Alpha House: A Shapeshifter/BBW Novel: The Complete Seven-Part Collection Read online

  ALPHA HOUSE

  A Shapeshifter/BBW Serial Novel

  Lib Starling

  The Complete Series

  Frat boys are animals…

  Roxy has had enough of privileged, rich college guys. They’ve never given her anything but grief, and a big girl like her is just chum in the water at their wild parties. When she turns twenty, she’s finally reached her limit, and ditches her Ivy League hometown for scenic Jackson Hole, Wyoming, as far from any fraternity house as she can get. Or so she thinks.

  But the foothills surrounding Jackson Hole conceal a startling secret: Blackmeade University, a select, private, men’s-only college where nothing is as it seems. Before Roxy can put her foot down, she’s dragged back into the frat-party scene.

  This time, however, everything’s different. Far from being the butt of fraternity jokes, Roxy’s presence sets the brothers of Alpha Delta Phi at one other’s throats – even Chase, the darkly gorgeous junior who can’t wait to get away from Blackmeade and start a new life of his own.

  Is it Roxy’s lush, curvy body that’s driving the members of Alpha House wild? Or is Roxy hiding a fascinating secret of her own?

  This Ebook is the collective series of ALPHA HOUSE, a new serial Shapeshifter/BBW romance by Lib Starling.

  Contents

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  Part 4

  Part 5

  Part 6

  Part 7

  Epilogue

  About the Author & More Books Available

  Copyright Information

  Part 1

  .1.

  R oxy tipped the big ceramic mug carefully in her hand, easing the steamed milk into the caramel-and-espresso brew that waited, sweet and mouth-watering, in its bottom. The coffee and milk blended into a perfect latte-brown as her friend Brooke watched over her shoulder.

  “Good,” Brooke said. “Now slow it down… slower… there. Okay, remember what I showed you with the foam?”

  “I think so.” Roxy gave the steel pitcher a gentle shake, and the raft of rich foam drifted to the pitcher’s mouth. She made one quick pour, then another, and another. Three dollops of foam floated atop the latte. She finished with a last smooth pour, drawing the dollops together into the shape of a perfectly veined white leaf, which floated smack in the middle of the latte.

  “Hey, I did it!”

  “Just like a pro,” Brooke said, flashing her bright grin and tossing her long, sandy hair over one shoulder. “Soon you’ll be the one training all the newbies.”

  Roxy set the mug on a saucer and called the order up. She loved her new job at the Browsing Buffalo Café almost as much as she loved her new life in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. But she doubted there would be any new employees to train for a good, long time. The Browsing Buffalo must have been pretty desperate to hire somebody – anybody – since Roxy could hardly imagine a worse new-hire than herself. When she got the job, she’d had no prior experience in cafés or restaurants, and even lacked in-town references. She’d arrived in Jackson Hole just hours before with everything she owned crammed into the back of her old, Army-green Jeep.

  Roxy hadn’t intended to make Jackson her final destination. The truth was, she hadn’t had the faintest idea where she’d end up. When she’d left Hanover, Roxy hadn’t picked any particular destination or even a route. Her only clear thought had been to put as many miles between herself and the Ivy League town as she could manage, to distance herself from the privileged and the out-of-touch, from the Dartmouth boys who thought their wealth made them untouchable.

  She had allowed her curiosity and the road carry her wherever they would. She’d spent several days in various cities along her meandering route, and found things to like about all of them – Greensboro, Columbus, Sedona, Las Vegas – but when she found herself in small but classy Jackson with its Western charm and stunning scenery, something deep in her heart – something assertive and essential – told her she was home. As she took in the town’s astounding scenery – the violet-blue, bare-granite peaks soaring above the broad sagebrush plains, the sky still bright and clear in the short end of summer – a wave of satisfaction and comfort had swept over Roxy, filling her heart with comfort and satisfaction like she had never known before.

  Almost at once, Roxy had spotted the “Help Wanted” sign on the Buffalo’s door. True, she had been driving for a long time in the summer heat and really needed that iced mocha – the AC in her Jeep wasn’t what it used to be. But still it had seemed like serendipity, like luck was smiling on her at last, and she’d inquired about the position certain that even with her lack of applicable experience, still she couldn’t go wrong. Roxy had found herself in an impromptu interview with Annie, the sweet, motherly old hippie of an owner who had come out from the back kitchen wiping the flour from her hands with her ragged apron. Fifteen minutes later, Roxy had the job.

  Jackson Hole. It still seemed impossible that she was lucky enough to call such a beautiful place her home. She thanked all the stars in the sky that Annie was willing to hire her, and as she stepped outside the aged-barnwood door of the Browsing Buffalo on that first bright day of her new life, she had stared up at the Grand Teton peaks, breathed deep the dusty-green perfume of sagebrush, and sighed with happiness. Even if she didn’t know a thing about working in a café – yet – she already knew that this was where she belonged.

  The Buffalo’s door squealed on its old iron hinges and the cow bell hanging from its handle clattered. Roxy looked up from wiping down the counters and smiled. “Scarlett!”

  She’d only been in town for a couple of weeks, but already Roxy had made two good friends – something that she’d failed to do in an entire lifetime in insular, hoity-toity Hanover. Brooke, her fellow barista, was as warm and generous as a sister, and Roxy liked her from their first day on the job together. The little house Brooke rented with Scarlett still had one room available, and since Roxy had no lodgings save for her Jeep, a pup tent, and a sleeping bag, she gratefully accepted their invitation to rent the empty room.

  Scarlett wasn’t quite as warm as Brooke. She had a greater penchant for gossip and was constantly on the prowl for a good time – but she was friendly and never ate anybody else’s food, never used anybody else’s razor to shave her legs, and cleaned up after herself in the kitchen. As a roommate, Scarlett earned no complaints from Roxy.

  Scarlett waved languidly and came to the order bar with her typical, casual grace. Roxy felt a flash of resentment rise in her chest and pushed it ruthlessly back down again. Scarlett was a friend, for goodness’ sake, and Roxy wasn’t going to let herself be jealous. Sure, Scarlett was blessed with everything Roxy lacked. She had a magazine-perfect, model-thin figure where Roxy was soft and plump, and Scarlett’s dark eyes, black hair, and pale skin gave her an air of alluring mystery, while Roxy’s copper-red ponytail and freckles made her look rustic and comforting at best, like somebody’s middle-aged aunt who bakes all the time and owns a few too many cats. But Roxy refused to allow herself the indulgence of jealousy. She’d just gotten her start here in Jackson Hole, and Scarlett had been quick and eager to welcome her, even if she wasn’t as close as Brooke. Scarlett had certainly been kinder to her than anybody in Hanover had ever been. Envy would only ruin all the good things about this place before Roxy even had a chance to enjoy them.

  And it wasn’t Scarlett’s fault that she’d been born gorgeous.

  “What’ll it be?” she said to Scarlett.

  “The yoozh.”

  “Unsweetened gre
en iced tea, coming up.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes, laughing. “You are so boring, Scarlett. You might as well just drink water.”

  “Green tea is full of antioxidants, ladies. And you know what that means, right?”

  Roxy and Brooke shared a confused look.

  “Immortality.” Scarlett lifted the lid of a big glass jar and helped herself to the biscotti stacked within. “As for my alleged boringness, I’ll have you know I’m going to a party tonight, so there. And you are both coming with me.”

  “A party?” Roxy handed over the iced tea and swiped Scarlett’s Visa.

  “Yeah, you know. Music… booze… guys.”

  A sudden cold wave of dread swelled in Roxy’s stomach. She laughed, hoping she sounded cool and dismissive, and hoping neither of her friends would see the panic she was certain must be flashing in her eyes. She reached up to tangle her fingers in the chain of the gold necklace she always wore. “Who the hell parties in Jackson Hole?”

  With its outdoorsy, next-to-nature vibe and scenery so big it was almost intrusive, Jackson was a world apart from the city of wealth and privilege she had fled. True, Jackson Hole was a big skiing destination and attracted its share of the vacationing rich-and-famous during the winter, but now, at the end of summer, it was filled with down-to-earth folk: the crunchy types who lived here year-round for the sake of all the natural beauty, and families on summer vacation, soaking up the wonders of Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. It seemed impossible that anybody in Jackson Hole would party… and that was exactly the way Roxy wanted it. The very word party made her nervous – brought back memories of uncounted humiliations up and down Hanover’s Greek Row at the hands of drunken frat boys.

  “Who parties in Jackson?” Scarlett repeated. Her dark brows arched in a look of total incredulity. “The college boys, of course.”

  Roxy stared blankly until Brooke put an arm around her shoulder.

  “Rox doesn’t know yet,” she reminded Scarlett. “It’s not surprising – you know how those Blackmeade boys keep to themselves.”

  “Wait, wait,” said Roxy, holding up her hands in a gesture of desperation. “You mean there’s a college in Jackson?”

  “Blackmeade University,” Brooke said. “It’s a private, men’s-only school. Very select, from what I understand, and it’s set up in the foothills a few miles from town, so nobody thinks about it much. The students stay on their campus, for the most part.”

  “I had no idea. I haven’t heard a thing about it, the whole time I’ve been here.”

  Scarlett shrugged. “That’s not surprising. Brooke wasn’t kidding when she said they keep to themselves.”

  “But why? What’s the point of sticking to your campus for four years?”

  “I don’t know. Brooke and I figured they must have some kind of strict behavioral code, some sort of Big Rule about how they conduct themselves off-campus. You’ll see them from time to time around the town; it’s not like they never leave. But a Blackmeade guy hanging around Jackson is a rare sight indeed.”

  “Rare but welcome,” Brooke added.

  Roxy couldn’t imagine any of the guys at Dartmouth staying contentedly on the campus. The streets of Hanover often teemed with frat boys who roved about in packs as restless and shifty-eyed as wolves. The restaurants and parks of the city sometimes filled with their howls of laughter – and their mocking comments – so that she hadn’t felt comfortable in her own home town for years.

  When she’d graduated from high school, Roxy hadn’t even bothered to apply for colleges. She knew her mom had wanted her to go, and guilt still gnawed at her, two years after her mother’s death, that she hadn’t so much as peeked at a college application in all that time. But the truth was, Roxy had dealt with more than her fair share of university guys. Hanover was crawling with them, their slinking masculine forms always turning toward her to stare, their eyes squinting at her in judgment, their mouths grinning at the joke that was her body. A fat girl might as well be chum in the water to college-age boys. She’d already had all she could stomach of the name-calling, the dehumanizing comments, the hurtful remarks about her size when they thought she couldn’t hear – or when they were sure she could hear. She’d had enough of being the butt of fraternity jokes, the woman they dared one another to ask out, to kiss, to sleep with, so they could laugh about it afterward.

  Why would she take out a student loan to subject herself to four more years of that misery and pain? She might as well buy a solid-gold baseball bat and beat herself over the head with it on a daily basis. Money spent wisely, either way, and about the same long-term effects on her sanity.

  Roxy thought she’d finally escaped the frat-boy mentality when she’d landed in Jackson Hole. To learn that the quiet town was hiding not just a college, but an all-male college, filled her with a dark, sinking sensation of crushing defeat.

  And Brooke had even called the school ‘very select.’ Great. More of the same Richie-Rich assholes who made Hanover so charming.

  “Why do you look so bummed, Roxy?” Scarlett asked. “This is going to be a great party, I promise.”

  “I… I don’t really do parties.”

  “You want to do this party,” Brooke said under her breath as a customer approached, deposited a used mug on the counter, and then headed for the Buffalo’s door. “The Blackmeade guys are hot.”

  “Scorchingly hot,” Scarlett agreed. “It’s like they’ve been injection-molded from industrial sex templates.”

  In spite of her misgivings, Roxy couldn’t help but snicker at the image. “Seriously, though – I’m just not much of a partier. I’m no fun to be around; you guys don’t want to drag me out there just to watch me mope in a corner.”

  Scarlett sucked down the last of her iced tea. Her straw made a bubbling slurp among the ice cubes as she bounced her eyebrows suggestively in Roxy’s direction. “I think we do want to drag you there, and believe me, once you get your first sight of the Blackmeade boys, you’ll thank us both.”

  Brooke’s smile was only slightly more convincing. “I’ll make sure you have a good time,” she promised. “Trust me.”

  Roxy did trust Brooke, whole-heartedly.

  It was the college guys she knew she couldn’t trust.

  .2.

  T he road turned to gravel somewhere out in the sage. The Jeep’s tires shuddered as they left the pavement, and a plume of lavender-gray dust spread behind them into the twilight sky.

  “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Roxy asked, not taking her eyes off the road. This time of the late evening, deer and elk were apt to spring out in front of traffic, and such an accident seemed especially likely the farther they went from town.

  “I’m one hundred percent positive.” Scarlett flipped the sun visor down to check her makeup in the mirror for the twentieth time.

  From the backseat, Brooke snorted. “You can’t even see your face anymore; it’s too dark. Besides, you always look perfect, so what are you worried about?”

  “I want to look better than perfect tonight,” Scarlett said. “Alexander’s going to be there.”

  “He’s always there.”

  “Well, this time,” Scarlett said, turning in her seat to flash a devilish smile at Brooke, “he’s going to notice me.”

  They rounded a curve in the gravel road. The faintest suggestion of lights glowed among the foothills ahead, palely illuminating the flanks of the sage-greened hills. Roxy’s stomach turned over.

  There is a school back there – or a house, at least. Something’s all lit up. And that means there are guys back there. Guys who would at best ignore her as they pushed past her in their haste to get to Scarlett. Girls as hot as Scarlett never had any trouble picking up men, while Roxy was fairly certain that no man had ever asked her out if he wasn’t dared to do it during pledge week at his fraternity.

  The Jeep began its climb up the face of the nearest foothill. Night had settled over the land, a violet deepness through whi
ch the headlights cut like two white knives. The silhouettes of the Teton peaks were starkly black against a splash of bright stars. As Brooke and Scarlett chattered on, Roxy peered cautiously into the dark shoulder of the road. She was certain she’d seen a pair of yellow eyes watching as she passed, large and glowing, blinking in a slow, sultry welcome.

  She shivered.

  They reached the hill’s crest. Stars and the light of a not-quite-full moon, just beginning to edge out from behind the peaks, showed the landscape in sudden, breathtaking detail. The moonlight, with its trick of robbing color from the world, made the scenery leap into reality with a boldness never seen by day. The road dropped down into a bowl, its far side sweeping skyward to meet a sheer wall of granite that towered over the cluster of buildings below. A few small houses crouched at intervals along the road, some of them with lights glowing warmly against the night. But as the road moved on toward the mountain’s face, the houses grew in stature. They were throwbacks to a bygone era, Victorian hulks and Craftsman mansions sided with fading wood. Even at this distance, Roxy could pick out the Greek letters emblazoned over their doors.

  Frat houses. Dangerous tar pits of humiliation for any heavy woman. Roxy gritted her teeth.

  Beyond the houses, the stone spires and broad walls of Blackmeade University stood like wary sentinels against the mountain’s face. The school was a marvel of Gothic architecture, its steep-pointed roofs crowned by iron points and its windows as thin and watchful as slit eyes.

  “Wow,” Roxy muttered, in spite of her nerves.

  “It’s something else, isn’t it?” Brooke said. “They don’t show this in the brochures at the Jackson Hole Visitor Center, that’s for sure.”

  “How long has it been here?”

  “It’s old,” Scarlett said. “Goes way back to pioneer days. The founders of the college wanted a place where their students could learn in seclusion, so they wouldn’t be distracted by all the temptations of the world.” The hint of self-satisfaction in her voice said that she, for one, intended to be as much a worldly temptation as she could manage, and if she caused the founders of Blackmeade University to spin in their moldy old graves while she was at it, so much the better.