Description
Love cliches? Hate cliches? Either way, this story murders them, marinates them, and fries them up for your consumption pleasure, seasoned with a touch of sarcasm and a dash of romance. If you've ever been frustrated by a MC, this story might be cathartic for you. Anne is extraordinarily ordinary. She's reasonable and practical. She feels adrift in a boat of sanity in an ocean of crazy erratic behaviour in the werewolf world. She dreads the day she will find her destined mate. Obviously, she would love to find her perfect match, that other half who would love her beyond the moon and back. But why would she want the potential problems that come with finding that one? She's observed them all. She would rather live without an abrupt irrational rejection, or the lack of communication, abductions, unplanned pregnancies, cheating, love triangles, obscure prophesies, unexpected hybrid powers, stalkerish tendencies, adult tantrums, reckless stupidity and layers upon layers of secrets, plots and lies. Still, Anne knows that what will be, will be, but she's in no rush to find him just yet. And then she does. Prince Arthur, heir to the werewolf throne and future alpha of alphas, comes riding into her small town on a motorbike on empty and stops for gas. He's everything she could have dreamed of if she had let herself: strong and loyal and brave and decent. And he's hot. Smokin' hot. You could cook bacon on his rock hard abs. Literally. And that face. Yikes! There's no obvious downside. Except other people and their mate problems keep following Arthur and Anne around and complicating their peaceful happily ever. UPDATES: On Fridays (hopefully) I'm not going to edit this very much. Feel free to still point out my mistakes.
Greetings & Introduction
