The Librarian from the Black Lagoon

by Heather Horrocks

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Happy Ending at 88%

  Half Title

  1 ~ Much Too Close for Comfort

  2 ~ Maybe He’s Playing with His Food

  3 ~ She’s a Tourist

  4 ~ Crazy Cat-Lady Starter Kit

  5 ~ Am I Dinner or a Mate?

  6 ~ His Incredibly Stinky, Slimy Shoulder

  7 ~ If She Wasn’t Careful, She’d Attract Fruit Flies

  8 ~ What Are the Odds of That?

  9 ~ Too Bad There Wasn’t Really a Love Potion #9

  10 ~ She Didn’t Have Any Magic

  11 ~ Even If It Killed Him and His Wolf

  12 ~ Then Go, Idiot

  13 ~ Her Knight in Furry Armor

  Epilogue ~ Taken Out of Circulation

  Thank you!

  Book Club Questions

  About the Author

  Other Books in This Series

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  Two Free Books in this Series

  Thanks again

  THE LIBRARIAN FROM THE BLACK LAGOON

  Moonchuckle Bay Short #1

  (MCB #3.5)

  Heather Horrocks

  Dedicated to my cousin, Annette Lehman, and her mother, Lynn Benson, who welcomed me into their home during many summers when I was growing up. You will be dear friends always.

  And to Mark, even though he still refuses to shift into a wolf. Or an owl. Or even a bear. Can you say stubborn…?

  THE HAPPY ENDING IS AT ABOUT 88% ~ ENJOY!

  In case you’re like me and want to know how close you are to the end of a book, and because there are pages that come after the end of a book (copyright, book club questions, about the author, excerpts, and — in some boxed sets — more novellas), I just want to let you know that ‘The End’ of this book is at approximately 88%. Enjoy.

  The Librarian from the Black Lagoon

  © 2017 Heather Horrocks

  Much Too Close for Comfort

  JOAN McCALL SHUDDERED IN REVULSION when her odious captor, who had her gripped between his — its? — slimy paws, sniffed her shoulder. Though the creature was surprisingly gentle when it mashed its face against hers, she retched from the overpowering rotten fish smell. Ugh. She might have to kill herself now.

  The monster had dragged her into the depths of the pond and brought her back up again, slinging her over its shoulder and carrying her to its lair. The monster — or whatever it was — slammed her into a large cage and locked the door. It studied her, cocking its head one way and then the other, Finally it snarled and turned away, ambling toward the back of the cave.

  Joan pushed back the panic as her heart pounded in her chest. She wouldn’t just sit helpless in this cage. No way. During a presentation at the library where she worked, she’d learned how to pick locks. Though her hair was somewhat disheveled because she’d been kidnapped, nearly drowned, and dragged through the trees, she hoped she had at least one hairpin left.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and found three.

  With its back still to her, the beast peed against a back wall and then raced back to the cage, sniffing at her again. Oh my gosh! she thought. That’s why it smells so horrid in here!

  She braced herself against the bars as it shook the cage. Her mind raced desperately as she tried to think of a way out of this nightmare.

  What did it want with her? Was she dinner? Did she smell like roast beef to this creature?

  After a few minutes, the beast wandered away again, this time to a pile of bones — what was left of the appetizer maybe? Another reason this place reeked.

  As terror reared its head, she struggled to remain calm. She refused to go down without a fight, so she had to find a way to master her fear. She’d read somewhere that in order to conquer fears, you had to name them. That probably wasn’t a literal suggestion, but she’d pretend it was. She would call this creature something that made it seem less scary. Nigel. She’d call the monster Nigel.

  Nigel, who’d risen from the waters of a murky pond, had snatched her up and carried her off as she’d walked past. She had only been trailing a few steps behind her hiking companions. Behind her, she’d heard the shouts of her fellow hikers, people she hadn’t known before the meet-up hiking experience in Moonchuckle Bay.

  Nigel, from whom she was going to escape before he ate her.

  Luckily, the beast hadn’t taken her fanny pack away. In it, she had necessary survival items. Forget pepper spray; she had the big guns — bear spray. Even though this monster thing was large, it probably wasn’t any bigger than a grizzly bear.

  Well, maybe just a little bigger than a grizzly.

  With her hands shaking, she kept her eyes on Nigel while he settled down on his haunches, half turned from her, and picked meat from those bones. She hoped they were animal bones and not some other human.

  Quietly, she unzipped her fanny pack and pulled out the bear spray, stuffing it into her pocket so her hands would be free to pick the lock.

  Then she put two of the hairpins in the pack, and pulled the little knobs off the ends of the third.

  Keeping an eye on the creature to make sure it was still noshing, she worked her way to the front of the cage by the door and began to work the hairpin into the lock. It took several minutes longer than the library presenter had taken, but this was only Joan’s second attempt. Finally, the lock clicked open — she’d done it! There was a slight sound from the monster’s direction, so she slipped the hairpin into her pack.

  Pulling out her bear spray, she readied herself.

  She had come prepared for a long hike, so she was wearing good tennis shoes. In addition to the bear spray, she had a knife, a compass, sunscreen, SPF-rated lip balm, a small flashlight, a few Band-Aids and ointment, a lighter, and a couple of protein bars.

  Being a librarian, she was always prepared. Her best friend, Natalie Coombs, said she was something of a know-it-all, but she certainly hadn’t seen this one coming. She definitely hadn’t planned on being kidnapped by some weird creature, that’s for sure. What was it, anyway? She peered at it through the bars. It was probably seven feet tall. Big Foot maybe?

  When she made it back to St. George, she was going to kill Natalie for talking her into this hike and then bailing on her.

  Joan studied the cave as she sat shivering in her wet clothes. It was large, about twenty by maybe thirty feet, and was one large, open room. The cage sat smack-dab in the center, with the living areas situated around the perimeter.

  She was still in the cage, and she realized she was stalling because she was scared. She reminded herself that he was just Nigel. Anything named Nigel surely wouldn’t hurt her.

  Especially not if she ran fast and used the bear spray.

  Okay, she told herself. Take a deep breath. In. Out. Slow yoga breaths. She closed her eyes and focused on aerating her body and preparing to run.

  The creature picked up another bone and turned away from her. This was her chance and she might not get another.

  She pulled out the bear spray, turning the cap so it was ready to spray. Ever so quietly, she slipped out of the cage before making a frantic dash for the entrance, fifteen feet away.

  She made it about ten feet when the creature roared and, holy crap, just like that, it was after her!

  It moved faster than she would have wished. She turned, aimed the canister, waited until it got within a few feet of her — and sprayed directly into its face.

  It paused and she thought the spray had worked, but the beast just shook its head and charged forward. She hit the spray button again, this time letting loose the entire load. Go down,
you mangey monster!

  She sidestepped as the creature roared again, this time in pain. It ran into the wall while pawing at its face.

  She didn’t hesitate — she took off running. She had no idea how long the spray would keep the beast incapacitated, but she wanted to get as far ahead of it as she could.

  She bolted out of the cave and into the falling dusk, pulling her flashlight out and flipping it on as she ran. She’d use it to get out of the immediate area, but Joan knew that when she got farther away, she may have to shut it off to stay hidden.

  Then it occurred to her that he could probably smell her.

  The bear spray was empty now, but she still clutched it in her hand as she pushed herself to go faster, her breath coming in quick gasps.

  Joan wasn’t sure how long she’d been running when she finally had to stop and catch her breath.

  She stood still and tried to listen around the pounding of her heart — and then she heard it.

  The monster was crashing through the underbrush toward her and, from the sound of it, he was much too close for comfort.

  Maybe He’s Playing with His Food

  DEPUTY LARRY KNIGHT PAUSED AS Sheriff Samuel Winston, his boss and fellow werewolf, answered his cell phone. They’d normally be on call, but since it was a full moon the non-werewolf deputies were supposed to be handling any problems that came up. However, this was the second call he’d received in the twenty minutes since they’d jogged out of town in their human forms.

  They were going running tonight, and possibly hunting, along with Elvis Smith, aka Elvis Presley — the Elvis Presley. That’s right – Elvis isn’t dead. He’s a werewolf and restauranteur in Moonchuckle Bay.

  Samuel listened, shook his head, and said, “Has Ty seen any sign of the woman?”

  They’d been notified earlier that a group of scared hikers had come back to town claiming a woman had been grabbed by something big. Each of them had given differing accounts of what the big something was — Sasquatch, a grizzly bear, and, the strangest of the descriptions, a giant brown walking fish. None of the hikers had gotten more than a glimpse, which was good because otherwise they’d all have to get forgetfulness spells, but bad because they had no idea what had taken the girl.

  Samuel had left instructions for the deputy in charge to contact Tyberius Thrakos, the town’s dragon, and ask if he’d fly over the area to see if he could spot the woman — or a giant walking fish.

  As the moon began to rise over the horizon, Larry felt the pull to shift, but he could control it. He didn’t absolutely have to change because of the moon, but when he was outside like this, it was harder to resist.

  Samuel hung up and huffed. “No sign of her.”

  A chill ran up Larry’s spine when a roar sounded through the trees. It was the sound of an apex predator, one he hadn’t heard in twenty years.

  “What is that?” Samuel was standing stock-still, his brows drawn together in concentration.

  They listened, and the roar came again.

  “That sounds like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Samuel frowned. “But what would he be doing up? He’s supposed to be hibernating for another decade.”

  The monster only came up every thirty years or so, usually. When it did, it was either for a feeding frenzy — sometimes of humans — or to find a mate. But there were no mates for this unlucky guy.

  “Do you suppose this could be a different one?” Larry asked.

  “I hope not,” Samuel said. “It sounds angry.”

  “I don’t think so.” Elvis shook his head. “It sounds like he’s hunting.”

  The three men exchanged glances.

  Samuel said, “Do you suppose he’s after the woman?”

  “Or maybe he’s already got her?” Elvis drawled, sounding worried.

  Larry said, “If he already has her, then what’s he hunting?”

  Samuel shrugged. “Maybe she got away. Or maybe he’s playing with his food.”

  Without another word, the three of them started running again, this time shifting into their wolf forms as they did.

  One second, three men were rushing through the woods. The next second, there was a black wolf, a brindle wolf, and Larry’s own gray wolf bounding through the undergrowth.

  Larry hoped three werewolves would be enough to take down the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

  The monster roared again, higher pitched, and he feared they wouldn’t reach the victim in time, whoever it was.

  She’s a Tourist

  JOAN RACED THROUGH THE TREES, adrenaline fueling her feet and her lungs. The full moon provided enough light for her to see her way, so her flashlight was now safely back in her fanny pack.

  The crashing sounds and the roars were growing ever closer, and she fought against the panic. Breaking free of the trees, she ran into a small meadow — and froze in her tracks.

  Three large wolves were racing straight toward her.

  Wow. Three wolves in front of her and a horrible monster behind her. She decided on the fly to take her chances with getting past the wolves, but she couldn’t get her feet to start moving again. She was frozen to the spot.

  Shaking herself free of the fear, she stared wide-eyed at the three large animals bearing down on her. She’d been thinking about getting a dog, but this was ridiculous.

  This day had gone from bad to worse and she decided right then and there that she was never going hiking again!

  She opened her fanny pack and prepared to fight the wolves if need be. She’d already used the bear spray, so all she really had left was her metal flashlight. She threw it and the empty spray canister at the wolves, then picked up some large rocks as she tried to make her way around them.

  The wolves jumped to the side, but kept coming, racing toward her, yipping.

  Then one, a large gray wolf, raced ahead and stood in front of her — and snapped at the other two wolves! The two stopped running and growled back.

  The gray wolf snarled ferociously, raising the hair on her neck.

  That was unexpected. Not the hair-raising response, but the wolf standing down his canine companions.

  Was the gray wolf protecting her? Or, more likely, claiming her as his kill?

  Hysterical laughter bubbled up within her, because another roar sounded behind her, growing way too close, from the monster that had claimed her as his kill already.

  A loud crashing announced that the monster had arrived in the clearing and Joan and the wolves all turned to watch as the enraged creature stomped toward her.

  What was she, a librarian, doing in a clearing trapped between a monster and three wolves?

  Preparing to die, she suspected.

  Best case scenario? They’d all get in a big fight and she could sneak off. Somehow she didn’t think that’s what was about to happen.

  Larry was determined to protect this woman. In fact, he felt an overwhelming need to do so.

  He couldn’t pause to study her because, hello, Creature from the Black Lagoon, but she was super attractive. She smelled a little funny, though — kind of like the monster. Had he already touched her?

  The monster lunged at him, and Larry jumped to the side and nipped its arm.

  The monster pulled back, staring at the puncture marks. Then it roared, furious, and came at him again, this time focusing on him instead of the woman. Good. He darted in again and nipped at its leg.

  Samuel and Elvis darted in with him, again and again, maddening the creature.

  It backhanded Elvis and sent him flying several feet through the air, but he jumped back up, shook himself, snarled, and jumped back into the fray.

  The creature focused on the woman again and Larry had a sickening thought.

  The only reason this type of creature rose from the waters was because it needed to find food or a mate. Did it think this woman was its mate? If so, they might not be able to keep it from following her without putting them all in grave danger.

  It stepped toward the woman. Oh no
you don’t. Larry leaped in again. This time the creature was quicker and caught him on the shoulder, sending him tumbling.

  He lay still for a second, the wind knocked out of him. That thing could punch. He stood, caught his breath, and despite the pain in his shoulder, ran back in.

  He caught a scent of … bear spray? Had this woman used bear spray on the beast? She was feisty, then, and that thought pleased him.

  They fought for what seemed like forever, but was probably only ten or fifteen minutes. The beast was bleeding from their bites, and they were all limping and in pain.

  Finally, the three of them proved to be too much for the monster, who roared his frustration and backed away.

  Larry and the other two wolves gathered the last of their reserves, snarled and stepped toward the beast.

  With one last defiant roar, the monster turned and ran into the trees, back toward the lagoon.

  As soon as Larry knew the danger was over for the moment, he turned back toward the woman.

  She wasn’t there.

  He sniffed and followed her trail to ... a tree.

  Looking up, he saw her clinging to a branch. She looked scared, but defiant.

  A tourist. And he was here as a wolf. Well, there was nothing else for it. They were going to have to shift in order to get her safely back to Moonchuckle Bay. They’d probably have to give her a forgetfulness spell. Which was too bad, because then she’d forget how he came to her rescue, and he’d really like to have her look at him as a hero.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated on shifting back into human form. Luckily, he was old enough to appear with clothes on; it was going to be traumatic enough for her to watch a wolf transform into a clothed man.

  Quickly, he said, “You’re safe now,” but the shift from wolf to man had apparently been too much for her. It was a good thing that he’d shifted where he had, because she fainted and toppled out of the tree.