Werewulf Journals: Weddings, Bells, and a Brownie

by Camille Anthony

  Praise for the writing of Camille Anthony

  Werewulf Journals 1: Wild in the City

  This short novel was riveting -- I started it about 10 p.m. one night, thinking I would read a few pages before going to bed. I kept saying to myself, “Just a few more pages...” until I finished it and discovered it was midnight! Thank goodness this seems to be the first in a series. Keep writing, Camille!

  -- Jean, Fallen Angel Reviews

  This reviewer was very impressed. Werewulf Journals 1: Wild in the City is not a welcomed addition to my book collection, it is a MUST HAVE addition!!! I look forward to the next installment of this series.

  -- Faith Jacobs, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  I found the characters in this story to be fantastic. The humor itself will have you in stitches. The love story opens doors to the imagination in most usual ways. The love scenes between Hunter and Melody gives true meaning to the title Wild in the City. Enjoy!

  -- Diane Tugman, The Romance Studio

  Ms. Anthony blows the “norm” out of the water with this story and I’m curious to see where she takes it. Kudos, Ms. Anthony, for the unusual twist you give this story!

  -- Pam L., A Romance Review

  Ms. Anthony throws the predictable shifter story in the dust and gives the reader a unique, fascinating and satisfyingly erotic read. This is definitely a keeper.

  -- Jennifer Brooks, Coffee Time Romance

  Werewulf Journals 1: Wild in the City is now available from Loose Id.

  WEREWULF JOURNALS:

  WEDDINGS, BELLS, AND A BROWNIE

  Camille Anthony

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book is rated:

  For substantial explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (sex with shapeshifters in shifted form).

  Werewulf Journals: Weddings, Bells, and a Brownie

  Camille Anthony

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © December 2005 by Camille Anthony

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 1-59632-204-7

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Maryam Salim

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  www.loose-id.com

  Prologue

  “Hunter, stop your arguing. No one just walks into a church and waltzes out with two-ton bells without someone seeing them. The bells are missing. Therefore, it’s a paranormal crime and falls under your jurisdiction. The NHP team is assigned this case, and that’s my final word.”

  “We non-human protectors didn’t sign on to ‘deal’ with these petty crimes, Morrison, and you know that.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck. For your information, this crime isn’t petty. It’s demoralizing to a lot of people because those bells are an integral part of their worship services. Besides, the department pays all of you a disgustingly high salary. You better believe you’ll earn every penny.”

  “We do -- in hazard pay.” Hunter McCallum glared at the commissioner, wondering if his present resentment stemmed from being saddled with this latest case or from their ongoing feud. “What did you do before you had the NHP to handle your department’s workload, Kevin?”

  Morrison crossed his arms and glared back. “We humans humped our asses just like every other normal policeman before us. We didn’t have any paranormal superpowers to help us solve crime or bring in the bad guys. We did it with good old-fashioned brains, sweat, and footwork.”

  “That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it, Kev? Jealous?”

  The commissioner’s mouth twisted. His light brown complexion darkened with the flush of heated anger as he slid the file on the missing church bells across the table to Hunter. “Hardly, but speaking of footwork, here’s another case for you -- a kidnapping.” He waved another manila folder in Hunter’s face, then pushed it over. “Four floors up, doors locked. Kid’s in the nursery. Mother in the kitchen -- never heard anyone come in. Window’s open, baby’s gone. There’ve been two more snatches since this one was called in.”

  “Gee, Kev, you have anyone question Mary Poppins? She seems to fit the MO on this one.”

  Lips curled in disdain, Hunter took the files off the table and crammed them under his arm. By the Moon, he could already hear the guys complaining. Even Indigo would have a few choice words confronted with cases like these.

  “I don’t need your sass. Just solve the cases.”

  A frustrated sigh lifted Hunter’s shoulders. “Most of the team is on loan hunting that rogue were-polar bear in Alaska, and I have a wedding to prepare for, you know?”

  “Postpone it.”

  Hunter’s eyes rounded as his jaw dropped. “Postpone it?” Thinking of what Melody would do to his balls if he stupidly suggested postponing her wedding chilled him. “You must be fucking insane.”

  Morrison’s eyebrows rose. “The wedding isn’t until New Year’s Eve. You have time to complete these assignments and do whatever pre-nuptial chores the little woman has mapped out for you.”

  “What’s the matter, Social Climbing Ken? Smarting ’cause you’re gonna miss the San Franciscan social event of the year?” Hunter made no effort to hide his smirk. “Hey, dude, look on the bright side -- at least you don’t have to dress up in a tuxedo and waddle around like a penguin ...”

  * * * * *

  Aricles tapped the massive bell with a small, lead hammer. The deep, true tone reverberated in the room, the golden echoes splashing gently against the far walls in fainter and then fainter volume. The last low note lingered softly on the air, humming in a deep bass that shook bones and sinew.

  “This one ... this is the most important one. We’ll take it last -- it’ll be easier that way.”

  “Taking them won’t be the problem, Aricles.”

  The vampire’s body emerged from the shadows. Sauntering into the middle of the room, hands stuffed in the pockets of his greatcoat, he glanced up at his youthful team member. “Putting them back unobserved, without alerting the other team members, will be the greater challenge.”

  The Greek demi-god turned and bent a long, considering look on his cohort. “Are you in or out?”

  “Oh, definitely in. I love a good challenge.”

  * * * * *

  From the darkness, discerning brown eyes observed the tableau by the Dumpster, mouth tight with compassionate pity. Sliding deeper in the shadows, she frowned as this little family’s tragic story unfolded before her.

  The young mother star
ed down into the face of the sleeping infant, loathing and hatred stamped on her features.

  “Abomination!” Hushed and vehement, her hissed cry sounded clearly in the ears of the one keeping vigil.

  “By rights, I should strangle or drown you now -- it would be the kindest thing ...”

  The anger in her voice woke the baby and it mewled, its little mouth working. A thin, hungry wail shattered the near silence of the deserted back street, and the woman jerked about, body taut, eyes glowing and muscles tight in readiness.

  Finding no threat, she returned her attention to the infant in her arms. “I dare not take you with me! You’ve already stolen months from my life, trapping me in this grotesque form.”

  Taking a last, furtive look around, the woman -- barely older than a girl -- lifted the heavy lid and tossed the baby into the bin. The small bit of abandoned flesh screamed in startled reaction to the cold and the abrupt landing. The harried mother slammed the lid down on the baby’s cries, backing away from the trash receptacle with cautious haste.

  The guardian nodded sagely, not surprised when the young woman dropped to all fours and quickly morphed into a lovely silver-haired wolf. As the animal trotted away without a backward glance, the watcher came out of the shadows and scurried over to the bin.

  A wave of her small hand and the space before her sparkled with tiny motes of light glittering on the night air. A pattern of power danced over the Dumpster as the lid lifted and the silent baby floated upward, hovering on nothingness.

  Arms stretched to receive him from the air, the petite being crooned a lullaby, coaxing a tentative smile from the infant. The baby peered up into the wizened face of his savior and gurgled a tentative greeting.

  “Little wulf, you will do well,” the being promised, cuddling the baby close to her generous breast. “First, we must find you something to eat, and second, a place to abide ...”

  A lump of coal, dense black and just the size of the newborn, occupied the space in the Dumpster where the baby had lain.

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean, you don’t own a tux?”

  “Just what I said, sweetness. I don’t own one. Never have.” Hunter didn’t look up from sorting through the receipts for the last two jobs the NHP team had completed. “Which you would have known if you’d ever taken more than a quick glance at my side of the closet,” he tacked on after a lengthy pause.

  His offhand response raised Melody’s already hot temper to the boiling point. She cut the flame off under the steaks browning for dinner and set the skillet at the back of the stove. Turning, she leaned against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “First, I don’t have anything on your side of the closet and your clothes don’t fit me, so why would I look there? And secondly, just what were you going to do two weeks from now?”

  Her eyebrows twitched together in an angry scowl when he squirmed. Knowledge of her mate had her narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Half teasing, she said, “You’d better not be thinking of showing up for our wedding in jeans and your biker jacket ...”

  His shamefaced expression said it all.

  Her hands dropped to her sides before fisting at her hips. “Don’t dare try it, Hunter McCallum!”

  “Hey, I’ve got more sense than that.” He pushed his chair out from the table and twisted sideways to face her. “I wasn’t going to wear the biker jacket, but I have plenty of coats less casual than a tuxedo.”

  He paused for her response, but she managed to hold her peace. He tried wheedling.

  “Come on, Melody -- why should I shell out for something I’m only gonna need once? Believe you me -- I don’t ever plan to go through something like this again.”

  “And that’s why they have places that rent tuxedos, you mutt!”

  Heaving a gusty sigh, she forced back frustrated tears. Lately, her man’s ... mannish ways kept getting on her nerves and driving her nuts. How did he expect her to plan this wedding without his cooperation? Left up to Hunter, their wedding would probably never take place. Melody suspected he would be howlingly happy if she dropped all the preparation and called it a done deal, but she needed this ceremony.

  Fucking in front of a cheering crowd might have cemented their relationship for Hunter, but she still didn’t feel married. Mated, yes -- they were definitely an item for life, but in the eyes of her friends and loved ones, she was a fallen woman living in sin.

  Why is it so hard for Hunter to understand how I feel?

  Melody didn’t want Blair’s baby brother or sister to carry the stigma of being illegitimate, but even more, she didn’t want Hunter to appear at a disadvantage to her friends. She didn’t want her late husband’s congregation judging Hunter’s level of commitment inferior to Roland’s.

  Those people, in all their humanness, had been the only ones to embrace and befriend her during the worst period of her life. They’d shared their meager resources with her, comforted and encouraged her. They were her friends and the closest thing to family she had. She needed them to like Hunter ... and vice versa.

  “You have to wear a tux, Hunter and a rental will only cost you a couple hundred dollars.” She waited for the explosion. It wasn’t long in coming.

  Looking affronted, Hunter snapped, “A couple of --! What kind of sense does that make, Mel?”

  She clicked her tongue at him. “You have gobs of money. You’re always egging me on to buy whatever I want. I can’t believe you’re too tight to rent a tux for your own wedding.”

  Hunter frowned. “It’s not that I’m tight, sweet bitch. I like pampering you, but that other would be a waste. No way am I shelling out hundreds of bucks for a monkey suit I’d only wear a few hours before having to return it. That’s not logical.”

  Melody showed all her teeth in a decidedly feral smile of her own. “I’m so glad you agree with me, honey,” she crooned, gliding over and sidling onto his lap, “because I’ve already arranged with Rosa to watch Blair while we go shopping. It’s much more sensible to buy your own so you can have it on hand for other occasions!”

  “Aw, Mel, what are you planning in that devious mind of yours? You aren’t thinking of making me go to parties and crap, are you? You know I hate socializing.”

  As he spoke, Hunter’s hands automatically curled around her thickening waist, securing her close to him. He rubbed the bulge that sheltered their growing baby, gently and carefully, so tender with her she could feel his love radiating through her skin.

  “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not interested in turning you into a party animal. I like my wulf wild and undomesticated.”

  “Thank god for that!” His hands tightened at Melody’s waist.

  Anger replaced with rising ardor, Mel cuddled up to her mate and began dropping kisses down the side of his strong neck and across the broad shoulder closest to her. She reveled in the sexy rumbling growls her actions elicited from him.

  Responding to her aggressive advances with his usual alacrity, Hunter slipped his hands under her blouse and caressed her back. Deftly unsnapping her bra, his fingers swept the cloth out of the way so he could cup and squeeze her breasts. He splayed his fingers to catch and tug at her nipples while his teeth scraped across the sensitive area of her neck bearing his mark.

  She moaned at the intense rivers of arousal flooding her as his breath flowed over her scar. Shivering, Melody scrunched up her shoulders, nudging his mouth away from her throat. “Tickles!”

  Gathering her scattered wits, she reluctantly eased away from his caresses. Regretfully moving his hands away from her swollen, achy nipples, she reminded him, “We don’t have time for this ... we have to go shopping.”

  “Good god, woman, I’m trying to seduce you and all you can think about is getting that tux. I’m glad you’re on my side because you are one tenacious bitch. You’re stubborn enough to wear a groove in stone, you know that?”

  Hunter’s gruff words, imbued with pride and love, caused Melody to shimmy her hips on his lap,
moved as always by the verbal affirmation of his love for her. He constantly gave her that needed reassurance. It was one more thing she loved about him.

  “Of course I do, and of course I’m tenacious,” she whispered, leaning over and stretching to reach his lips. “I held on to you, didn’t I?”

  His hands clamped down on her as he opened his lips to accept the bold foray of her tongue. “Never let me go,” he begged, just before entangling their mouths in a scorching kiss.

  Eons later, Melody drew breath and leaned back. “Let you go? Are you crazy?” She stroked his beloved face with one hand while shaking her head. “For the life of me, I can’t understand why you keep insisting I’m some kind of femme fatale, when there’s only one man for me --” She tightened her knees around his hips. “-- though he’s not quite where I want him right now.”

  “Oh, you’re a femme fatale, all right,” Hunter teased, dropping pecking kisses over her face. “You’ve proven fatal to my ability to feel arousal for anyone else. You’re the only woman I want. That doesn’t change the fact that you are a sexy, abundant queen who can have any male breathing.” His voice deepened, darkened with pain as he half-whispered, “You could have had Chase. I never would have made it home in time if you hadn’t chosen to diligently fight him off for so long.”

  Determined to make sure her man knew how she felt once and for all, Melody twisted her arms around Hunter’s neck and pulled his head down into a hot, lip-mashing, tongue-spearing kiss that had her toes flexing. She hoped Hunter was getting the message. A second later, she realized something of Hunter’s was flexing, too, rising and thickening to rub along the open crease of her vagina. She scooted up until her stomach brushed his rock-hard abs. His shaking hands went to her bottom, cupping and kneading her round-cheeked ass.