Cruel Union (Brutal Universe #1) Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Brutal Universe Series by Evangeline Anderson
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
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“No, Bartly, not today,” Slade answered. “Today we’re here for my wife—isn’t she gorgeous?” He put an arm around me and smiled proudly.

“She’s beautiful,” the elevator attendant agreed, making me blush. I wished Slade would stop showing me off! Then again, it was kind of nice to be thought of as beautiful. I had been nothing but a spinster princess—just my brother’s hostess, back home on L’Crist.

“Take us to the ladies clothing floor,” Slade said. “We’re going to be doing some serious shopping.”

“Which floor, Sir?” the attendant asked. “We have outerwear, lingerie, and shoes.”

“Hmm…” Slade looked down at me, his brow wrinkling. “Let’s start with outerwear, shall we?”

“I guess.” I shrugged. “I brought plenty of clothes with me but I wouldn’t mind getting something that would help me fit in with your family.” I could still see the nasty-nice smile on his stepmother’s face when she called my gown “old-fashioned.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to get you,” Slade promised me. “Come on, Princess—let’s shop.”

And shop we did. The lift let us out into a floor absolutely filled with all the latest Rigelis Nine women’s fashions.

I looked around in awe as we wandered through the racks of clothing. Every few feet there was a holo display, showing a woman actually wearing the clothing that was for sale. The holograms modeled, turning from side to side so you could see every angle.

The only thing that worried me was that all the clothing seemed to be made with skinny women in mind. I didn’t see anything that was going to fit my broad hips or wide behind—especially since the Rigelis Nine fashions were much tighter than the clothes I was used to wearing on L’Crist. I hoped I wasn’t about to be embarrassed in front of Slade when nothing he tried to buy me fit!

But I barely had time to worry before a female attendant wearing a neat green smock came over.

“Well hello, Sir and Madam,” she said brightly. “It’s lovely to have you here with us today. Is there anything in particular I can get for you to try on?” She looked at me. “What’s your size, Madam?”

“Oh, er…” I was immediately embarrassed because I had no idea what my “size” was. As a princess, I never lacked for clothing but I wasn’t used to shopping for it. The palace employed a seamstress who made the Royal Family’s outfits so we all just wore what she gave us.

Velma was a dear old soul, but she had rather stuffy tastes. The gowns she made for me were the exact same fashion as the ones she’d made for my mother—and my grandmother before her—and they were all extremely modest. Most of them had long sleeves, high necklines, and long skirts—I had never worn a short skirt that showed my legs or a pair of trousers in my life. And I never, ever wore dresses that showed cleavage—that was considered scandalous.

“I think you’ll need to measure my wife to see what size she’ll be here,” Slade answered the saleslady, coming to my rescue. “She comes from a different planet and I’m sure the sizing is different there. Isn’t that right, Princess?” he asked, looking down at me.

“Er, yes. Yes, it is.” I nodded gratefully.

“Very good—that’s not a problem,” the saleslady chirped. Reaching into the pocket of her smock, she pulled out a device that looked like a bar of silver. It was about as long as my middle finger and twice as thick. “This is my measure-all,” she explained as she had me step forward and placed the silver bar on top of my head. “Just hold still and it will give me all your measurements.”

I felt a slight tingling and then I was suddenly enveloped in a bright blue circle of light that made me blink. It zipped up and down my body several times and then I heard a soft beep and the attendant took the bar off my head.

She held it in front of her face and pressed a button on the side.

“Hmm—it says here that you’re a Zetta double-plus-extra-curvy,” she said to me. “We have an extra-curvy section on the other end of the department—just follow me.”

Slade took my hand and we followed her as she bustled down the aisles until we found ourselves in a section of larger clothes. I let out a private sigh of relief. At least they had things that would fit me—even if most of them looked terribly immodest, at least compared with what I was used to wearing.

“Is there anything in particular I can find for you?” the saleslady asked.

I opened my mouth, but Slade beat me to it.

“Yes, I want to see this in my wife’s size,” he said, pointing to a red dress. “And this and this—oh and also these.”

“Absolutely, Sir!” The attendant nodded and began gathering the clothing he was pointing out, pulling my size off the racks with lightning speed.


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