Stone Cold Groom

  A Monster Brides Romance

  S.C. PRINCIPALE

  Copyright Information

  Copyright @ 2024 by S.C. Principale

  The right of S.C. Principale to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed, or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Kit Fox Art

  Editing: Evil Commas Editing

  For questions or further information please contact: scprincipaleauthor@gmail.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  The Rusalka and Mr. Right

  Chapter One

  Velvet Wings

  Chapter One: Lennox

  Chapter Two: Cindy

  Chapter Three: Lennox

  Chapter Four: Cindy

  The Minotaur’s Valentine

  Chapter One: Milo

  Chapter Two: Libby

  Chapter Three: Libby

  Chapter Four: Milo

  Chapter Five: Milo

  About the Author

  Also By S.C. Principale

  Dedication

  Thank you to my Fan-mily at Patreon, Monster Brides Monster Fans, S.C.’s Sultry Sweethearts, MDK, social media, and more. You are the group of readers who are cheering me

  on and believing in me. I love you more than you know. Seriously. The amount of good you give to my soul is unfathomable. I hope I can give some back to you!

  To my writing sisters and monster lovers, Marilyn, Sofia, Edna, Ingrid, Rachel, Judy, Mikayla, Jenny, Melba, Lily, Roslyn, and dozens more. I couldn’t do this without you!

  To the best editor in the world: Judy. Holy cow. You’re amazing.

  Most importantly, to my husband, who has every good quality a human can have, and some that I think are reserved for supernatural beings. I can’t believe I get to call you mine.

  Introduction

  It’s a gorgeous night for a wedding. Genesis just didn’t know it would be his.

  Take one jilted bride crying over the beautiful vows she finds carved on a majestic statue, add in a touch of moonlight, and suddenly—Melinda is getting married after all! The catch? Her groom is a monster she’s never met and didn’t even know existed!

  Genesis is the lone gargoyle in the paranormal-friendly town of Pine Ridge. While it seems like many of his friends are marrying humans, Genesis is determined to hold out for his ideal Ms. Right, a gargoyle gal with talons strong enough to hold his heart and wings that will let them soar off into the moonlight together.

  So when Genesis wakes up to find some sobbing human reciting a binding marriage vow—one he can’t easily get out of—he is not happy.

  As Genesis and Melinda work together to make the best of an unexpected and unwanted situation, they both get another surprise—they’re falling in love. But will that be enough to convince them to stay in a marriage neither of them wanted?

  Monstrous grooms and beastly brides? Don’t be afraid of falling in love... It's super-natural!

  Explore the entire Monster Brides series, one tantalizing happily-ever-after at a time!

  Chapter One

  Tons of people get married when they’re drunk. Heck, look at Vegas. They make a business out of it!

  Very few people get married when they’re asleep.

  You might even say it’s impossible.

  I would have said it was impossible.

  Then, it happened to me. Yep.

  One hell of a way to wake up—especially when you hadn’t even met your bride before the “ceremony,” and she didn’t even know you existed.

  I don’t mean she didn’t know I personally existed. I mean gargoyles.

  Sounds complicated?

  Well, it is and I hate it.

  Crash! Bam!

  “Genesiiiiiiis! Genesis!”

  My “wife” hates it, too.

  Let me start at the beginning.

  “Kelyn’s getting married!”

  My mother’s voice crackles through the screen of my laptop. In fact—I couldn’t have told you it was my mother except from her voice. The camera was currently pointed toward her upper wing.

  “Please tell me it’s not to that sculptor?” I carefully set another stone heart in a straw-lined crate.

  “That sculptor’s name is Logan, and he saved your cousin’s life! Imagine, selling her off as a statue...”

  “It was a dodgy lawn and garden company, wasn’t it? And what was Logan doing associating with those men anyway?”

  “Saving old statuary from being turned into gravel for people’s drives and rock beds!” The camera abruptly turns, and I see my mother’s anguished face. “Can you imagine? Your cousin could’ve been lining someone’s car park.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “He’s a good man, is Logan. He didn’t shriek and panic when she woke up in his studio, and he’s doing his best to honor all the clan customs. What’s more, he’s descended from Clan Comyn.”

  I cast an eye on the white tattoo outlined on my midnight skin. The Clan Davidson crest is tattooed on my bicep, just like it is on Kelyn’s. “Is he getting a tattoo?”

  “Already has it. Now.” My mother’s voice turns hesitant. “You’re like a brother to Kelyn. You know she’s only got her sisters. She wants her heartstone to come from you. You can bring it over when you come the week before the wedding.”

  My stomach twists. I’m no hatchling. I’ve certainly defied the family expectations before by leaving the clan years ago and moving to the States, leading a solitary existence for the last sixty years. (Gargoyles live a long, long time. I’m only a young thing in my “twenties” even after seeing two hundred in the rearview mirror.)

  “I doubt if I’ll attend the wedding, Ma.”

  “What?”

  My stomach forms an intricate braid of nerves. Even though I’m a young, independent male, I don’t like defying my mother. “I don’t like it. Gargoyles and humans have been enemies. Allies. Friends, even. But we’re not meant to be mates.”

  My mother’s delicate periwinkle nostrils flare, and her eyes glow green. “We’re all made by the same Creator.”

  “I know. I know, I’m not saying it’s wrong... It’s just not natural. Kelyn is setting herself up for heartache. She’ll be a widow by three hundred! Maybe sooner.”

  “And I married the finest warrior Clan Davidson had seen in centuries, and I’m a widow all the same. Love while ye may, son.”

  “Our race will die out.”

  “It assuredly will with bigots like you about!”

  “I’m not being a bigot, Ma!”

  “You could have fooled me!”

  “I’m being a realist.” I drag my talons through my hair in frustration. “There are so few gargoyles left in the world. Maybe less than a hundred clans. Our focus should be on finding mates within those clans to make sure gargoyles don’t die out.”

  “Love, if humans marry some of us, if we marry Orcs, or whatever... It doesn’t mean we die out. It means we change. Our blood passes on. That’s all that matters.”

  “Not to me. I’m not coming to the wedding, Ma. But—But I’ll make her heartstone.”

  My mother wrings her hands as she paces past the camera. “God, give me strength. The wedding isn’t for another three months. I pray you change your mind. Kelyn will be devastated if you don’t come.”

  “You don’t have to tell her why. Tell her... Tell her I couldn’t travel. Too risky.”

  “Lying now? Your father would be ashamed, Genesis.”

  “This is all out of proportion. You’re just going to have to accept that we have differing viewpoints, Ma. And besides—humans are tiny. Weak. They break too easy, and they’re flightless, tailless, and soft. They’re frankly—a little bit—ugly. I wouldn’t want to marry someone I’m not attracted to.”

  “No, son, but Kelyn finds her Logan a fine specimen of a fellow. They’re adorable together. Look, I’ll send you their engagement photos—”

  I groan. “Don’t waste your energy. I’m not going to magically think humans are cute.”

  “You have friends that are humans!”

  “I do! But I don’t want to marry them! Look, Georgie and Milo, my two best mates,
they’ve both married humans. They’re lovely girls. Very nice people. I can appreciate they’ve got certain attractive ‘attributes.’ They seem happy together. I bought them both wedding gifts, I’ve gone to their houses for dinner— but it’s just not for me. It’s not for gargoyles.”

  “For a being with night vision, you’re certainly blind. I’m emailing you what Kelyn wants on her heartstone. It’s obviously a little different because he can’t exchange his for hers. The binding vows are different to make sure they take with a human and gargoyle. Can you handle that, or do I have to get Uncle Galatian on this?”

  “Lord, no. Don’t bother him. How’s he doing?”

  “Well, you missed his two-thousandth hatching day celebration. He got roaring drunk, kissed Maudie MacPherson and tried to get her to pull his tail, and fell off his turret. Thank heavens, it wasn’t sunrise yet.”

  “Maudie MacPherson? Who is she?”

  “The lady who runs the castle gift shop.”

  “A human?”

  “Aye, pretty, plump little thing with long blonde hair and a bit of an overbite. But very sweet.”

  Oh, God. Even Uncle Galatian?? “I have to go, Ma. I’ve got an order to take to the Night Market.”

  “Love you! Look out for that email!”

  “Love you.” I end the call quickly.

  Human fever. It’s spreading.

  No one is safe.

  Chapter Two

  “Genesis. I have a massive favor to ask you.”

  I look at Wesley Creighton as he stands before me at the Night Market. Gloria White-Creighton, his wife of less than a year’s vintage, floats beside him.

  “We have a favor to ask you,” Gloria corrects. “This weekend, we’ve rented out White Pines for a wedding. She’s the sweetest girl from Albany, and she fell in love with the place.”

  “Specifically the photos on the website,” Wesley chimes in.

  I frown. I’m sure my dark gray face is wrinkled in confusion. “Pine Ridge is no stranger to outsiders, and you are a wonderful hostess.” I give a gentlemanly bow to Gloria. I’ve known her for years, but it was only recently that she’s been able to leave her estate. As long as Wesley carries her spirit bottle, she can go where she likes—for a day or two, at least. Lately, she’s become one of my best customers. She buys my little decorative stone trinkets at least once a week.

  “Thank you.” Gloria beams at me and jerks her head toward Wesley.

  I smother a sigh. I don’t much like the newcomer, but Wesley makes Gloria happy, and he’s giving her a chance to enjoy an afterlife full of music, friendship, and event planning. I manage a smile, making it extra-fangy. “You’re definitely boosting the economy, Wesley.”

  “Your engraved love tokens, the smooth stones in the shape of hearts with the Celtic love knots and all of that? Everyone we’ve hosted loves them. They sell out instantly. We want to offer them on the all-inclusive package as favors.”

  I suddenly like the too-handsome-for-his-own-good human much better. I don’t need much, but I certainly could use a steadier income. Random sales at the Night Market, foraging, my savings, and living like a gargoyle ought to (with a minimum of frills and furbelows) let me survive.

  This might help me build up my investments and make a nest egg—not that there is anyone to share my nest yet. Female gargoyles are scattered around the world, but I haven’t found an available one on the East Coast in years and years. But, I haven’t given up hope. I’ll find my mate someday. I have time. After all, if my Uncle Galatian is any indicator, I’ll be alive and frisky at two thousand.

  “I can accommodate that.” I smile. I have no overhead for materials. I shed my stone skin every night at sunset and take the pieces for my sculptures and carvings. The only thing I’ll need is time, and aside from Wednesday night Canasta games, I’m pretty much free.

  “We have seven weddings between now and December. Some are fairly small. Some are quite large.”

  “So? A few hundred?”

  “I think we calculated three thousand.”

  “Oh.” I hate betraying any weak emotion like fear, sadness, or surprise. It’s not the warrior’s way. I nod with my lip thin and my voice flat. “By when?”

  “Well, if we could get two hundred by the end of this month and five hundred the next, I think that’d work,” Gloria’s soft voice is factual. “The wedding we have this weekend is pretty small. If you could bring over fifty by Saturday morning, that’d be just smashing! We have spreadsheets now! They tell us the seating needs and the headcount and everything. Wesley set it all up.” She kisses his cheek.

  I can’t help but stare. It’s like she turns more solid for just a second.

  “I can deliver, but it’ll be close. That’s—in two days.” I have the materials, but intricate carving takes hours, and I’m literally unable to move from sunrise to sunset. “I might be getting them there just before dawn, Gloria.”

  “Well... If you could sleep on the garden fountain in front of the hedge maze, that’d be incredible. That’s the other thing we wanted to ask you. The nice girl from Albany, Melinda Kellan—wants wedding photos in front of the “Gargoyle Fountain.” Gloria’s beautiful face is apprehensive and her eyes are wide, framed with dark lashes.

  I suppose I can see some sort of freakish beauty in humans—at least from the neck up.

  “She wants... what?” I blink. “You don’t have a gargoyle fountain. I would know. Uh. Not to contradict you.” I bow again, even deeper this time, with my dark wings folded around my shoulders and trailing down my back like a cape. My smooth, heavy tail curls around one of my long, arching feet and up my calf in a gesture of deference instead of defiance.

  Ergh. Damn bloodlines. I can’t help it. Gargoyles have always been the protectors of nobility, bound by ancient laws and oaths. Gloria is the closest thing to a “lady of the manor” that Pine Ridge has.

  Wesley holds out his phone. “You drank too much at Georgie and Claire’s wedding this spring, danced until almost dawn, and then leapt on top of the big fountain in the back garden to make another toast.”

  My jaw pops open like a barn door in a storm. There I am, in high-res pixels, with my wings spread, body in half crouch as if I’m about to rise, but frozen in stone. I look a little bit like Rodin’s The Thinker. Well, if he’d had some truly magnificent wings.

  “You were kneeling there, getting ready to take off when the sun hit, and...” Gloria trails off with a nervous smile. “You did make a stunning backdrop. We didn’t even think twice about posting it on the website until this lady, Melinda Kellan, mentioned it.”

  “So... you want me to climb back up on your fountain?” I raise one eyebrow slowly.

  “It’s an afternoon wedding in the summer! Moonrise isn’t until quite late. You’ll be asleep.

  “What am I supposed to do if she and her groom take until midnight to get out to the garden? Stay kneeling down in the fountain’s spray for six hours?”

  “You’d do that? Oh, you’re an angel!” Gloria claps her hands with glee.

  I think she missed my sarcasm on purpose, but she is my only steady customer and the most generous soul I’ve ever met.

  I cave. “Angel? No. Although some have mistaken both of us for that—and for quite the opposite.” My eyes glow, burning bright white. It makes me look demonic, especially when I pair it with a look of unholy menace.

  Is it bad that I love how fast Wesley backs up and shoves his phone into his pocket?

  Not so for Gloria. She floats closer, “I’ll make it up to you. An exclusive contract with the White Pines Estate for all the stoneware we sell in the gift shop? Genesis Stoneware all over our website. On the tables at the weddings— people are taking home the vases as centerpieces. They say they’ve never seen stone like it.”

  “I’m not surprised.” I look at my wares with pride—the stone is sleek and gray, but yet it has a radiant iridescence, sort of like mother of pearl, opal, and abalone were all mixed together. The grain is incredibly smooth—as smooth as skin. “It is incredibly rare. Very few people have ever seen gargoyle skin.”

  Wesley looks a little sick.

  Bonus points.

  Gloria gushes. “It’s so smooth with such beautiful glimmers in it. Everyone wonders how you make it look so beautiful. Please? A contract for one Sleeping Beauty photo-op?”