Hello, my alien lovers!

I'm so thankful for my husband. The other day, an emergency came up, and I had to miss work to help a friend. I was supposed to bring a cake to the office for a Goodbye Party for one of our workers. Charlie, my husband, jumped to the occasion and helped delivered the cake instead.

It's just one of the many things he does to support me and my work in the DTES (in poverty reduction), and to help me build my publishing company (more on that later this year).

So, on this Shabbat, I want to remind myself how grateful I am to have such a wonderful man in my life. Without him, I wouldn't be able to send these weekly newsletters to you.

Thank you, Charlie! 💞

Welcome to Chapter 29!

Charlie helps me proofread chapters before I send them. I asked him what he thought of this one, and he said, "Maple is playing hard to get. She doesn't know what she wants."

I love Romance because it's a genre that lets me explore complicated women and their complicated feelings. Charlie is right, Maple doesn't know what she wants—or maybe she does and is repressing her true feelings?

For how long? Read along to find out...

Enjoy!

lunus 🩷

If you're new to the story, start with Chapter 1

If you missed the last chapter, Previously on Perilous Love Stars

EXCLUSIVE: Ermet Ersweld rushed to Saint Paul’s Hospital!

By Peyter Panffer

In yet another shocking turn of events, Ermet Ersweld, CEO of Ersweld Included, the production company and studios behind Betteraves & Betrayals, was found alive earlier today in a Vancouver hotel room after having been missing for three days. Sources close to the story confirmed the heir of the Ersweld fortune was found around 9 am this morning by a housekeeper and immediately rushed to the hospital for severe dehydration.

Ersweld was believed to have been kidnapped after his lover and star of the show, Marsha Marshweld, announced receiving a letter from the kidnapper(s) three days ago. Forever Soapy reached out to the Vancouver Police Department for more information, who confirmed that Ersweld was found alone in the room and that no arrest has been made at this time. An official investigation for kidnapping and unlawful confinement has been opened. 

Article excerpt from Forever Soapy, July 20XX

Maple paused in front of Salvatore’s room. She brought her hand to the door but didn’t knock. She was too anxious.

There was the anxiety around the alien divide striking again. They were so close to Daphne’s house, just a few more hours of driving. She could do it with raucous teenagers in the backseat, but the risks were high. Nobody had recognized or followed them since they’d left the diner yesterday, although that could all change instantly. Three glowing alien teenagers would attract too much attention. Salvatore and Maple had more secrets to protect than just their kiss. She couldn’t afford to bring the press to Daphne’s house and risk revealing to the world she’d lied to everyone. Her plan, resting on a fragile castle of lies, could only be successfully executed by keeping scavenging reporters at bay.

The other anxiety wrestling her mind, the one she was actively quieting down, was that she’d open the door to find Salvatore, well and in one body. That meant confronting what the two of them had done last night over the phone.

She wasn’t ready for that conversation. The emotional charge and consequences that came with it, the implications for her and the show—all of it. Last night, she’d needed to let go, and Salvatore had helped do just that. Now, in the dry and bright light of day, with the sun sitting high in a smooth blue sky, Maple had to face her actions. If she’d crossed a line with the kiss, what had she done by allowing Salvatore to guide her to an orgasm? There was no going back from that, no take-backs.

She realized she didn’t want any either. Salvatore’s kiss had been full of lust and passion. Last night, he’d gifted her some well-needed respite by making her feel sexy and desirable. Maple couldn’t recall the last time a man made her feel that good in her own body. She knew how to pleasure herself, and did so often while listening to smutty alien romances, but this was another level of pleasure. Nothing could beat the suave voice of secret alien superstar Salvatore Suarez supplying her with masturbation instructions. 

Louder, Boss.

His voice danced in her mind, pulling strings to reveal a shrouded and overwhelming desire for more. But how much more could she ask for before she’d have to pay the price? Their relationship existed in a bubble, and with Maple’s phone still off, she could pretend to be in that bubble for a bit longer. Eventually, though, something or someone would burst it, and she’d have to answer for her actions. Maybe then, she’d be ready to have that conversation with Salvatore.

She inhaled deeply, then knocked.

When there was no immediate answer, Maple’s throat closed off. She’d forgotten to admit a third possibility, one that terrified her more than anything. What if he was dead? What if the disease had—

The door opened to reveal Salvatore, sleep sticking to his face. He rubbed his eyes.

“’Morning,” he said in a scruffy voice. 

“You’re safe,” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him as relief of seeing him alive and well washed over her anxiety. “Baruch Hashem!”

“Dios no hizo nada. Fuiste todo tú.”

“What do you mean?”

He blushed. Scratching his neck, he said, “I believe last night’s… release helped a lot.”

Maple couldn’t hold her wicked grin in. “Wait. Are you saying I’m your medicine?”

His eyes meet hers. They were sharp now, hungry. “Maybe. Want to find out?”

He stepped back, inviting Maple inside her room. She almost followed. She wanted to.

“We should get going.” The words felt wrong on her tongue. She evaded his luscious stare. “We’re only a few hours away from Daphne’s coordinates. Let’s find her.”

Before he could say anything to convince her otherwise, she turned away and walked to the SUV. Maybe she could smoke one of his cigarettes while he got ready. Maybe that would help soothe her nerves. Maybe the toxic chemicals would help make sense of her conflicting feelings for Salvatore.

Maybe.

The three hours it took them to reach the coordinates went by in a buzz of hoarded candies from the gas station and hardcore, instrumental deep bass from a local radio station. The heavy rhythms helped clear her mind from all distractions. She needed to figure out a follow-up to her initial plan to bring Daphne back to the show. Now that they were almost there, how would she convince the actress to come back with them to Sobriquet Lake? Maple had thought she’d have time to devise something to convince the actress during the trip. Between the alien divide, Peyter, and the country’s entire public opinion obsessing over her undefined relationship with Salvatore, she hadn’t done much thinking. She would have to do what she did best—improvise and roll with the punches. 

The car stopped as the GPS beeped their arrival at the destination. They’d been driving on a dirt road, digging deeper into a dense forest for miles. The road stopped right where it met the emerald waters of a lake. Trees surrounded the body of water. In its centre stood a bushy island, crowded with more trees.

There was no house in sight. 

“Are we sure this is the right spot?” Maple asked, stepping out of the car. 

Salvatore followed, scanning their surroundings. “Yes. My GPS is infallible.”

She felt her chest tighten. She was going to choke. They’d come all this way for nothing! There was no house, and she doubted Daphne lived in trees. Brooklyn’s intel was bad, and now Maple would lose everything. 

“Look.” Salvatore pointed at the island. “See that reflection over there?”

Maple squinted. She saw trees. “Not really. Where?”

He moved behind her, raising his arm to point, inviting her eyes to follow along. “There. If you look closely and forget that you are supposed to see trees, what do you actually see?”

She saw more trees. Their foliage rustling in the wind, shades of green and brown dancing in sync. She kept looking. 

More trees. More leaves. More… wait.

There was something amidst the leaves. Keen strikes of silver. She stared at it, holding on to the vision. It was difficult, the lights always changing, shaping itself in and out of Maple’s gaze as if it were running away from her perception. There was something wrong with the trees, or at least, there was more to them. 

She blinked and fell backwards, dizzy. Salvatore was there to catch her. 

“What is this?” she croaked, confused. 

“A perception filter. Alien technology. I forgot how rough it is for human eyes, sorry.”

She shook her head, pushing herself off him. He had invited her into his room, and she said no. The least she could do was not send him mixed signals. “No need to apologize, I’m fine.” 

She walked to the car to get her water bottle. She drank, closing her eyes. Her head stopped spinning. “Do you think the filter is hiding the house?”

Salvatore stood on the opposite side of the car. “Yes. You said Daphne didn’t want to be found.”

“I said she was a recluse. Why would a recluse need an alien perception filter? And how did she get one?”

“Maybe the same way I got the SUV. She bought it.”

Wealthy people could spend millions on alien technology, which made sense to Maple. However, the SUV and the perception filter were military-grade equipment. Why did two soap actors need such apparatus?

“Why would Daphne need a perception filter?” She repeated, trying to make sense of it.

“I don’t know. But I know how to get to the island.”

“How?”

Salvatore grabbed a rock from the ground, throwing it at the water. Instead of reaching the surface, the rock hit something. A thud echoed, and the light shifted again, undulating where the water had been seconds ago to reveal a small, wooden boat.

“Another filter,” Maple noted in a sullen tone.

Daphne was using alien technology to hide herself from the world. She didn’t want to be found, and that’s precisely what Maple was trying to do. It dawned on her how reckless her plan was, that it rested on the preconceived idea that Maple would dazzle Daphne into forgiving her for trespassing on her private property. She had to think of something really fucking convincing to say before they found the actress. 

“How do we pilot it? There’s no motor, no paddles,” Maple remarked when they got close to the boat.

It was a small craft made of tired, deep brown wood that’d seen better days. Maple wasn’t sure it would hold both of their weights. 

“Let me handle that,” Salvatore said, offering his hand to help her get on the boat. 

She used him to steady herself as she stepped onto the craft. It wobbled dangerously. 

Maple crouched, grabbing the edges of the boat, and watched as Salvatore joined her, his body at ease with the reel of water.

“Now what?” she asked.

Salvatore lifted his arms in response. The water bubbled around them, swaying the boat. Maple held on tighter. She knew how to swim and wasn’t afraid of water; she just didn’t feel like taking an impromptu bath before meeting Daphne Dutrignon.

Slowly at first, then with increased speed, the boat floated towards the island, Salvatore’s arms raised in the air, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. Wind blew through his dark curls, his face absorbing and reflecting the light simultaneously. Maple was reminded of Maurice’s excitement when blocking scenes on set with Salvatore for the first time. “It’s like shining a spotlight on the sun itself, a futile exercise,” he’d said.

As they approached the island, Salvatore’s arms fell to his sides, sweat dripping down his neck. The boat’s speed decreased to a slow cadence before stopping near the shore. Salvatore held on to a tree trunk leaning off the island and pulled them closer to the land. 

He gestured to Maple. “My Lady.”

Once more, she used his hand to lift herself off the wooden craft. The palm of his hand was hot. She felt the contact with her cold skin and shivered, picturing the same hand travelling across her body, warming every part of her.

Wanting to put some distance between her and Salvatore, Maple hastened away, which was a mistake. She hadn’t adjusted to being back on solid ground and staggered.

Salvatore grabbed her arm, steadying her. “You’re okay, Boss?”

“I’m fine.” She pulled away. “Let’s go find Daphne."