Kendra L. Saunders
THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Dating an Alien Popstar
Copyright ©2016 Kendra L. Saunders
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63422-176-4
Cover Design by: Marya Heiman
Typography by: Courtney Nuckels
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Space travel had never come easy for Griffin, even in the small jumps from his planet to a neighboring moon, but nothing could have prepared him for the head-jarring, stomach-wrenching mess that was landing on Earth. Especially landing in Manhattan’s Chinatown.
“Don’t stand yet,” a familiar voice said. Between the dizziness and nausea, it took all of three blinks before Griffin could clear his dazed head and focus his eyes on his best friend. “I mean it, Griff. Don’t stand up until after you’re sick.”
“Sick? I won’t be sick.” Griffin sat up, raising his head in the haughtiest manner he could. Unfamiliar gravity and pollution were certainly not going to stop a prince of Kalesstria from behaving like a prince. He managed to regain his feet, and even to open his mouth to say something, but then his stomach betrayed him and he bent in half to lose what seemed to be the entire contents of his guts all over the strange, gray-colored ground.
“Told you,” Dev said. “You really need to learn to listen to me one of these days.”
Griffin waited out a second wave of sick, this one turning out to be nothing but sputtering and dry coughs, before straightening and shooting his friend a scowl. Dev’s crossed arms perfectly matched the somewhat smug look on his face.
“We need to acquire new clothing, so we can blend in while we create our personas,” Griffin said, though his legs were still weak and his body hurt from toes to hair roots. He hadn’t felt this jostled since he’d walked through the wrong travel tunnel and ended up on an abandoned mining facility on a nearby planet called G16’s moon.
Or, no, maybe he’d felt worse when he’d attempted to drink a whole bottle of mood enhancer in one sitting. Maybe.
“Are you certain you can even walk yet?”
“I’m walking now, aren’t I?” Griffin said, stumbling forward. He checked and double-checked that he was still wearing a chain around his neck, and more importantly, the warm, gently pulsing home stone that hung from it. He tucked it under his collar to keep it hidden and, hopefully, safe. He'd chosen the stone himself, had it placed into a setting, and wore it whenever he traveled away from Kalesstria, as much for the energy it provided as for reminding him of home.
“You’re walking like a newborn balak.”
Balaks were quite possibly the least coordinated animals on their home planet, and the babies even more so. Griffin shoved his friend, and then raised his eyes and looked around at his new surroundings. For years, he’d dreamed of walking on this planet, of touching the trees, wearing the colorful clothes, and eating the strange food. Although he’d always held out hope that he might convince his father and the Travel Alliance to allow him to come here, it had seemed unlikely.
“We’re here,” he said quietly, as much to himself as to Dev. “We did it. We’re here!”
Dev stepped up beside Griffin, patting him on the back.
“Clothes. Clothes first,” Griffin said, waving one impatient hand in the direction of his standard uniform—all black, clean lines, and dull, gold buttons. “No one dresses like this here.” Griffin turned toward his friend, leaning in until their heads were almost touching. “Where’s the human money?”
Dev produced a wad of light green paper. “This is the local money, I’ve been told. Dunno what the fuss is all about, though. It’s just a lot of trees they’ve torn up.”
Griffin snatched the money away, sorting through it. “These are one-hundred dollar bills, so they’re worth a lot. I know almost all of their denominations of paper money, you know.”
“Oh, glory.” Dev rolled his eyes.
“You’re always going on about learning things before trips. Guess I have one over on you for once, huh?” Griffin snickered and hid the money in his jacket pocket. “We’ll buy something to wear for now until we can find a human companion.”
“Or we could save time and just find a human companion first, Griff.”
“No! We’ll change into human clothes and then seek out a helper.”
Dev sighed, but he didn’t argue this time.
“Now,” Griffin said, taking a deep breath of Manhattan’s strange, heavy air. “Let’s go find some clothes.”
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