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Changeling Press LLC
www.changelingpress.com
Copyright ©2009 by Dakota Cassidy
First published in 2009, 2009
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Werecats and Werelocks
Catnipped
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
A Were-Cat Christmas
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Werelock
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Confessions of a Wannabe Witch
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Dakota Cassidy
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Werecats and Werelocks
Dakota Cassidy
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2009 Dakota Cassidy
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ISBN: 978-1-60521-244-9
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Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty
Cover Artist: Reneé George
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Werecats and Werelocks
Dakota Cassidy
Four strong, sexy women, four kooky, supernatural dilemmas, four fantastically hot men. Four stories of the most unlikely, improbable way to find the love of your life. Join Felicity, Charlie, Frankie and Addison for a series of zany Dakota Cassidy adventures!
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Catnipped
Dakota Cassidy
Charlie Ledbetter has a big problem. She doesn't like cats. In fact, she's allergic to them. And now she is one ... sort of.
Caught in the middle of a vicious argument between two men at the pet store where she shops for her dog Pinky, Charlie doesn't just end up nipped in the fight when it's over—she ends up having a horrible allergic reaction and much sneezing, wheezing and gulping Benadryl like it's tequila ensues.
But that's not even the half of it...
When one of the two men involved in the scuffle, Quinn Piljor, comes to apologize for his part in the scuffle, he brings his brother Luke with him. Tall, blond, sexy, off the chain hot Luke. A man Charlie's immediately attracted to. The brothers explain her little allergy problem can be solved with a ritual that takes place upon the full moon—a sex ritual.
Crazy that, huh?
Charlie finds out what the Piljor brothers say really is true. In order to stop her violent allergic reaction to her new body's chemistry, her only shot involves having sex with Quinn.
But what does a girl do when the man she really wants to be with isn't the man she has to be with?
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Chapter One
"You fucking redneck! I'll kick your stupid ass!"
"Bring it, you asshole!"
Charlie Ledbetter beat feet into Fabulous Furries, her local pet store, grabbing a cart and hurrying past the two very large, very angry men who were clearly not happy with each other, judging by their livid scowls and clenched fists. Both were rather impressive in height and girth, but the guy with the jet-black hair was just a bit scarier than his lighter-haired foe.
Charlie shivered when she stepped around them. They gave off this bad ju-ju she wanted nothing to do with.
Being the “avoid trouble” kinda chick she was, she didn't linger. Besides, Renee would kill her if she was late for her pork tenderloin with orange sauce and dinner was always on time at her best friend Renee's. Time was of the essence.
Charlie scurried to the chew-toy aisle to pick up a new bone for her dog Pinky. Her Pug-Chihuahua mix needed some kind of entertainment while she was at the bookstore or her furniture would suffer in the way of shredded cushions and scarred wood. Pinky went through bones like J-Lo went through husbands and to not have a healthy supply of them meant her couch would meet a long drawn-out death.
Strolling along the aisle, she fingered the green dental bones, hanging neatly in a row. Pinky's breath smelled like a Jersey dump and apparently, these bones promoted clean, sweet breath. But the Pinkster loved the clear bones and whatever made Pinky happy...
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the two men she'd seen in the front of the store, stalking one another in the cat food aisle beside hers. The lighter haired of the two stomped behind the guy whose hair was so black it gleamed blue highlights, yelling something.
And it didn't sound like they were fucking around.
"I told you to stay the hell away from Tasha, you motherfucker!” the taller by an inch or so guy with light brown hair hissed between clenched teeth.
Charlie couldn't help but overhear their anger over this Tasha. Yet she snapped her eyes back to the bones hanging in plastic wrap and turned her cart the other way, trying to focus on picking the right dog bone for her very picky Pinky.
But they weren't making it easy. The conversation heated up and the hotter it got, the juicier it got. It was like rubbernecking. Charlie couldn't turn her listening ears off or keep herself from sneaking peeks at grown men behaving like children.
"She's not yours anymore, Quinn, and why would she be when she's got this?” the raven-haired guy answered back and that was when Charlie caught another glance of him over her shoulder, grabbing at his package with a meaty paw.
Hoo boy.
She turned back around and made a face, jamming her chin into her jacket. Jesus, men really did think it was all about the schlong.
And it so wasn't. Not that it hurt, mind you, but it didn't amount to everything.
A loud growl went up and it struck her as odd. It was so deep and resonant, it almost didn't sound human. With that, more words followed.
And they weren't very nice in Charlie's estimation, but she couldn't blame the guy. The really dark-haired guy had thrown the “package” card into the universe. Men were sensitive ab
out their meat and the lighter-haired guy was apparently no exception.
"I'll—fucking—kill—you!” he spat with succinct timing.
Oh, good. A death at Fabulous Furries. Sooooo not something she wanted to witness. But suddenly she had no choice. The thwack to her back, shoving her into her cart, was sharp, knocking the wind out of her momentarily. Her fingers clenched the cart while she sucked in a lungful of air before she turned to confront the Neanderthals.
God dammit! She bruised easily.
Gripping her side, she massaged her rib area, then narrowed her eyes and focused on her targets. Charlie stepped directly between both panting men, planting her hands on her hips. She faced the darker-haired guy and waved a finger. “Hey, knock it the hell off! You just crashed into me. I don't know about you, but I hear there've been lawsuits over less. Now this is a public place. Can't you see I'm in deep deliberation over which bone to choose for my precious? Jesus! I can't think with the two of you yelling. Now take your business elsewhere. There are people here trying to shop in peace."
Ooooh, but Cro-Magnon man clearly didn't like to be chastised. He flipped the guy behind her the bird, then narrowed his gaze at Charlie. “Shut up, you bitch, and mind your own business,” he sniped, the set of his mouth forming a sneer.
Charlie gasped.
He. Did. Not.
Charlie, while usually not one to engage, became enraged. The motherfucker. She stood on her tippy toes and stuck her face in his. “I'm sorry. Was ‘bitch’ the word you used? For the love of dick, couldn't you be more original? You slam into me and I'm the bitch? Ohhh, I so don't think so. I'm going to find store security."
But Charlie didn't have time to finish telling the fucktard off.
The lighter-haired guy did it for her—with menace. “Don't call the lady a bitch, you fuck-up. I swear to God you have the mentality of a two year old!"
Okay, so the guy with the black hair didn't much like being compared to a toddler—though Charlie didn't think he was far off the mark—because the next thing Charlie knew, he was grabbing at the guy behind her and somehow after a scuffle of grabby hands and flailing arms ensued, she ended up in a big old manwich, stuffed like a piece of bologna between two men, the one on top of her weighing at least a good two hundred pounds.
The whoosh they made when they hit the ground was softened for Charlie because she landed right on top of the raven-haired, mouthy guy.
At first her grunt of pain was because of the impact, but when the sharp sting of a tooth pierced her earlobe, her grunt became a sharp cry.
The lighter-haired guy's head snapped back up and it was assholes and elbows while everyone struggled to get up off the floor. The fuckwit who'd called her a bitch skedaddled, taking off between the aisles.
However, her hero had chosen to help her up, righting the cart that had toppled over. “Are you okay?” His concern was clearly written on his handsome, chiseled face as he ran his fingers over his teeth.
Charlie waved him off with an angry gesture, gripping her side and wincing. “Oh, I'm fab. Just dope. What is wrong with people these days? Jesus Christ! You're in a pet store, for God's sake, fighting like two kids on a playground.” Fuck, her ribs hurt.
And then she saw the blood drip to the floor.
Her blood.
Gushing from her ear and splattering on the worn tile in crimson droplets, making a tiny pool by her feet.
All righty then.
"You're bleeding,” he pointed out, his tone filled with worry.
"Observant much?” Charlie grabbed her purse and dug around in it to look for tissues, but to no avail. But suddenly the heavens opened up and a store clerk magically appeared, who, ironically enough, had been nowhere to be found when the shit was going down, yelling for someone to get some ice and some paper towels.
Charlie took both gratefully, then frowned when she pinched her earlobe.
"Oh, shit! I'm really sorry. Here, let me help you.” He grabbed at the ice in a plastic bag, but Charlie yanked it away.
"Uh, thanks, but I'm good. You've helped plenty. Why don't you go find your playmate and rip off one of his limbs then beat him to death with it?"
His look was sheepish. “Here, let me take your name and number, and I'll give you mine. I'd be happy to pay any medical bills you have."
Fuck. He was being way too nice, and suddenly she felt like shit. “Look, forget it, okay? I have to go. It's been a long day. But really, thank you for offering.” Charlie grabbed her purse from the floor and hit the bricks.
When she got to her car, she was gasping for air and her sinuses had begun to clog. Looking at her ear in the rearview mirror, though it had gushed like he'd severed a major artery, it didn't look too bad. She had a big old hole in it from where his tooth had nailed her, but it wasn't bothering her near as much as the throb in her head was.
The rest of her felt like shit too. The tickle of a sneeze began at the back of her nose, then erupted in a tidal wave of more sneezing. Her eyes began to itch and ache and water seeped from the corners.
Damn, had there been cats in there? She only had this kind of allergic reaction to cats...
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Charlie dug around in her purse for her cell and dialed Renee. Pork tenderloin with orange sauce was definitely out tonight, but Benedryl was so on her menu.
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Charlie stared at her reflection in the mirror and then at the pile of hair on her floor by her feet.
If she didn't quit shedding, a Hoover with super suction was next on her list of things to buy.
Right after more Benadryl. Oh, and more Benadryl.
Looking down at her toenails, now sharp and oddly pointy, she frowned.
Christ, she needed a pedicure.
She sneezed hard, and then sighed.
Upon reflection, one might find what had happened at Fabulous Furries three weeks ago kinda freaky.
However, now that some time had passed and she'd sort of adjusted, she just figured—go fucking figure.
Grabbing another handful of tissues, she wiped at her red, swollen nose and winced.
She was still coming to terms with the idea that the man who'd sunk his tooth into her was responsible for this mess. She should make him vacuum the fucking floor.
Charlie ran a cool cloth over her eyes and called to Pinky out of habit. Not that he'd listen ... No matter what she did, she couldn't coax him out from under the bed since this had happened, but she tried anyway. “Pinky? C'mon, dude. We can't go on like this forever, you know. Have you forgotten how I got into this flippin’ mess?"
Silence greeted her ears. Nary a whimper from da Pink.
"Yeahhh, that's right. I was going to get you a new bone, you beast.” But Pinky clearly cared little about her predicament. He seemed only to sense the huge changes that had occurred in her body's chemistry the past three weeks.
"Ya know, Pink, only I, Charlie Ledbetter, could wind up being caught in the middle of a brawl over some chick named Tasha in the chew-toy aisle and end up like this."
On the drive home, Charlie had sneezed so frequently and so severely, she thought surely she'd have to pull over and call Renee to ask her to come pick her up. Luckily, she made it home before the real wheezing started and her lungs began to rattle like a pit of snakes. The only thing she could figure was there had to have been cats in the pet store. Fabulous Furries welcomed all patrons and their pets. But under normal circumstances, Charlie wasn't typically affected by her allergy to cats unless she was around them for an extended period of time, snarfing up their hair.
While she'd been busy trying to figure out why a good dose of Benedryl—something that always quieted her allergic reaction to cats before—wasn't cutting it two hours post dosage, her doorbell rang.
At the time, she'd cursed, hoping it wasn't the Jehovah's Witnesses looking to recruit her again. Because she felt like she might snap and offer to let them come help with the virgin sacrifice in her back yard, feeling as butt-ugly as she d
id.
But opening the door revealed a crowd of people who wanted to talk to her about what had happened at Fabulous Furries. What they wanted to talk about left Charlie a million things. Most of which was totally freaked out.
Apparently, these were her new people.
All twenty or so of them.
Full of apologies.
A bunch of tiger shapeshifters...
From Tibet.
Fancy-schmancy.
Somehow, these people, the Piljor family, had located her rural home in the country and after a family pride meeting—because that's what a plethora of tigers were called—a pride—had decided something had to be done about Charlie. It seemed what she'd thought was no more than a harmless, albeit bloody nip to her earlobe, wasn't harmless at all. She'd been bitten by a cat.
And not just any old cat. A tiger, to be precise.
Who shapeshifted. There was that word again.
Nice.
Being bitten by a shapeshifter meant she was one now, too. Well, almost. Her shift wouldn't be complete until the full moon.
Her shift...
When the guy who'd nipped her ear at the pet store had come home and told his family he'd left a hole in her earlobe the size of Texas, they'd chosen to act—responsibly. Which was very ASPCA as far as Charlie was concerned.
The head pride guy, Luke, decided she couldn't be left to her own devices and looking back, Charlie decided that was downright decent. What if they'd never bothered to own what had happened at the pet store?
Jesus Christ Superstar...
They'd explained what a shapeshifter was and how they weren't just tigers, but half human too.
Hence the wandering around looking like everyone else on the planet.
Now the memory made her chuckle. At the time—not so much. Charlie blew her nose with some toilet paper and rummaged around in her medicine cabinet to see if she maybe she had some more Flonase. A snort or twelve couldn't hurt.
Her image in the mirror told her nothing could hurt at this point. She looked like complete shit.
All thanks to a fucking nip on her ear.
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