The Orc Who Said Nothing

I'm not looking for true love on another planet. I'm just there to take the record. Every word, exactly as spoken.

Ten years as a court reporter, and I'd have testified under oath that Valdrek of Clan Stormbreak was exactly as quiet as everyone said. The orc who answers in four words and stops. The whole island calls him the quiet one who says nothing.

I'd like to amend the record.

Because behind a closed door, the man of no words has plenty to say. He undresses me slowly, and tells me exactly what he's going to do before he does it. He talks me through all of it until I can't think straight, and for the first time in ten years, I lose the words.

The silent one, it turns out, was only saving them.

I came here to keep everyone's words but my own. I didn't expect a giant who says nothing in public to spend every word he saved on things I could never put on the record.

For readers who love short and spicy fated mates, orc romance, scent bonds that bypass all higher brain function, a quiet grumpy giant who's devastatingly verbal behind a closed door, monster size difference (everywhere), he-falls-first-and-harder, claiming bites, praise and possession, and a dry-witted heroine who records everyone's story but her own.