Griffin and Dev are supermassively sexy aliens from a politically and environmentally troubled planet who arrive on Earth with very little knowledge about human ways other than what they learned from a wayward E! News signal. Their mission is to pretend to be the most influential people on the planet—English pop stars, of course!—and gain the help of a powerful secret society. Upon arriving, they abduct Daisy Kirkwood, a nerdy young woman who loves music but could seriously use a bit of help in the love-life department. Though Griffin and Daisy initially squabble, neither can deny the intergalactic sparks whenever they’re too close to each other. Together, they must face murderous aliens, cultural misunderstandings, bad backup musicians, and the dark side of fame and the media, all set against a tight deadline…
Part High Fidelity, part Bridget Jones’ Diary, part Doctor Who, Dating an Alien Pop Star is a sexy romantic comedy.
Griffin raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you afraid of me?”
“I didn’t say I’m afraid!”
“But are you?”
“No!”
“Good.” He kicks off his shoes. “This will be a nice period of bonding for us, Wanda.”
“Why are you here?” I demand, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing my arms over my chest. “You say you want to become the most powerful being on the planet with your music and all of that, but why?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It’s my planet, so it is my business. You’re not planning to brainwash all of us, and then harvest our organs or something, are you? Keep our livers in jars in a spaceship somewhere? Burn the planet and then plant your weird medicinal drugs here?”
Griffin stalks closer to me with every word, until he’s standing directly in front of me, the glowing light in his eyes showing through the lenses. “And if I am, do you think you’re going to stop me?”
A shudder traces through me. I’m not sure if it’s because of his words or because he’s standing so close. “I’ll have to stop you,” I say in a very brave tone. Okay, actually, it’s not brave at all. More like a wheezy whisper. But Bjork or Kim Gordon wouldn’t just bow down to an alien invasion without at least attempting to protect their planet, and neither will I.
Before I can fully process what’s happening, Griffin’s pinned me down, holding my wrists against the bed under his hands. His body, though slight, feels substantial and warm against mine—simultaneously threatening and a bit of a turn on. “You don’t know me very well at all, do you, Wanda?” he whispers, and I want to correct him about my name, but I find it hard to say anything at all. “I would never come all the way to your planet just to enjoy the food and then destroy it. I’m not cruel!”
“I don’t know anything about you, other than your bad taste in clothes,” I say, but his weight pressed against my pelvis has my body pulsing and warm all over. Bad, bad, bad.
“Then look into me, why don’t you? You could see anything you wanted, if you’d just look. I’d let you.”
When I shake my head, he releases me, climbing right over top of me to take his place on the bed. I can feel the mattress shaking a bit, and I gather my wits enough to sit up and glance at him. He’s maneuvered his way out of the rest of his clothes, leaving only the underwear.
Thank God. Especially since my close proximity reveals he’s not doing too bad in that department. Even under a layer of fabric.
“I didn’t say I’m afraid!”
“But are you?”
“No!”
“Good.” He kicks off his shoes. “This will be a nice period of bonding for us, Wanda.”
“Why are you here?” I demand, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing my arms over my chest. “You say you want to become the most powerful being on the planet with your music and all of that, but why?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It’s my planet, so it is my business. You’re not planning to brainwash all of us, and then harvest our organs or something, are you? Keep our livers in jars in a spaceship somewhere? Burn the planet and then plant your weird medicinal drugs here?”
Griffin stalks closer to me with every word, until he’s standing directly in front of me, the glowing light in his eyes showing through the lenses. “And if I am, do you think you’re going to stop me?”
A shudder traces through me. I’m not sure if it’s because of his words or because he’s standing so close. “I’ll have to stop you,” I say in a very brave tone. Okay, actually, it’s not brave at all. More like a wheezy whisper. But Bjork or Kim Gordon wouldn’t just bow down to an alien invasion without at least attempting to protect their planet, and neither will I.
Before I can fully process what’s happening, Griffin’s pinned me down, holding my wrists against the bed under his hands. His body, though slight, feels substantial and warm against mine—simultaneously threatening and a bit of a turn on. “You don’t know me very well at all, do you, Wanda?” he whispers, and I want to correct him about my name, but I find it hard to say anything at all. “I would never come all the way to your planet just to enjoy the food and then destroy it. I’m not cruel!”
“I don’t know anything about you, other than your bad taste in clothes,” I say, but his weight pressed against my pelvis has my body pulsing and warm all over. Bad, bad, bad.
“Then look into me, why don’t you? You could see anything you wanted, if you’d just look. I’d let you.”
When I shake my head, he releases me, climbing right over top of me to take his place on the bed. I can feel the mattress shaking a bit, and I gather my wits enough to sit up and glance at him. He’s maneuvered his way out of the rest of his clothes, leaving only the underwear.
Thank God. Especially since my close proximity reveals he’s not doing too bad in that department. Even under a layer of fabric.
She is the author of DATING AN ALIEN POP STAR, the magic realism novel INANIMATE OBJECTS, dark comedy DEATH AND MR. RIGHT, the upcoming romance THE UNLOVE SPELL, and has conducted interviews with NYT Bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout, goth rocker Aurelio Voltaire, and Project Runway winners Dmitry Sholokhov and Michelle Lesniak Franklin among many, many others.
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Can't wait to read this book.
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