Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
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Reality Shift
H.M. McQueen
Chapter One
The Star Spangled Banner blasted from speakers when Jill James stopped at the lopsided mailbox outside the Johnson pack compound.
Even after lowering the window and peering at the mailbox, the faded address numbers on the weathered post were hard to read.
Instead of taking a chance she’d get shot for trespassing, Jill did what every sane person in Kentucky did. After a quick sniff, her nose lifted high, she pulled open the mailbox, yanked out an envelope and read the addressee.
“Good, I’m at the right place,” she said, closing the mailbox with care else it continued on its eventual, not too far descent to the ground.
Her relief at finding the correct address ended when just a hundred yards down the packed dirt road, her path was blocked by what looked to be an electric fence and two dogs. The interesting combination of a Rottweiler and Chihuahua studied her with menacing growls.
For some reason, the Chihuahua seemed more intimidating.
After a couple honks, which sounded so high-pitched that Jill had to roll her eyes, in the distance she spotted someone walking towards the fence.
The man swaggered more than walked and, immediately, she recognized the wolf. Sort of.
It was either Mark or Clark Johnson. In her defense, the guys were identical twins, who only their family seemed to be able to tell apart most days. Even with her wolf keen sense of smell, she could barely tell who was who when around them.
It didn’t help the twins usually lied when asked, “Which one are you?”
“Hey,” he called out and pushed some sort of remote for the gate.
The frame of the fence shook and creaked for a few moments. Jill looked to the guy. “Is it going to open?”
“Yep.” He let out a sigh and stared at the gate, which had finally inched just a bit. It took what seemed like three hours before there was enough space for her car to pull through.
“Come to the garage. Clark and Dad are there.” Mark, now it was obvious, ran off without waiting to ensure she could see where, exactly, he disappeared. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of how fast he ran or he was still just as clueless as ever.
Jill figured, in this case, both of her guesses were true.
A line of what could only be described as shanties appeared. Lined up like war-torn soldiers, the houses suffered lack of paint, missing shutters and injured storm doors hanging on by a hinge and a prayer. The houses seemed to be cared after in the same fashion as the sideways leaning mailbox on the curb.
The last house on the left, however, stood out in stark contrast. In perfect condition, pristine and surrounded by a white picket fence. The song “Which One is Not Like the Others” came to mind. She knew it belonged to a newly married wolf and his preppy wife.
Finally, spotting two black Ford trucks under a large awning next to a four-car garage with attached carports on each side, she drove there and parked.
“Damn, you’re lookin’ good!” Mark neared, not one bit out of breath from the one-mile jaunt. “Gimme some sugar.”
Jill allowed him to hug her, but when he went for her lips, she turned her head and the wet kiss landed on her cheek.
“My turn.” Clark appeared and walked closer. Her heart, damn its dark-twisted soul, did a double flip with a full twist at the sound of his voice.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t tell the twins apart, but her heart and coochie had no problem at all, by the sudden heat attack between her legs.
She’d dated Clark in high school. They’d enjoyed many a steamy summer night during pack runs.
Mark laughed. “Whoa, you still got the hots for my bro.”
“Shut up,” Jill said and slapped his shoulder. One of the bad things about hanging out with wolves was their keen sense of smell when it came to a female’s arousal.
“How do you know it’s not you?” Jill tried to throw Mark off.
He gave her a droll look. “Yeah right.”
Clark finally neared and hugged her tight. He still smelled the same as she remembered; equal combination outdoors, Polo and man.
It felt natural when he automatically took her hand and pulled her toward the first house on the right. “Mama is gonna be excited to see you,” Clark drawled, throwing her a wicked grin. “I bet she’ll try to feed you.”
“Win, win,” Mark said as he trailed after them.
They entered past a screen door that served absolutely no purpose except to add to the appeal, if one were going for the one step away from homeless look.
Inside, however, it was completely opposite. A spacious great room with comfortable leather chairs and a huge screen television mounted over a stone fireplace were the first things Jill noticed. There were beautiful rugs scattered atop the shiny hardwood floors and beautiful landscape paintings on the walls.
They entered a huge kitchen and bellied up to the marble countertop. At once, Mark pulled back a stool and sat.
“Mama, come see who’s here,” Clark called out.
“Well slap me down twice and pick me up once.” Scootie Johnson hustled into the room, a flurry of ruffles, bangles and leopard print. The barely five foot tall woman rushed to Jill and grabbed her hands. “It’s about time you come visit. Just because Clark was a man-ho doesn’t mean I don’t miss the girls.”
Mark laughed. Clark groaned and Jill grinned. “It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Johnson.”
Before she could stop it, the woman pulled her around the kitchen island. “Let’s fry some chicken. You’re way too skinny. Probably look like a coyote when you shift.”
Although Jill would never turn down a home cooked meal, she’d hoped to know, by now, why the twins had summoned her.
She turned to ask only to find both gone.
“Damn devils, they escaped before I could put them to work. I tell you that David Copperfield fella has nothing on how fast Mark and Clark can disappear at the first sign of domestic chores coming at them.”
After a very tasty and filling meal, Jill waddled behind the twins back to the garage.
The twins took turns explaining their plan.
“Let me get this right,” Jill said as she walked around a beautifully finished, custom painted truck. It was done in dark blue with what looked to be claw-gashed sides so realistic she reached out to touch it twice. “You guys want me to help you film and produce a reality show?”
A younger wolf she’d been introduced named Gareth now joined Mark and Clark in the head bob line up. Their father and pack leader, Walter, looked on from a distance, his narrowed dark eyes on the trio.
Although Walter didn’t interfere, it was clear by his stance what his thoughts on his sons’ latest bright idea were. The Jesse James-looking, tattooed wolf was huge and imposing, but Jill had gotten to know him when she dated Clark in high school and he no longer intimidated her.
Not much anyway.
“I’m not sure how this will be different than the other shows out there that would gain you new fans.”
Mark straightened and flexed hi
s biceps, then followed it up with a Magic Mike-like body sway. “You’re kidding me right? Have you seen someone so good lookin’ on any of those shows?” He motioned to Clark. “Then you get double the fun.”
Gareth yanked off whatever held his light brown hair up in a man bun sending the waves cascading. “Boom. Make that three.”
They did have something there. “You should start with a YouTube channel. Set up a camera in here and film your day-to-day operations. Get a following.”
When the pack leader neared, everyone looked to him. “You Three Stooges need to get to work. The trucks aren’t going to paint themselves.”
He eyed Jill and shook his head. “If because of dumb luck alone they are successful, it will bring unwanted attention to our kind. I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ve not been fully accepted by humans yet.”
“There you go, Pops, always the downer,” Mark said from across the garage. “We’re not going to admit we’re wolves. Duh.”
“Pops?” Walter turned and glared at his son. “What the fuck?”
“Sorry, Daddy.” Mark grinned. “Just thought Pops would sound better on film.”
“Fuck film.” Walter stalked off.
“He’ll be the perfect grumpy boss. Every show needs the grumpy old guy,” Clark said.
Jill couldn’t formulate a sentence. Although their idea had merit, a lot of merit actually, she wasn’t sure she was the right person for the job. “I don’t know that I can do this. I have a full time job. And besides, I live over in West Virginia.”
When Clark sauntered toward her, it proved impossible to look away. “Come on, Sugar. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.” Damn her slutty soul.
Chapter Two
“Can you come get me? I’m at Zelda’s,” Will’s normally squeaky voice was especially high-pitched this morning. Jill narrowed her eyes at the clock on her nightstand. It was seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Her friend’s knew they’d better be bleeding to death or already dead before calling so early any day, much less on a Saturday.
“What the hell happened to you this time?” she snapped, not caring if her friend was dead.
There was shuffling and a loud wheeze before Will spoke. “I got hit by a truck last night.”
“Again?” She let out a long breath. “I thought we’d discussed it. From now on you only shift in parks.”
Being a squirrel shifter had to be bad. First of all, no one wanted to date a guy who shifted into a rodent and, secondly, all the girl squirrel shifters had bucked teeth. Not pretty in squirrel form and much less attractive in human form. Bless their bushy-tailed hearts.
“I’ll be over. Can you ask Zelda to make me some tea?”
Jill lived just twenty minutes from the witch healer, who seemed to attract mostly shifters. There were always packs and families camped out around the huge, white house she’d inherited from her aunt, Hildy. Even sworn enemies would refrain from conflict when at Zelda’s. However, that didn’t give Jill a warm fuzzy.
One time, she’d run into a huge bear shifter at Zelda’s, who’d attempted to convince her if they had sex, she’d only date bears after that. “Once you go bear, you never go elsewhere,” he’d sworn.
The huge guy was good-looking, but a bit too hairy. Just the hair poking out over the collar of his t-shirt was enough to make a wig.
Not bothering to put a bra on, Jill grabbed a hoodie and zipped it up over her pajamas. Once she picked up Will, he’d want her to take him to get something to eat. He was always hungry, so she slapped on mascara and lip-gloss.
Ass Jacket, West Virginia, the town where Zelda lived had good enough food places. But after a drunken one night stand with a crazy wolf shifter named Nevin, she’d snuck out of his apartment without waking him up. So she’d have to take Will out of town before stopping for food. She didn’t want to chance running into the guy she’d done the bump and roll on.
Nevin, who owned the burger joint in Ass Jacket, was the guy women never admitted to sleeping with. For one, he wasn’t all there in the brains department and, secondly, he slept with anything that walked on two legs.
Half an hour later, Jill parked in front of Zelda’s house. The witch stood on the porch with two women. By how fast their hands were flying in the air to punctuate words, they seemed to be arguing.
Zelda raked her fingers through her dazzling red hair as Jill approached. Her green eyes pinned Jill. “Tell these two I am not a love spell kind of witch.”
The women did a perfect synchronized turn to face Jill. One, an attractive but overly made up brunette, cocked an eyebrow. “I need her to help me get Ronald back. He’s gone off with a woman who musta put some kind of whammy on him.”
“I don’t think whammies work unless a guy’s somewhat willing,” Jill replied, making the shit up as she went along. “Zelda can’t make him come back.”
“Oh yes, she can,” the other woman said, with an indignant huff. “I’d cast the spell myself, but I’m on probation for tying up my husband.”
It was too much, she couldn’t stop it. Jill had to know. “He wasn’t a willing participant in bondage play?”
“It wasn’t like that. I tied him up in the basement for a month. He wanted to leave me. Not sure how word got out, but someone turned me into the witch council.”
She had to know more, couldn’t stop herself from asking. “What happened to him?”
“The council came and freed him. He wasn’t ready to go just yet, so he stayed another two weeks down there. Not sure why everyone thought it was so bad. He had a private bathroom, a large screen television and a stocked refrigerator full of beer and sausage.”
Zelda frowned. “Why didn’t you use a love spell on Frank instead of tying him up?”
The woman studied her fingernails. “They act kinda like zombies when you whammy them.”
Will’s bruised faced appeared through the window. “Hey, Jill.”
Zelda managed to get rid of the husband-doomed duo and they went inside.
Jill swung her long, dark brown hair back and leaned forward to hug Will. “How are you doing, buddy?”
“Not too bad. Zelda did her magic and I’m good as new.” Will whistled and looked her up and down. “You look a hot mess.”
She eyed him then looked to Zelda. “If I punch him in the left eye, he’ll have a matching set.”
Will grinned. “I told her not to fix up my face too much. With the bruises, I look badass.”
He didn’t.
They ambled toward the sound of a kettle whistling and, moments later, Jill drank hot tea and relaxed in Zelda’s kitchen. She filled the witch in on Mark and Clark’s crazy plans.
“Mac just went over there to drop his truck off to be tricked out. They’re very good at what they do.” Zelda shrugged. “But those two are trouble. Always manage to get into some kind of mess or another. I am still hearing about the big fire over at the carnival when they decided to work part-time as carnies.”
No truer words were spoken. Mark and Clark Johnson were nothing but trouble with a capital “T”. So why was she so inclined to go along on the harebrained idea of a reality show?
Probably because they were crazy and good looking enough to make it big. She didn’t want to be sitting on the couch eating ice cream and Doritos while someone else helped them make it big.
National television was her dream. After years of working at the tiny, local television station doing specials on the yard of the month or why riding the school bus was the cause of why kids peed in bed, she’d yet to see how it would help her progress to bigger things.
“I’m going to meet them at Jane’s. They are going to pretend they are dropping off Luke’s truck for the first time.” She let out sigh. “Now that I’ve got Will, he can do the camera work while I do commentary and some prop work.”
Zelda high fived her. “Go girl. I bet this is going to be awesome.” She eyed her outfit. “You should change first.”
“I have my bag in the c
ar.”
“Good.”
The doorbell rang, followed by pounding. Zelda looked up to the ceiling. “What now?”
Jill and Will left just as a family of tabby cat shifters brought in two males who’d gotten beat up the night before. From the looks of it, whoever they fought had a hankering for biting ears.
“I’m hungry. Can we stop at the burger joint here?” Will looked out the window as they passed Nevin’s restaurant. “Make a U-ey.”
“Nope. You can have McDonalds or something. I’m running late because of you.” Jill sped up so he’d not notice they passed a pancake house.
“Oh look, there’s Flap House. We could have stopped there.” Will moaned. “I’m starving.”
Fifteen minutes later, his lap piled with a bag full of fast food, the squirrel was happily chewing his meal up.
Jill reached for a fry and gobbled it up. “I need you to do camera work.”
“Okay, but what about Jason?”
“I didn’t want to call him. He’s taking the day off.”
Once the project became a sure thing, she’d ask her camera guy, Jason, a hunky wolf, if he would be interested in working part-time. For now, they worked at the station together and that was enough.
Jill and Will arrived at a beautiful log cabin and Jill could only stare agog. "Are you sure this is the place? Check the address one more time. It looks like a picture for a magazine cover!"
Will nodded, his eyes glued to his cell. "Yep, that's what mapzilla says."
Her friend, Jane, had married a hunky blond wolf named Luke, a pack leader. Jill had only seen him a couple times. Once at the wedding Jane had insisted on having and another time when she'd joined Jane on a girl’s night out and Luke had to pick them up after their designated driver got drunker than everyone else. Not that it mattered if the DD was inebriated or not since she'd taken off with the bartender.
"Wow. Jane must love it here.” They parked and got out of the car. The telltale black matching F150s were nowhere to be seen, so Jill assumed the twins were not there yet.
Magic and Mayhem: Reality Shift (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Southern Shift Book 2) Page 1
