Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Ariel
I broke the law of my underwater kingdom to save a man I was never supposed to meet.
And now? I’m banished. Exiled. My tail split in two and replaced with these ridiculous legs.
The human world is overwhelming, and Everett, the man I rescued, is even more so. He’s kind, protective, and far too tempting.
I want to trust him.
I want to believe I belong here.
But if he finds out what I really am… I’ll lose the only person who’s ever made me feel seen.
Coming this curvy heroines, alpha monsters, and fairy‑tale chaos collide in a whirlwind of dirty declarations, magical matings, and heart‑thumping happily ever afters. For readers who like their fairy tales filthy, heartfelt, and unforgettably fun
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Ariel
Elder Madeline’s voice threads through the water like a ribbon of bubbles. “And one day a giant star fell from the sky, and where it crashed, a crater formed. When the rains came, it filled with water, and from the life that clung to the dead star, our people were born.”
The merchildren ooh and ahh, blowing perfect rings that drift toward the vaulted kelp canopy.
I smile as I glide past, red hair streaming, fingers skimming a school of silver minnows that scatter like gossiping aunties. Same story, same ending. We’re the children of a stubborn star and a very dramatic splash.
Sunlight spears down in liquid columns near the boundary wall, painting everything in stained-glass stripes. The edge of Father’s kingdom—of my known world—glitters like diamonds. I angle my body toward it, tail flicking, pulse matching the soft thump of the lake’s heart.
“Ariel!”
The water shivers around my name. That voice could make Leviathans sit up straight. I stop mid-flick and turn, chin up, because I am definitely not one of those Leviathans.
“Father! I’m busy today.” I fold my arms across my chest. Sure, my tail sways like it does when I’m nervous, but he doesn’t need to know that.
The Lake King drifts toward me with all the disappointed gravitas of a thousand barnacled thrones. His white eyebrows meet in the middle. “Your absence has been noted far too many times.” He tips his head toward the town center. “Community meeting.”
I sigh, the long-suffering kind that says, Fine, I’ll pause my destiny for bureaucracy. “Coming,” I mutter, and follow.
Our plaza is a cathedral of swaying plants—purple fronds with buttery yellow blossoms that wave as if we’re the parade and it’s a holiday. Father settles onto the carved shell throne and gestures for me to hover close.
“You haven’t patrolled in weeks,” he says, voice low. “You’ll go today. You’ll pair with—”
“Not Salina,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Please tell me not Salina.”
“—Salina.” His mouth twitches. “And if you skip it, the council will punish you. I won’t be able to stop it. In fact, I’ll double it.”
I blink. He never uses his king-voice on me. My throat goes hot and tight, and I duck my head so he won’t see it. Around us, mermaids gather in twos and threes, chattering about oyster allotments and merman prospects and whose mother makes the best seaweed dumplings.
None of that interests me. Patrol doesn’t either. Our laws say humans are dangerous and curious in equal measure. My people say we must keep them away. They hate humans.
I… don’t.
“I wish a human would come down here,” Salina purrs at my shoulder. Of course, she’s suddenly there. “I’d tear his gross legs off with my teeth.”
“Good morning to you too,” I say sweetly. “Shall we?”
Salina’s eyes glitter poisonous green. Her long, thin blue tail slashes the water. Salina doesn’t do half-measures. She’s a sharp blade with a single purpose, pleased with her own shine.
We slip past the village, past homes woven from kelp and driftwood, past the coral arch where couples tie their promise knots, and into the open lanes where the plants grow taller and the light turns to honey. Salina talks and talks about how she’d love to “prank” the next boat that dares skitter across our sky.
I stop listening. Patrol is good for one thing, and it’s not listening to Salina fantasize about human carnage. It’s treasure.
Our rules tell us to destroy the human trash. My heart says… but what if it’s beautiful?
Between the fronds, something gleams. I dive, shoulder-first, and find a glass cylinder no taller than my palm. Inside, flecks of gold are suspended in a clear liquid, turning lazily like captured sparks.
“Oh,” I whisper, delighted despite myself.
I tuck it into my messy bun and scan for Salina. All clear. My rock formation waits ahead like a secret mouth in the stone. Inside, my “trash” is safe—a tiny box that hums when you press the right edge, a string of plastic pearls so cheap they’re perfect, and a scratched mirror that still loves my face.
Another cylinder lies half-buried by the entrance—deep green glass with a label in bold purple bearing an ugly skull. I wrinkle my nose at the skull but adore the color and reach—
“What are you doing, Ariel?” Salina’s voice slices the water. She zips up behind me, suspicion coiling around each word. “Were you about to touch that human trash?”
“For goodness’ sake.” I flick two fingers, and—yes, fine—use a quick burst of magic to pop the green bottle out of sight. It hurts my heart a little to do it. “I was avoiding the new trash falling from above. Look.”
We both glance up as a shadow drifts across the sun. Brown cylinders tumble down—silver and blue labels flashing like fish scales.
“I’ll take care of those awful creatures,” Salina says, delighted.