Drop Dead Single
A Monstrana Paranormal Romance
Book #1
Lacy Andersen
Drop Dead Single
Copyright 2018 by Lacy Andersen
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
[email protected]
First Edition
Cover by Molly Burton
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Drop Dead Single (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance, #2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About the Author
Follow Lacy Andersen
Sign up for Lacy Andersen’s mailing list
Sign up to make sure you don’t miss limited-time special pricing on new releases or freebies.
Chapter One
PRINCE VIKTOR ROMANOV had never sunk his fangs into something so trivial as romantic affairs. He was the first in line for the vampire throne and had spent the last six-hundred years preparing for the role. Women and marriage were the last things on his mind. Yet, his grandmother, the honorable Queen Anna, just would not let the issue die.
“Viky, you must find a wife,” she croaked from the other side of the dining table.
He winced at her use of his childhood nickname. She was the only person who got away with it. Anyone else would’ve been instantly thrown in the stocks.
“I’ve told you before, Babushka, there is plenty of time.” He folded the newspaper he’d been skimming and lifted a goblet filled with a ruby red liquid to his mouth. “I’m not ascending to the throne anytime soon.”
Her pencil-thin eyebrows raised on her elegant face. Despite the centuries of experience behind that probing expression, his grandmother appeared no older than a woman in her mid-fifties. She wore her silver hair neatly coiffed in loose curls that brushed against her thin shoulders. Her cheekbones were high and proud under intense blue eyes that could see right through you. If he had been anyone else, he would’ve quivered under her direct attention. But Viktor simply avoided her gaze and glanced down to the other end of the grand dining table.
At that moment, two large monsters entered the room. Resembling gigantic wolves with long snouts and thick gray fur, their razor sharp claws clicked with each step on the stone floor. Their jaws could’ve easily crushed a human skull and there was no doubt that the strength in their taut muscles could outmatch the strongest of vampires. Still, Viktor simply rolled his eyes at the sight and sighed.
Teenaged werewolves.
“Come on, you two, stop showing off. You know there’s no transforming at lunch. Don’t make me tell Mom.” A young woman scrambled in after them, her dark brown hair a curly mess that haloed a fair face. She winked at him and shooed the werewolves into the halls. “Come back when you’ve got some clothes on. I mean it.”
Dropping herself into the chair next to him, she reached for the nearest tray of food and shoveled it onto her plate.
He eyed her growing piles of cheese and sausages. “Rough night, Stasia?”
“You could call it that.” She rolled her honey brown eyes and grimaced. “The network has me pinned like a bug to a foam board. If I don’t come up with a winning TV show by next week, I’m pretty sure I’ll be canned. Werewolf princess or not, my boss doesn’t accept mediocre talent.” She sighed into a bowl full of pasta.
He fought the slight flare of jealousy that shot up at the mention of Stasia’s job. Her parents had willingly let their eldest and heir to the werewolf throne pursue a career outside of the royal duties. She’d gone into the entertainment sector and currently worked for one of the top networks in the country. Of course, he’d chosen to dedicate his life to the running of the country. And he loved doing it. But sometimes, he envied Stasia and her almost-normal life.
“You could just have them all sent to the dungeon.” He blinked innocently at her. “I’m sure a few nights down there will change their minds.”
Stasia choked on her food and coughed it up into a napkin. Her face bright red, she still managed to elbow him hard between the ribs. “Just because that’s your solution for everything, doesn’t mean we all have to be tyrannical rulers.”
He grinned at her, revealing brilliant white fangs. It’d been hundreds of years since anyone had spent time down in the ancient dungeons of their castle, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t threaten to use them once in a while. It kept people on their toes.
Princess Stasia and her twin siblings were the royal counterpart to Viktor and his wild younger brother, Leo. Long ago, their family members had banned together to form the kingdom of Monstrana, a safe haven for werewolves, vampires, and all other supernatural creatures of the world. Located somewhere between the coasts of Russia and Alaska, the country had managed to pass under the radar of passing time and the curiosity of humans. With both a werewolf throne and a vampire throne, the two factions peacefully ruled their kingdom together.
“Princess Anastasia, I’m so glad you’ve joined us. Will you please talk some sense into my Viky?” Queen Anna pled as she sipped delicately from her cup of tea.
Stasia’s eyes grew wide and her fork paused, motionless in front of her mouth. “Is this about Viktor’s love life again? I barely escaped the last conversation unscathed. You know he’s a permanent bachelor. A shut-in. A hopeless case.” She looked at him in mock horror. “I’m surprised that women don’t run away screaming when he walks through the streets. Anyone who’s heard of him knows he has a heart of stone. Let’s be honest. His only saving grace is his pretty face.”
Viktor hissed. He hated this kind of attention.
“As if you’re any better.” He prodded her with his elbow, goading her as an elder brother would tease his little sister. “You fall in love every other week. And just as soon, you’re out of it again. Men should run for cover when you approach.”
She sat a little straighter in her chair and set the fork carefully on the edge of her plate. “I happen to like falling in love, thank you very much. It’s a wonderful feeling.”
“Not so wonderful for the guys who get dumped days later,” he mumbled.
She glared at him, her lips pursing. He wasn’t being fair to her, but this conversation had put him in a grumpy mood. It was the f
ifth time his grandmother had brought the idea up this month. He’d do anything to table the idea for his own sanity.
“I believe that you haven’t given it a serious enough try,” Queen Anna continued, as if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted by their little squabble. “If you meet the right ladies, vetted and approved by myself, maybe it’ll be a different outcome.”
His grandmother’s idea of the proper lady was no doubt someone with centuries of vampire experience under her belt, a fine pedigree, and a blood-thirst for riches and power. That last trait couldn’t be helped. Most of the women Viktor had even come close to having a relationship with had revealed that flaw one way or another. They loved the throne. They adored the money.
They didn’t love him.
“And would that put an end to this discussion for the rest of the century?” He kneaded the spot between his eyes which had started to throb. “If I let you parade them in front of me?”
“Of course!” Her ancient eyes shone with excitement. “I’ve already got a few in mind...”
He held up three fingers. “I’m capping the numbers at three potentials. No more than that. And bring them all here at the same time. I can’t be wasting weeks on this plan of yours, escorting air-headed and vapid women to parties and on dates. I want it over and done with.”
“Three vampiresses.” She nodded solemnly, her pearl drop earrings swinging. “That can be done. I’ll have them here by next week.”
“And I’ve got an even better idea!” Stasia squealed loud enough it made Viktor’s ears ring. “I’ll film it for the network. It’ll be like one of those bachelor shows the humans all love.”
“What a lovely idea,” Queen Anna replied, daintily putting her tea cup into its saucer. “Prince Viktor could use some positive press.”
“Yes!” Stasia was nearly out of her seat. “Our very own royalty romance reality show. My boss is going to love it!”
“Now just you wait...” Viktor turned to her, his already pale face going white.
Broadcasting his romantic business was the last thing on his mind. He would rather be impaled by a hundred daggers and thrown into the afternoon sun without his magical ring for protection. That would be preferable to having his love life broadcast on some cheap, daytime television show.
“Please, Viktor.” She clasped her hands in front of her face and batted her eyelashes. “Please. You don’t know what this will do for my career.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“We won’t make it too complicated. Just film a couple dates and that’s it.”
Shaking his head, he ran a tongue over his fangs and grimaced. “I don’t need the public probing into my private life. It’s bad enough having these women forced on me.”
“It’s just a little show. Nothing intrusive.” Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at him with sincerity. “It’ll save my job, Vik. My dream job. Do this? For me?”
He groaned through his teeth. Leave it to his best friend to push him into a corner. One minute, he’d been enjoying his breakfast of Type A blood, and the next he was signed up to star in a ridiculous reality show. This century really couldn’t get any worse.
“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “If you keep it simple. No drama. I want this done and over.”
Stasia squealed again and threw her arms around him. His grandmother clapped her hands and scuttled away, no doubt to begin combing through her lists of eligible vampire bachelorettes. As he stared over his friend’s shoulder at the hearty flames jumping in the massive fireplace, he couldn’t help feeling like one of those logs being slowly incinerated to ashes.
There was no doubt in his mind — he was going to regret this.
Chapter Two
CATE MAHONEY STUMBLED off the gangway and into the airport like a giraffe on stilts. Three stiff vodkas on the airplane and she was feeling the Earth tilt on its axis. The sooner she could get to a bathroom, the better. So far, this trip was not turning out to be the ultimate surprise getaway she’d imagined.
Life had chosen this exact moment to dump a milkshake over her head and de-pants her in the middle of the school cafeteria. At least that’s how it felt to Cate. Especially when she turned her phone back on.
Blurry-eyed, she balanced herself in a bathroom stall and reread the text that had slipped in just before the flight crew made the announcement that all technology should be turned off. It was a message from her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. He was leaving her. They just weren’t a good match. It wasn’t her, it was him, and blah, blah, blah...
Cate cursed at the phone screen. What kind of guy dated a girl for eight months and then broke up over text? A jerk, that’s who. It wasn’t even the loss of him that made her so angry. It was the fact that she’d wasted so much time on a man who she knew, deep down, was never any good.
Sure, he had a fantastic job at a big time advertising agency and a trust-fund to boot. Not to mention, dazzling boy-next-door kind of looks. But he’d always been overly flirtatious with her friends and not exactly helpful when her mother passed away suddenly five months ago.
Cate’s good-guy radar was definitely broken and she wasn’t sure if it could ever be fixed again.
Squinting at the screen, she punched a few buttons and then held it up to her ear. Six rings later and it buzzed through to her best friend, Miranda’s voicemail.
“Hey babe. Guess what? Have I got a surprise for you! I just landed in...” she peered down at the wrinkled plane ticket in her hand “...Monstrana Airport. Surprise! I’m going to swing by the castle and check out your new job. I’m so excited.”
Miranda had moved away from their cozy little shared apartment in Omaha, Nebraska just a few weeks ago for the illusive country of Monstrana. She’d been offered a top-level service management job at Monstrana castle where the royal families had lived for centuries. While Cate missed her desperately, she’d been happy for her best friend. This was supposed to be a trip to celebrate her good fortune and reunite. But Cate was feeling less than celebratory.
“In other, less stellar, news, Charlie just dumped me,” she whispered loudly into the phone. “So have the Ben and Jerry’s ready. Or whatever type of ice cream people in this country eat after a breakup. I’ll see you soon. Love you!”
In an attempt to hang up the phone, she knocked it out of her hand and it plopped right into the open toilet bowl. Bubbles cascaded to the surface as her only means of communication settled itself at the bottom of the porcelain throne with a loud thunk. Cate gasped and began to reach for it, but paused just before her fingers broke the water line.
This was an airport bathroom. The filthiest of all public spaces. Did she dare stick her hand in there and retrieve what was probably already a lost cause? A bag of rice wasn’t going to fix that baby. And a million gallons of soap might not scrub away the bacteria that would cling to her hand after such a mission. Thirty was too young to die from a mysterious bathroom disease. She bit her lower lip and considered. And as she did, the automatic flusher flashed red and went off, swirling away the phone into the unreachable land of sewage and taking with it all her hopes of ever getting it back.
“No, no, no.” She let loose a stream of curses that would’ve made her mother blush. “Come back. I need that.”
It was too late. The phone was gone. Cate stumbled out of the stall and to the bathroom mirror. Inspecting her face, she cringed at the raccoon eyes her mascara had left her and the sloppy remains of her lipstick. She needed a fresh start. Grabbing a paper towel, she went to work erasing the makeup and the memories of the last twelve hours.
At that moment, a young woman bumped her shoulder, causing her to stumble dramatically. Despite the effects of the alcohol and the towel over her face, she managed a graceful recovery and clung to the sink for support.
Turning to face her assaulter, she gasped when she caught a glimpse of the woman’s face. She’d never seen anything so beautiful and portrait perfect. Her skin was extremely pale and smooth, like the tiny c
hina saucers her mother had passed down from her great grandmother. She had large oval brown eyes and amber hair that fell to her shoulder blades. Cate wouldn’t be surprised to find out she was a model or an actress. Surely, someone that frightfully gorgeous belonged on the cover of a magazine.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry” the woman said with a slight Spanish accent. She grabbed a tissue from the counter and dabbed her watery eyes.
Cate watched her out of the corner of her eye for a long moment. Clearly, the woman was in distress. No matter how hard she tried to stop them, large crocodile tears would not stop spilling out onto her cheeks. Finally, she gave up the battle and began to sob into the tissue.
“Are you okay?” Cate forgot her own momentary crisis and turned to face the woman. “What’s wrong?”
The woman shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Handing her another tissue, Cate perched herself on the edge of the countertop. “Want to talk about it?”
The woman fixed her with a troubled frown and moaned. While Cate was certainly no fashionista like her ex-roommate, she could recognize quality when she saw it. Everything this woman wore, from the silky red blouse that clung to her thin frame, to her perfectly tailored pants and black patent heels, was designer. A thick jeweled necklace hung around her neck and a simple antiqued gold band adorned her right pointer finger.
“I don’t want any of this,” the woman said through stifled tears. “The money, the power, nothing. All I want is him.”
She didn’t know what the woman was talking about, but she knew a broken heart when she saw one. Patting her on the back, she gave her a hopeful smile. “Can you find a way to make it work?”
“My family has forbid us.” The woman cried harder. “They’ve sent me here, to pull us apart.”
A grimace pulled at Cate’s mouth. They lived in the twenty-first century. Surely, they were advanced enough that women didn’t need the permission of their family to date who they wanted. The very idea made Cate stiffen with anger. No one told her what to do. Certainly not when it came to matters of the heart.
Drop Dead Single: Vampire Romance (A Monstrana Paranormal Romance Book 1) Page 1
