EXTERMINATRIX

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BRYNNE WEAVER

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To (but not ‘for’) ‘Castro’: I told you this was happening. If you need help recovering from being bested by a vagina, just mash the keyboard with your sticky incel fingers and I’m sure one of your two followers will come to your aid eventually.

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CONTENTS

CONTENT WARNINGS

Foreword

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Also by Brynne Weaver

About the Author

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CONTENT WARNINGS

Please feel free to skip this page if you don’t have triggers and prefer to go in blind!

Please be advised that though short and dirty-sweet, Exterminatrix is an adult-content (18+) monster romance with potentially troubling themes that some readers might find triggering.

Potentially triggering content:

Societal inequity and discrimination

References to chronic physical pain

Breath play

Sexually explicit content, including loss of virginity, inequal balance of experience/power, and themes of dominance/submission (all scenes consensual)

References to physical violence

Profanity

References to snakes (or rather, Snakemen) – not everyone loves a danger noodle!

Also, the MMC is a Lizardman… so if you don’t like lizards and reptiles, this might not be the book for you!

This is not a “dark” romance, but if you have any concerns whatsoever related to content warnings, please contact Brynne via Instagram or by email at [email protected]

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FOREWORD

…AKA WHAT’S BRYNNE DOING WRITING A MONSTER ROMANCE?

Valid question.

The answer is: TROLLS.

And how did the trolls find me exactly?

Well, it all happened when Black Sheep took off after the first two lines of the book went viral:

I don’t always fuck a man before I kill him, but when I do, I find there’s one thing they all have in common.

They’re disappointing.

While it was amazing to see the enthusiasm skyrocket for the book, it sure did bring out some misogynist wrath among the neckbeards who happened to encounter all that enthusiasm swirling around on the internet. And while I completely understand and appreciate that not everyone will enjoy my books and reviewers are 100% entitled to those opinions, I do draw a line at attacking me PERSONALLY, particularly when those same attackers also have no intention of ever reading my work or trying to give it even a half-decent shot. Directing vitriol to me as a human being for the simple fact that I’m a woman who wrote some lines some people perceive as ‘gross feminism’ (yes really!) …well… that just doesn’t fly with me.

So, what’s a writer to do?

WRITE. (Duh.)

Write them into monster smut, specifically.

As many writing ideas do, this one struck late at night as I was trying to fall asleep. And when it did, I was giddy with anticipation. Nonetheless, I figured that there did need to be a few conditions on my selection of a monster muse: they needed to be over 18, they could NOT be an actual reader/reviewer of my work, they had to be attempting to attack me personally in some capacity (not just one of my stories, but me as an individual), and they had to have demonstrated similar shitty behavior to other people. I decided that if it happened again, I would start a fun little project out of making that person my muse.

And naturally, the next morning, the universe gave me a gift. The gift of ‘Castro’.

In typical misogynist fashion, Castro came out swinging at me for some meaningless little post about writing, attacking me for being ‘trash’. So, I dug a little into his public profile to ensure he checked off my boxes, which he did. Most notably, he exhibited a history of blatant, unapologetically homophobic and misogynistic comments to other social media users. He was called out for those posts numerous times, but always doubled down on his views.

That fucker was FAIR GAME.

I latched onto Castro harder than a barnacle to the underbelly of an oil tanker.

Like I told Castro, I was determined to give him both the character and the dick(s) he always dreamed of but never had. Thus, Castro the virgin Lizardman was born.

But let me make one important thing very clear: my goal has NEVER been to troll monster romance. I love this genre and I’m genuinely so impressed how some of my favorite monster smut authors (C.M. Nascosta, Naomi Lucas, Katee Robert, Vera Valentine, and Colette Rhodes to name but a few) can make readers fall in love with creatures so thoroughly, whether it’s a dragon or a mothman, a shade or a ‘good little cow’, which trust me, is particularly weird when you have cattle. No, I love this genre, and as with any of my characters, I really care about Layla and her Lizardman. But I also know for a fact that trolls like Castro DON’T like monster smut, (unless they’re reading it in secret), so it’s a great and fitting punishment. As I said to Castro:

The most beautiful part (of this project) is that women will enjoy reading about your character and you’ll get nothing in return. You can make all the shitty comments you want about women being in “men’s spaces”, whatever the fuck that means, and I will STILL make money for a chin-dick ring toss margarita party on you. It’s kismet. I woke up one day thinking ‘I’m going to write misogynistic trolls into monster smut’ and you decided to troll me. It’s fate. Now we’re stuck together FOR ETERNITY! In print! (Or on Kindle!) FRIENDSHIP GOALS.

So, there you have it, the story of how I came to write monster smut novellas. And also how I’m planning a margarita chin-dick ring toss margarita party. Everyone welcome! Except Castro. Stay tuned on my IG for details: @brynne_weaver

Now someone please help me find my next troll for Gumdrop the limp-dick unicorn. They seem to have gone into hiding and only the best troll will do…

All my love,

Bxxx

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1

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CASTRO

I’m crouched between the furnace and the damp, dirty wall, wondering how the fuck my life has come to this moment as I listen to the family a floor above discuss how they’re going to exterminate me.

“We can’t just keep a Lizardman in the basement indefinitely,” the man says as his heavy work boots wear an agitated path across the floorboards, sending spiders scuttling through the shadows. My tongue darts out and snags one. At least there are snacks, I guess.

“We can’t just chuck him out either, poor thing,” the woman replies. “There are creatures out there.”