Page 1 of Guarded By an Alien Hunter

Chapter 1

Katie

Today is the day when my new alien bodyguard arrives at my home.

I glance at my cell phone. In fact, he will be here in exactly thirty minutes.

Holy shit.

He’s originally from another planet but now lives on Earth and works for a high-tech security agency called Spartan Shield Corp, which sounds impressive.

My dad calls him “the best hunter in the known universe.”

I bite at my lip and look around my home. I've been frantically cleaning since the moment I found out this guy was arriving but there’s still so much to do, considering my new bodyguard insists on living here with me to provide the ultimate amount of protection.

He’s going to basically move in for the next month, at least.

This is so weird. I’m thankful to have this type of protection, considering my life has changed to the point where strangers now send me death threats. I really do need security. But I’ve never had a bodyguard and I don’t even know how this works. Do they always move into the same house with the person they’re protecting?

I guess so.

I’ve worked hard on the front room and the kitchen this entire morning. The spare bedroom, which is really my home office, is still a cluttered mess and the floor needs to be swept again.

I grab the broom and get to work.

Stacks of books are quickly put away where they belong, in the bookcase. My two-bedroom home is nothing fancy, but it does have lots of quirky, historic, San Francisco charm which I love. I pick up anything else on the floor, readying to sweep. My home is great, but it’s also hard to clean, considering it’s over a hundred years old with fancy baseboards and nooks and crannies that always need dusting. The hardwood floors are worn but glossy and all the baseboards, doors and windows are restored originals.

Both bedrooms have views of trees and the back of the house. But the views out the front windows are epic.

I’m able to afford this special place because it was purchased for me by my parents. I don’t pay rent and instead own this house.

How lucky am I?

This is all because my family has invested in San Francisco real estate for generations, and now we are each able to own a historic home in the winding streets of the city we love.

My parents live in the house I grew up in, in Pacific Heights, that they inherited, and despite all the narrow stairs, declare they are never leaving. My grandparents still live in a grand old house my grandmother inherited from her mother, and she and my grandfather have remodeled it to perfection. My aunts, uncles, cousins and siblings each own their own homes too in the city, all of which were either inherited or were purchased for them.

After I turned twenty-five and finished college, it was my turn. When I came back home after a bad break up and started a decent entry level job, my family used part of my inheritance to buy this small home for me. It’s fully paid for and I’ve been living here for two years.

Shelby, my best friend from childhood, was my roommate, but she recently moved to LA for a promotion. I’m sad that she’s gone, but the good news is that I don’t have to rush to find a replacement roommate because I don’t have to worry about rent or a mortgage. I have the freedom to choose to live alone.

My college was paid for too, and my job pays for everything I need. When I go on family vacations, my parents pay for that too. This means I don’t have much credit card debt and even my car is paid for.

Basically, I’ve got it good. I know my life is way easier than most other people and I don’t take that for granted.

I tackle a pile of clean clothes on the spare bed, fold them and put them away, and make sure the room looks nice and neat. Shelby took her furniture with her, so I recently bought couches for the front room, a new TV and this extra bed for visitors. Everything is bright and light, which makes me happy because the weather can get dark and cloudy around here.

I rush through the front room, putting away the broom, and glance out the front windows. Fog still covers the bay and the buildings down below. A wide smile spreads across my face because this view never gets old. I love seeing it throughout the change of seasons. Not everyone in my family cares about a stunning ocean and city view like I do. They enjoy other pockets of town better, but I live on a hilly, tree-lined street with sweeping views of the bay. My historic little neighborhood is safe and charming, filled with tall, narrow houses that are well-kept and painted in lively colors. It’s the kind of location where aperson could live their whole life and never move away, because finding something better is impossible.

Shelby took her cat that I liked more than I realized and it’s been pretty darn quiet around here. No friend to chat with or cute pet to spoil. Just work, home and time with family. Mainly work and home.

Maybe I’m ready to try again for a new boyfriend. I’ve had no luck finding someone “normal” on any of those dating apps, so I gave up and now I’m thinking of getting a dog or a cat. Or both.

Then that dreaded jury duty letter came in the mail. Ugh. I hate jury duty. Why do I get called in so often? It’s crazy.

I still get paid if I’m gone for jury duty, but there's a lot going on at my job, and I kind of feel bad being gone, because that's more work for everyone else who must take over my projects. And I still, I admit, try and do some work from home.

I didn’t think much of it at first, just a day off from work.

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