Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
My human client is sassy, bratty, and famous.
I’m big, blue, alien – and responsible for keeping her safe.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
Even if she pushes every button.
Even if she tests every limit.
I’ll take her in hand, and I’ll take her into my bed.
Because she’s a bad girl, and she’s a superstar.
Some love her, and some love to hate her.
Everybody thinks they know her.
Everybody wants a piece of her.
She’s many things to many people,
But I am going to make her mine.
My Big Alien Bodyguard is a dark alien romance.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Intergalactic Superstarlet Lyric
LYRIC! I LOVE YOU, LYRIC! BANG ME WITH A RAKE, MOM!
The slightly filthy chants and off the wall shrieked requests coming from the throats of thousands are twisted versions of the lyrics to one of my songs. A mob of people are screaming at me from a great distance, and all of this is a very good thing. These are my fans, and every shout and scream makes me grin broadly.
“I LOVE YOU GUYS! I LOVE YOU ALL!” My screams are whipped away by the wind as I put my head out the bathroom window of the hotel and wave down to a group of at least five thousand people clustering outside. They’ve blocked most of the road outside, and it’s causing absolute hell with the traffic, which is just so flattering. I don’t think they can really see me up here. I’m just a figure way, way at the top of a very, very big building. I need to get closer.
When I pull my head back in, I am inside a bathroom bigger than my last apartment, because this is the penthouse suite of one of the finest hotels in one of the finest entertainment centers on Earth.
It’s Las Vegas, baby! The year is 3032, and I am the hottest thing on this strip, or off it. I am also the most famous person on Earth by a very wide margin. Over a billion dollars has been spent on promoting me. People brush their teeth with brushes with my face on them. There’s not a bus or train on the American continent that doesn’t have me beaming from it.
This is all astonishing when you consider a month ago I had five thousand followers on my socials. Now I have thirty billion followers, and a three-year intergalactic contract. Everybody knows me. It’s practically mandatory to know me at this point. And that means people want to see me. And I want to see them. I want to see them more than anything. I want to thank every single person who has chosen to jump on this crazy bandwagon with me.
I decide I’m going to go down and see them. They deserve my personal attention, not to be left to scream at the side of a building. I know a lot of them have traveled for miles, because this is my first big in-person show. For most of my career, I’ve been performing online and in small local venues. But a twist of fate and about a decade of hard work changed my life forever.
I make my way across the suite, heading for the personal elevator that this place comes with. No expense has been spared here. I am being given the intergalactic superstarlet treatment, and I am loving every moment. I’ve never been this cosseted, or this spoiled. I can order literally anything on the room service menu whenever I want and nobody cares. And my mini bar? I’ve opened all the little bottles in that thing. Every single one. And I haven’t paid a cent for the privilege. When you’re this kind of famous, everything is comped.
I’m getting really used to getting my way, put it that way. Which is why it comes as a real shock to me when my way out of the suite is blocked by several feet of steel blue alien towering above me. This guy is built bigger than the doorway. I don’t really look at him. I’m busy. Places to go. Massive achievements to celebrate. Fans to thank for everything.
“Excuse me,” I say.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at me. Rude.
“Dude. Move.”
He angles his head down slowly and his great gold shining eyes meet mine. I wish I was a little bit taller, because I suddenly feel very small and somehow insignificant which is very strange given absolutely all of this is about me. I inspect him up and down, finding him massive and scaled and very imposing. His head is vaguely human-shaped, but his face is very alien. The eyes are incredibly golden, and the brow is intense and strong. His skin is lightly scaled around his eyes, and there is a sharpness about his features, as well as a ruggedness. He is powerful, a large walking dragon man. The colloquial term is lizard, but that’s an offensive term. Thrakins, that’s the proper term. I’ve never seen one before, and I’d love to be interested in him, but I don’t have the time. Thrakins do not wear a lot in the way of clothing, so he is bare-chested and wears thick black pants with long boots that come up above his knees. He has a utility belt around his waist, filled with god knows what, but it looks somewhat tactical. His chest is broad and muscular and scaled with thick plates. He is standing very still, far more still than any human would ever stand. It could be creepy, or hot, I guess, depending on your orientation.