Drop Dead Single (Monstrana Paranormal Romance 1)

“Fine, fine. Whatever you say.”

With a last sigh, he pushed himself from the table and left the dining room. All down the hall, the echo of two teenaged werewolves’ mocking laughter followed him, making him bristle with disapproval.

?

There had to be a way out of this mess. That’s what Cate repeated to herself over and over again when they finally led her back to her room for the night after a long and painful dinner with the prince and the other contestants. She scrambled about the room, looking for something that could help.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They hadn’t even provided her a telephone. Not that she had Miranda’s number memorized. And with her cell phone floating down a river of sewage somewhere, she was stuck. In a moment of pure panic, she thought about stuffing a note into a bottle and throwing it out the window, hoping against hope that it w

ould lead to her friend. But that idea was ridiculous and she had to get a grip if she was going to get through this night unscathed.

Hugging her torso, she dropped onto the bed and moaned. Things couldn’t get much worse.

Dinner that night had been torturous. Prince Viktor had hardly uttered a word. Instead, he’d spent pretty much the whole time scowling into his plate. Duchess Jezebel and Lady Joy had kept the conversation going. Cate only answered direct questions about herself, too busy looking for an exit than to participate in the meal. There hadn’t been a good time to bring up the dreadful mistake. Instead, she’d suffered through and ended back at her suite shortly before midnight.

A knock sounded at one of the closet doors. Cate sat up, her eyes widening in alarm. Surely, this castle had good enough security to keep out creepers that liked to prey on young, vulnerable women. Of course, it hadn’t been good enough to keep her out.

She tiptoed to the closet and pressed her ear against the door, listening for the telltale raspy breath of a man wanting to catch a glimpse of her in her unmentionables. The perv. Determined not to be caught unawares, she threw the door open and shrieked when a blonde figure fell forward and nearly landed at her feet.

“Joy!” She scrambled to help the woman up and pulled her to her feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that was you.”

The door hadn’t led to a closet at all. A huge room opened up behind Joy, filled with plush couches, a gigantic television set, and a small dining table. A mouth-watering spread had been left on the table, complete with giant glass bottles of the darkest red liquid. Cate could only assume it was wine. She immediately swore to herself that she wouldn’t touch the stuff. The vodka from the plane had already given her a semi-hangover and she needed to keep her wits about her. No more alcohol.

“It wasn’t my intention to frighten you.” Joy brushed off her pink flannel pajama bottoms and righted her thin camisole. She had the sweetest southern twang when she spoke. “But I reckoned you might be famished. Come and join us, won’t you?”

It was the first time Cate got a good look at her. If ever there had been a real-life version of a porcelain doll, it was Joy. She had delicate features, a tiny nose, sweet flushed cheeks, and skin so smooth it looked unreal. Her head was covered in perfect golden ringlets that reflected the lights above. On her right hand, she wore a similar antiqued ring on her index finger.

Cate brushed her own ring with her thumb, thankful she’d accepted the gift from the airport stranger. Apparently, it was a customary thing to wear around here. Almost every person she met had such a ring. It was strange to her, but not unwelcome. She’d never liked bulky jewelry. Simple and understated were more her style.

“You’ve got food?” she asked, her stomach growling. She’d barely eaten anything at dinner. Two steps into the room and she was almost salivating. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Joy waved her hand and smiled. “It’s for all of us. Help yourself.”

She went straight for the spread, filling a plate with the most delectable of pastries and dips. The castle obviously had a great catering service. One bite into a strange round biscuit had her nearly melting into the floor in pleasure.

“Careful, my dear.” Jezebel’s raspy voice snapped her out of her revelry. “A minute on the lips, forever on the hips.”

She was draped over one of the couches, her knees barely covered by the black satin baby doll nightgown. Her massive amounts of mochaccino brown hair fell over her shoulders in waves, as if she’d just left the salon with a blowout. She had almond-shaped eyes that observed Cate with an almost predatory glint. When she smiled, her painfully white teeth appeared sharp and dangerous.

Cate wondered at it all. There didn’t seem to be one single ugly person on this island. It was as if they’d outlawed their very presence. Everyone here was achingly beautiful. Even the prince himself. She was glad she made the cut. Standing next to Jezebel, she felt insecure for the first time in a long time.

“I think I’ll be okay,” she threw back at the smirking temptress. No need to be intimidated by a woman who so clearly lacked manners. “I heard Prince Viktor appreciates a woman with a hearty appetite.”

Jezebel rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the flashing television screen.

Joy bounced around at her elbow, making little mewing sounds. “Do you really think he prefers a woman who eats a lot? My mother always said I ate like a bird. Do you think he’ll hate me?”

She put a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder and leaned in close. “Honestly, I haven’t got a clue what Prince Stiffo likes. I just hate condescending she-bots like Jezebel. She’s not getting under my skin.”

Joy shuddered with a muffled giggle, her eyes growing wide with understanding. “What do you think he’s really like?” she asked as the TV flashed images of the greeting ceremony across the screen.

Cate grimaced at the picture of her standing between the two beautiful women. She looked so out of place with her street clothes and stunned expression. Not at all like she was competing in some twisted version of Joe Millionaire.

“Rude, stuck-up, and entirely too good looking for his own good,” she huffed.

“You’ve met him before?” Joy helped herself to a giant glass of the blood-red wine, gulping it down. A tiny girl like her would be drunk in seconds. Cate eyed her as she refilled her glass.

“Briefly. We ran into each other in the halls before the ceremony. He wasn’t very happy to meet me.”