My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Michelle M. Pillow

  "Baba Yaga," he started.

  "Call her Booby Yumpy," I corrected him, then I winced in pain as the fox's cracked skull mended. I quickly blasted and swore my way through the rest of the wounded. Which left only Chuck with a large tear in his belly.

  "Nice work." Simon grinned. "Booby Yumpy really gave you no choice at all."

  "How's that?" I grunted as I fixed the bloody hole in Chuck's stomach.

  "She told you to protect the area. She told you to maintain the balance and destroy anything in the area that threatened our races."

  "Yes. And?"

  This cryptic shit was giving me more of a headache than healing head wounds.

  "Spit it out," I demanded.

  "The syringe is in the area. It will be your responsibility to find it and eliminate it," Simon said as he backed away.

  My magic turned from lavender to green and began to shoot erratically around the room. Shifters ducked for cover.

  "That is so fucking unfair," I shouted. "She is such a bitch. So I had no choice at all. I'm going to die finding the syringe."

  "You will not die because you will not be fighting alone—ever again," Mac said with authority.

  "You heard her," I snapped. "I have to do it by myself."

  "No. That was the first choice. You rejected the first choice. You chose to stay. You have a very large extended family now who will have your back."

  His eyes were warm and filled with something I was afraid to name.

  I calmed and peeked around the room. Shifters nodded and stood tall. I was amazed and humbled. How did this happen to me?

  "I will defend you and help you," Fabio said as he dropped to his knee.

  "So will I," Chuck and Simon called out and then knelt down like my father.

  They started an avalanche of shouting. Every single Shifter in the room called out their support and then went down on bended knee. Mac stood beside me and took it all in.

  "You are loved," he whispered.

  I wanted to ask him if he meant by him, but I wasn't ready to have the tables turned back on me. Raw emotion was tricky and I wasn't sure I knew what love really meant… yet.

  But just maybe I was willing to try.

  "Can we still go to the river?" I asked shyly.

  "Would you like that?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  "Would you?" I countered.

  "More than anything in the world," he assured me as the crowd cheered. It was a little disconcerting to know we were getting whoops and whistles for going off to have sex in a public area, but I didn't care. I wanted this man more than I wanted the new Prada bag that wasn't on the market yet.

  "We can't mate yet," I told him seriously.

  "Yet?" His joyous smirk made me giggle. "There's a chance for me?"

  "Possibly, but you have to pass some more tests and take me out on fifteen dates where no one dies. Deal?"

  "Deal."

  His kiss was downright lewd. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me out of the bar and into the cold Halloween night. I said goodbye to no one. I couldn't see anything except the strong, beautiful man in front of me. We would definitely have fights if we were mated. I could feel it in my gut, but we would also have joy and some of the greatest sex ever.

  "Would I really have puppies?" I asked.

  He stopped and chuckled.

  "No, Zelda. We will have human babies, but they will be very special. They will be Shifters with healing magic."

  "Did you say babies?"

  His sexy grin melted me. "Yep."

  "I'm agreeing to nothing," I snapped as he plopped me on his motorcycle. "I'm just on a fact finding mission."

  "Whatever you say." His voice was gruff and my panties dampened.

  "Just get on the bike and drive," I said as I punched him and he threw his head back and laughed. "Now."

  I was seconds from jumping his fine ass in the parking lot. We needed to get to the river immediately.

  "Will do, my love. Will do."

  Epilogue

  Dear Aunt Hildy,

  I know it's a little odd to write to you considering you're dead and I have no clue if you will ever see this, but I wanted to put down in words what I wish I could say to you.

  I would have loved to have known you. Watching the replay of your death was one of the worst moments of my life. I want you to know that I got the fucker who killed you and took your magic. He's with the Warlock Council. I am sure he has wished for death many times over. Those old bastards are scary.

  I took your magic back and it's inside me. It comforts me to know I possess part of you. I would much prefer to have you with me, but if this is the way it was meant to be just know I will take good care of it and do my best not to blow up the continental U.S. However, I can't promise that I can control that.

  Most of this adventure has been a clusterfuck, but I am still alive to tell. I found my father, your brother, and I'm dating Mac. I thought you might like to know that. As far as Fabio, or ”Naked Dude” as I like to call him goes, we are taking it slow. He likes to shop for me and he makes outstanding pancakes. He misses licking his balls, but I'm sure anyone would. I'm beginning to think we can make the family thing work. I can't seem to bring myself to call him Dad, but he seems to be getting used to ”Naked Dude”.

  I plan to stay in Assjacket, West Virginia for the time being. I think I'm happy which scares the hell out of me, but I want to give it a chance. Mac thinks I'm his mate, but he still has fourteen death-free dates to go before I will give his claim any serious consideration. He has sworn repeatedly that we would not have puppies, but I am still searching for proof.

  I've made real friends here and I'm proud of the way I use my magic. I refuse to share these facts with anyone but you because you're dead and real emotion is uncharted territory for me. I'm not ready to go there yet.

  I promise to take care of the Shifters. I am going by Shifter Wanker, not Shifter Whisperer. It's a long story, but trust me, the name suits. I will find that fucking syringe and I will destroy it. I so wish you were here to help me, but I know that's impossible. Even though I didn't know you I miss you terribly. Thank you for the beautiful home. However, I wish you were a size four because you had rockin' taste in clothes.

  I did get a TV. Actually ”Naked Dude” probably bought it with bad credit cards. I can't believe you lived without one. I would love to watch Project Runway with you. Or SpongeBob. Regrets are for pussies and I am not a pussy. I send you my love and hope you are in a beautiful place. I will cherish our home and keep your spirit alive.

  Currently '”Naked Dude” is soundproofing his bedroom. Apparently Mac and I are loud.

  xoxo Zelda (the Shifter Wanker)

  I flicked my finger and a burst of icy pink and silver crystals flew through the room. I grinned. It was Hildy's magic. I'd gained colors I never knew existed. A sparkling mystical breeze picked up the note and with another flick of my hand the note magically disappeared into the universe. There was no telling if it would fall into Aunt Hildy's hands, but for some bizarre reason… I thought it just might.

  — THE END (for now)—

  * * *

  The series continues with

  Witch Glitch

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  About Robyn Peterman

  Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper.

  * * *

  Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke Zero Cherry with extra ice in a Styrofoam cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her super-hot hubby and collecting stray animals.

  * * *

  A former professional actress with Broadway, film and T.V. credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count.

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  Writing gives her peace and makes her whole, plus having a job where you can work in your underpants works really wel
l for her. You can leave Robyn a message via the Contact Page and she’ll get back to you as soon as her bizarre life permits! She loves to hear from her fans!

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  Rogue by Debra Dunbar

  Northern Wolves Series

  Debra Dunbar

  Prologue

  “Who is that?” I transferred the bottle of beer that I’d been nursing for the last hour to my other hand so I could point rudely at the man emerging from the woods at the end of Brent’s property.

  “That’s Karl.” Ahia took a swig from her own bottle. The Nephilim had been drinking steadily since we were setting up this morning, but she never seemed to get drunk. Werewolves had a heck of a tolerance when it came to booze, but Ahia always could drink us under the table.

  “The grizzly shifter?” I asked. Every year there was an open invitation to all shifters to attend the Juneau Pack barbeque, but no one except for wolves had ever come. This was a first.

  “Yeah. Hot, isn’t he? Damn, I’ve been trying to hit that for the last five years, but he always says no. And he says no in a way that makes me think he’ll punch me in the face if I ask again.” The Nephilim chuckled. “So, of course, I keep asking. Not that the answer is ever different.”

  I could see why Ahia was so persistent. Wow, the guy was smoking. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy hair that brushed his shoulders and a scruffy look that said he didn’t like to shave more than once a week. He walked with a graceful lope across the lawn, shaking hands with Brent, our Alpha, who’d walked over to meet him.

  The grizzly shifter looked like a wild man come out of the woods after decades in seclusion. And that contributed just as much to his hotness factor in my eyes as his powerful form. It was funny, actually, that I’d be attracted to this kind of guy when I was the type of werewolf who owned a walk-in closet full of tailored clothing, loved scented bath gels, and never left the house without my make-up perfectly done. Yeah, I loved to shift and hunt down deer as much as the next wolf, but once I shifted back, I at least touched up the mascara and the lipstick and ensured my glossy red curls weren’t a tangled mess.

  I broke out of my thoughts, realizing that Brent was leading the grizzly shifter over to us.

  “Karl, this is my second, Sabrina. And you know Ahia.”

  The grizzly grunted. I got the idea that was his go-to method of communication. Not that I could say anything polite or welcoming in response to Brent’s introduction. I was too busy staring at his amazing eyes—hazel with flecks of gold that were far too bright to pass as human.

  There was something dark behind those eyes, something dangerous and amoral, something predatory. Smoking hot. Radiating a power that nearly suffocated me. And scary. The last two turned me on as much, if not more, than the first.

  “Karl! My man! Wanna fuck?”

  Oh Lord. Times like this I just wanted to stab Ahia.

  For some reason the grizzly’s eyes jerked to meet mine at Ahia’s proposal. I sucked in a breath. That brooding, smoldering expression seemed like it was designed to make me come at a glance. And it nearly did. Holy crap where had this guy been the last few years? I knew why Ahia was constantly trying to get him in the sack. He might not be my type at all, but I’d sell my soul for a night with this guy. I’d bet he was amazing in bed. Amazing.

  His gaze left mine to glare at the Nephilim. “I’ve got no interest in beddin’ you, Ahia. Go fuck a tree stump if you’re that horny.”

  His voice was rough and gravelly, as if he seldom spoke or he was a chain-smoker. I didn’t smell any tobacco on him and I had a werewolf’s nose, so I could only assume he was a man of few words. A wild man. A grizzly shifter who’d come out of the woods to eat burgers and drink beer with a rowdy bunch of werewolves. This was going to be the most interesting party we’d ever had. And judging from that intense look in his eyes, I was full of hope that this party would end with the pair of us naked and sweaty in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

  “I’m done. Done, I tell you,” Zeph slurred, his forehead hitting the top of the table. We’d been at it all day—food, beer, horseshoes, volleyball, cannonball contests in the pool, more beer, bonfires. Eventually beer turned to shots which meant nearly half the pack was sprawled out in the grass, inebriated.

  I wasn’t. Second to the Alpha meant I needed to not be passed out in the dirt. I was tipsy, but I could function.

  “Thought you wolves were tougher. Next time I’ll bring some milk.”

  Zeph lifted his head and trained his bleary eyes on the man across from him. “Normally I’d pin you to the ground with my teeth at your throat for those words, but I’m drunk and I’m not stupid enough to mess with a bear. Here.” He slid a bottle across the table. “You won. Take it and leave me to sleep it off here at the table.

  The “bear” reached out and grabbed the bottle with far less deference one should have given Woodford Reserve bourbon. “That’ll teach you to try to outdrink a grizzly,” he said. Then he grinned and examined the label on the bottle of bourbon.

  A grizzly shifter. At our barbeque. I still couldn’t get over the novelty of it. Most of the black bear shifters were down in the lower forty-eight, but Alaska was home to the majority of the brown bear shifters. There were a few coastal brown bears in the south and up in Anchorage, one or two Kodiak shifters that roamed all over the north, and anywhere from fifty to seventy grizzlies at any given time. No one knew exactly how many. They were independent, solitary, and introverted. We all got along just fine, we just didn’t run across bear shifters more than once a month. We’d nod, exchange a few words, then go on our way. It wasn’t only that it was a novel occurrence for a grizzly shifter to join a party full of noisy, physically demonstrative, rowdy wolf shifters, it was that Karl truly appeared to be enjoying himself. He wasn’t the most loquacious guy I’d ever met, but he’d joined in every game, chatted amicably with the members of my pack, took a turn flipping burgers on the grill.

  And all night his eyes had followed me. If I went inside, he was watching for my reappearance. If I went to sit by the pool, he left whatever he was doing and moved nearby. He was never creepy or stalkery, just present. A werewolf would have made a move four hours ago. Heck, a werewolf would have propositioned me right after he’d grabbed that beer from the cooler. But this guy seemed content to just be near me.

  Weird. And honestly the best sexual build-up I’d ever experienced. If the guy didn’t make a move soon, I would. And if he said no, I’d be spending a lot of quality time with my vibrator tonight.

  I hesitated, watching the bear’s hand on the bottle. Then my eyes traveled up his arm to his hazel eyes. He lifted the bottle.

  “This any good?”

  I swallowed. His voice was deep, gruff, husky—so very sexy.

  “Yeah. It’s really good.”

  He stood and I looked upward because the guy was well over six feet tall and proportioned accordingly. “Then let’s share it.”

  Share it, or share it? I made a quick decision. “There’s a stream that runs through the back of the property. There’s a mossy bank where you can hear the gurgle of water over rocks, and see the fireflies against the dark woods on the other side.”

  “This a date?”

  I hesitated, then chickened out. “No, just a quiet place to drink some whisky.”

  He grunted and waved the bottle. “Then lead the way.”

  We walked away from the light of the bonfire, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The sounds of laughter died away, replaced by insect song and the brush of our feet through the tall grass. The bear shifter followed me down a steep embankment, through a wooded area and to a clearing where moonlight reflected off the surface of the stream, the golden blink of fireflies giving the whole scene a fairy-like atmosphere.

  I heard the crack of the seal breaking on the bottle and the nudge of glass against my bare arm.

  “Here. You first.”

  Crap. I’d forgotten glasses. I can’t believe I was about to drink hun
dred-dollar booze out of the bottle.

  I lifted it to my lips and took a sip. Warm and smooth with a honey and oak aroma and a sweet, slightly bitter finish. Just because it was so very nice, I took another sip before handing it back to the bear.

  He took it and sat on the moss, his back against a tree. I dropped down beside him, chuckling as I watched him gulp the bourbon.

  “Whoa there, wild man. We’re not at a frat party here, that’s sipping whisky.”

  He eyed the label then passed the bottle back to me. “I was sipping. Otherwise half the bottle would be gone.”

  Sheesh. How this guy was still standing after drinking two werewolves under the table was beyond me. “So…Karl the grizzly shifter at a werewolf party,” I said, taking another sip. “What made you decide to come to the barbeque? Were you in the neighborhood and drawn in by the amazing aroma of hamburgers and ribs?”

  “Get asked every year and figured I’d see if you wolves had any decent food and booze.”

  He was such a bear. “So…?”

  He took the bottle from me. “Ribs were good. Burgers were better.”

  Yes, they were. Brent, our Alpha, had made a mix of beef, venison, and sausage. We’d been taste-tasting spice blends for a month, and Allison had ordered in some specialty goat cheese. Drew had even cooked a bunch of pork loin and shredded them to use as a topping.

  “Next year I’ll bring some smoked trout. You like fish?” He nudged my arm again with the bottle.

  Surprisingly I liked the idea of a “next year” with Karl. Being second to the Alpha had kind of put a damper on my dating life. The dominant wolves chafed at my superior position in the hierarchy, and I wasn’t attracted to the submissive wolves. I’d tried dating some of the guys from the other packs, hoping to find a dominant wolf that wouldn’t want to constantly be in a battle for control, but the distance killed any idea of a relationship with them. When it’s three hours by plane to see your main squeeze, romance snaps from the strain—at least for me.