The Old Witcheroo (29 page)

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Witchless In Seattle Mysteries, a Paranormal Cozy Mystery series

1. Witch Slapped

2. Quit Your Witchin'

3. Dewitched

Wolf Mates, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series

1. An American Werewolf In Hoboken

2. What’s New, Pussycat?

3. Gotta Have Faith

4. Moves Like Jagger

A Paris, Texas Romance, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series

1. Witched At Birth

2. What Not to Were

3. Witch Is the New Black

4. White Witchmas

Non-Series

1. Whose Bride Is She Anyway?

2. Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest

Accidentally Paranormal, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series

Interview With an Accidental—a free introductory guide to the girls of the Accidentals!

1. The Accidental Werewolf

2. Accidentally Dead

3. The Accidental Human

4. Accidentally Demonic

5. Accidentally Catty

6. Accidentally Dead, Again

7. The Accidental Genie

8. The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry

9. The Accidental Dragon

10. Accidentally Aphrodite

11. Accidentally Ever After

12. Bearly Accidental

13. How Nina Got Her Fang Back

The Hell, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series

1. Kiss and Hell

2. My Way to Hell

The Plum Orchard, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series

1. Talk This Way

2. Talk Dirty to Me

3. Something to Talk About

4. Talking After Midnight

The Ex-Trophy Wives, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series

1. You Dropped a Blonde On Me

2. Burning Down the Spouse

3. Waltz This Way

Fangs of Anarchy, a Paranormal Urban Fantasy series

1. Forbidden Alpha

2. Outlaw Alpha

“If you love a good mystery with a dash of romance, exciting plot twists, and a dusting of chuckles on top, check out Renee George!”

Peculiar Mysteries, Book 2

Renee George

T
he cowbell over the entrance to Sunny’s Outlook jangled for the umpteenth time. I heard the waiter, Jo Jo, offer a welcome, so I continued scrubbing off the diner table and re-setting it.
Oo-wee.
I was tired. Who knew being co-owner of a vegetarian restaurant in a tiny shifter town would be so exhausting?

Not me.

The breakfast crowd had been full of eager beavers. Not real beavers, of course, though werebeavers do exist, some were even in town this week, but most of their kind tended to be integrators—therians who hid their second natures to live like non-shifters. My parents are integrators, which means Mom is seriously unhappy with my brother Babe and me for living in an (almost) therian-only locality. Dad is more rational about the situation, but he shows his disapproval in other ways.

A blond boy ran inside the door, he was laughing as a teenage girl, face red with fury, fought to catch him. The boy was my friend Ruth Thompson’s nine-year-old son Linus, and the girl was his nineteen-year-old sister Michele.

“Linus,” Michele scolded. “You hold it right there.”

The boy dropped to his hands, and in seconds, he transformed into a young buck, nubs for horns and the softest looking buff-blond fur.

“Linus!” my best friend and business partner Sunny shouted. “No shifting in the restaurant. This is a shift-free zone, boy.”

Michele blushed as Jo Jo Corman, our young waiter, wrangled the small deer wearing denim shorts and a pale blue tank top.

“I’m so sorry, Sunny. You too, Chav,” Michele said. She grabbed the shorts off the ground when they fell down the deer’s bony legs. In one of the pockets, she pulled out a phone. “Got it!” She held it up triumphantly then blushed again. “Linus stole it out of my hands while I was texting.” She gave Jo Jo a meaningful look.

A silly grin formed on his face until he saw me staring, then he blushed as well. Over the past year, he’d let his short, brown hair grow out a couple of inches and wore it spiked with blue frosted tips. I wasn't sure whether it was any better than the blond leopard spots that used to grace his head. The spots had really pissed his dad off to no end. Though, Brady Corman had preferred the dyed hair to all of Jo Jo’s tattoos and piercings. I think Jo Jo told me once that he had twenty-six piercings in all. Twelve of them were in his face. I really didn't want to know the location of the others.

“Michele, you better get your brother out of here and take his shorts with you.” I looked at the deer who I could swear was silently laughing. “Don’t you dare shift back in here, Linus. No flashing your wee-willy in the restaurant. Take it outside.”

He snorted then pranced to the door, the pale blue tank top tight against his chest. He was already growing into a young adult. I’d known the youngest Thompson since he was six, and it just didn’t seem possible he was already starting to grow horns. It made me feel old.

Michele opened the door for him. She gave a shy wave to Jo Jo, and he nodded to her.

“Oh my,” Sunny said. She danced around Jo Jo like a fairy throwing flower petals. “I think young love is in the air.”

“Stop it,” Jo Jo said. He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Chavvah, help me.”

I grinned. “I think I hear a baby crying. Do you hear a baby crying, Jo Jo?”

“No, Chav,” Sunny pleaded.

Jo Jo’s expression faltered, then he smiled. “I wonder if Baby Jude’s hungry.”

“I hate you,” Sunny exclaimed. She covered her chest with her forearms, but it didn’t hide the breast milk streaming in twin rivers down her pale green blouse. She headed toward the bathroom where she kept spare shirts.

“That wouldn’t happen if you’d wear breast pads,” I muttered.

I returned to my post behind the counter. We’d been doing a brisk business due to the Tri-State Council July Jubilee. This was the first time Peculiar had hosted the annual event, and our therianthrope community had been overrun by shifters from the surrounding states. Right now, our part of the Ozarks was bursting with every type of shifter you could imagine.

The cowbell over the entrance of Sunny’s Outlook jangled for the umpteenth time. Delbert and Elbert Johnson, the twins who ran the general store across the street, came inside.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Just grab an open table. I'll be with you in a minute.”

“No hurry, Chavvie.” Delbert grinned, his forehead crinkling over bright blue eyes. He was so cute for an old possum.

“Take your time, darlin'. We're not going anywhere,” Elbert added.

They both had that Uncle Jesse look. You know, the dude from Dukes of Hazzard. White hair, white beards, overalls, and a little tubby in the middle. I could tell them apart by only two things, Delbert had a thinner face, and Elbert had a small freckle near the corner of his left eye. Sunny had actually pointed it out. At a distance, it was nearly impossible to see the difference, but up close it was no problem.

The cowbell jangled again. I ignored it while I finished recording the last order.

“Chavvah.”

I immediately recognized the deep male voice.

My heart jumped into my throat, and my palms turned clammy and cold.

Ugh. I hated myself.
You are not a teenager. Stop acting like one.

I looked up and met the smoky gray eyes of Dr. Billy Bob Smith, the local witch doctor and family medical practitioner. I went completely squishy inside. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. Usually, he wore his hair down in silver waves that flowed over his shoulders. Right now, he wore it tied back, really showing off his angular face with a strong but narrow jaw, a wide mouth, straight, broad nose, and hypnotizing eyes.

Once, he’d had a tangle of thick dreadlocks down to his trim waist. I still remembered how soft his hair felt when he’d carried me bloodied and bruised away from the hunters who’d tried to kill me. I lost myself for a moment thinking about the how the doc’s hair had brushed my skin like the tips of angel wings, and even though I’d been in excruciating pain, I’d been comforted.

Billy Bob was good at offering comfort.

But he was a lycanthrope, and I was a werecoyote. We were about as compatible as lemon juice and an open wound.

There wasn’t a person in town who didn’t sing the doc’s praises—except me, of course. He had a medical degree from a big university. Yet, he also believed in hoodoo spiritualism or what he called, “earth magic.”

I couldn’t see how he could possibly reconcile science and magic.

“Did you hear the one about the wolf who walked into a diner and was ogled by a coyote?” Elbert Johnson chuckled.

Jo Jo laughed.

I closed my gaping mouth and snapped at Jo Jo, “Don’t you have work to do?”

He walked away with a wide grin on his pierced lips, and I caught the fist bump he handed Elbert when he strolled past the Johnson’s booth.

I tried to get myself together, but crap, it wasn’t easy.

Billy Bob smiled at me. My stomach fluttered. Unfortunately, I hadn’t noticed the pretty, blonde-haired woman directly behind him until she stepped into view. She moved up beside him and looped her arm around his. I wanted to punch her in her shiny, pretty face.

“Hey, doc,” trilled Sunny. She waved at Billy Bob from across the room.

Thanks to Sunny and her haphazard psychic visions—and her penchant for finding trouble—she’d managed to lead the charge to find me before the hunters could finish me off. Sunny got to know the doc quite well during that time, and while she was married to my brother Babe, she and Billy Bob had maintained a close friendship. I couldn’t be mad at her. She’d fought for my freedom, the way only a BFF can. She was beautiful inside and out, and I felt grateful to have her in my life. Today, she wore her golden hair in a ponytail. The style really showed off her large, striking green eyes. The pink V-neck shirt she’d just changed into showed off her other large assets as well. She’d already been blessed with good boobs before pregnancy. Now that she was nursing my adorable infant nephew, her boobs were almost in Dolly Parton territory.

The werewolf grinned at her. Hmph. Any idiot could see he was in love with my best friend. However, she was married to my brother, Babel, and Billy Bob making goo-goo eyes at her was plain ol’ wrong. It had
nothing
to do with him not making goo-goo eyes at me.

“Hey, Sunny,” he said back. “How you feeling?”

“Really good,” she replied, all bright and perky. “Those herbs you gave me have really helped with Jude’s colic.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it. Bring him by next week for his five-month checkup.”

“You got it.” She smiled, her lashes batting hard enough to stir up a breeze.

“Anytime. You don’t need an appointment.” He laughed again. The sound hit all my buttons. I glared at Sunny. She noticed my look, smiled sweetly, and shrugged.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one glaring. The shiny little blonde, still clinging to Billy Bob’s arm, shot daggers at my bestie. She clearly didn’t want his attention focused anywhere else but on her. I tapped the counter to draw their attention away from Sunny. I’d hate to have to beat a bitch for making angry eyes at my friend.

She wasn’t a local, which meant she was here for the festival. I wondered what her animal could be. Since I grew up an integrator, I’d never really learned all the characteristics for the different therian ethnicities. In their human forms, most therians had minor traits that revealed their inner animals. For example, werecoyotes have similar bone structure and build. We tend to be taller than average and have high cheekbones, wide mouths, square jaws, and straight noses. Raccoons, like Sheriff Taylor and his wife Jean, have the tale-tell darker circles around the eyes and wide cheeks. Ruth Thompson, one of my very good friends, and the local go-to gal is a spotted white tail deer. Deer are more delicate in their features, and they have the kind of beauty written about in fairy tales. They can seem almost nymph-like, even the men, like her husband Ed and all her boys.

Those were the obvious ones, but I’m unfamiliar with the therian groups outside of Peculiar, so I was no better than a human at identifying them. Of course, there are the hybrids as well, like Jo Jo, our bus boy-slash-waiter-slash-dishwasher who is half coyote, half mountain lion. His face is more narrow and longer than a normal coyote, but he has a similar height and build. Even still, if Ruth Thompson hadn’t told me, I would never have guessed.

The blonde who clung to Billy Bob had a tiny nose and pouty lips and big, blue, doll eyes that all screamed weasel to me. Also, her itty bitty waist told me she wasn’t drowning any sorrows in potato salad.

“Pie?” I asked her, pulling out a slice of coconut cream pie with coconut whipped topping from the refrigerated display case. I pushed it across the counter.