As a pet whisperer, I've yet to meet a snarling beast I can't turn into a purring pussycat. When a billionaire alien living in a castle on an isolated planet posts a job looking for someone to housebreak his pets, I'm confident I can train them to eat out of his hand instead of trying to bite his head off. My growly boss has two rules. Don't touch him and remain inside my room at night. The first part's a challenge, because I have an overwhelming urge to nuzzle his neck and lick . . . his fingers. As for the second, I lie awake all night, struggling to ignore the howls echoing through the barren castle passages. I might be here to train his pets to walk on a leash, but I'm beginning to suspect there's a beast in this castle who wants to train me.