view. There were windows, actual windows—maybe screens, I wasn’t sure—but there were stars outside. Planets. Swirling galaxies and ships moving to and from what I could see of the massive space station. I could see them all, like some kind of sci-fi movie.

    I. Was. In. Outer. Space.

    The jerk who would not be named had told me we were on a space station. However, being told while sitting in a tiny, shed-sized room with metal walls, and seeing stars and moving spaceships outside the window were two very different things.

    “Where are we?” I asked, glancing around when I heard Bahre move behind me. The walls were coated in soft fabric, and I assumed the metal of the ship was underneath. There was lush carpet under my feet and a large, gorgeous bed made up with bedding that, when I leaned over to touch, was soft as the finest silk. The other furnishings, a small sofa and chair and several small tables scattered around the area, looked to be of high quality. I had an eye for details, and th
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