Fur Magic Boxed Set: Talisman, Sage, Fawn, Lola: Paranormal Romantic Comedy
Read Fur Magic Boxed Set: Talisman, Sage, Fawn, Lola: Paranormal Romantic Comedy Online
Authors: Colleen Charles
FUR MAGIC
Box Set: Books 1 - 4
By
Colleen Charles
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Prologue
Shadowkeep, Arizona 1935
One who shines in the light of the moon, one who glows in the light of the sun.
May that one go forth from among those multitudes of their kindred who are underground.
May the Netherworld be opened to one who wishes to rejoin the living.
Black hooded figures danced around a blazing fire. An inferno of dead branches that produced a tower of light at least ten feet high. They chanted. They cursed. They called forward more and more evil until the ghoulish shadows of those who had laid down wickedness before them, swayed right alongside the human cloaked figures.
“Rosamund DeLaCroix. I curse thee and all your progeny from now until eternity.”
One hooded figure wore red. All the others deferred to her, their leader. After the spell was cast, the group continued on with the celebratory movement for a few more minutes. Then, the woods became silent and still. As still as a body without breath As still as death itself.
Sanguine Chokecherry turned and her red hood flew back to reveal her scarred face as she stabbed a wooden stake straight through the heart of Arwen Silverchime.
Shadowkeep, Arizona 2015
Today, I got killed by a tricked out Hummer.
Penelope DeLacroix of the Fur Motel Animal Shelter was standing in the middle of Bell road without her spectacles, trying to locate a stray Labradoodle as the lumbering vehicle careened toward her. Apparently, sending a text message about who’s hotter, Kim Kardashian or Kim Lee, while fondling your junk is more important to rich, twenty year old dipshits than watching the road. Not about to lose the love of my life, I catapulted my body into the roadway and took one for the team. Penelope only has one life, you know.
Luckily, I’m on life number three of nine so I have a few to spare before I take the final dirt nap. Penelope’s ancestors saved my first life and it would only be right that I return the favor. I’ve been with them ever since and I’ve lost a few lives due to those gorgeous but impetuous DeLacroix women. Still, my heart is broken. She wrapped her slender body around the dirty canine just in time to pick him up and place him in the back of her parked SUV.
Penelope didn’t realize that I’d saved her this time, so I didn’t get the desired credit that would usually include a belly rub and part of her tuna fish sandwich. Maybe that would come later after we got back to the shelter to feed the animals, an evening ritual that she looked forward to each day. Besides, I had the rumblings of a massive headache since I’d returned to the land of the living. That truck was huge and it had nailed me.
Penelope walked over to the Labradoodle in question and stroked his curly, black fur as she fed him a doggy treat.
“Talisman, what should we call him?” she asked as she crouched down so she could gaze into his liquid brown eyes. As if doing so would give her a window in to his soul and his name.
Who cares what we call him? All dogs belong in a cage. In response, I wound my way through her shapely legs figure eight style until she stopped long enough to give me a proper kitty massage. I wished that my powers included a window in to Penelope’s soul because then it might be easier to understand the curse that had siphoned off most of her powers. Lately, her magic had been off and her spells had gone awry, causing me a lot of grief as I tried to help her.
When I’m in kitty form, I can communicate telepathically with other animals but not with humans. I can only morph in to human form in an emergency and I can’t do anything other than gesture when I’m a man. Mute as a mime and damn near deaf due to the ringing in my ears from the transition. I glanced up at Penelope and waited patiently to see what we’d be calling the new guy.
As she continued stroking my long, black fur, she said, “I think we’ll name him Walter. He looks like a Walter to me.”
The dog shot me a pathetic look as he wagged his tail. I’d find out later what his name really was since I was certain it wasn’t Walter. He had so many thoughts racing through his addled mind right now, I couldn’t pinpoint a name. I don’t think anyone had named a dog Walter since June Cleaver had lectured The Beav. The Labradoodle continued to wag his curly tail and drool.
After Penelope went to bed later this evening, with me at her side, the shelter would come alive with all of the animals trying to get to know Walter. To decide if they’d like him or not and let him in to their cliques. The Fur Motel shelter was an eclectic group of strays, many of them residents for months if not years. Penelope would never let go of an unwanted animal; it just wasn’t in her tender nature. No matter how hapless, mangy, or ugly they might be. Or, how injured. Dr. Lucas Collier, our veterinarian, was brilliant at patching them up.
Penelope’s childhood home and acreage has been in her family for generations and so have I. Being charged with keeping the DeLaCroix women safe hasn’t been easy. Especially, since Pen got the bright idea to use the land surrounding her house as a shelter for hapless and helpless animals. Now, a nice breezeway, complete with kitty door, separates the house from the shelter. Great for me to keep an eye on everything. The building where the animals are housed contains a kitty condo, crates and kennels for the dogs and bird cages. There’s also a cozy barn out back in case of any farm type rescues.
Because of Penelope’s kind heart, many an unwanted animal had just been dumped on her doorstep with the anonymous owner slinking away in to the night. Penelope DeLacroix never turned down a throw-a-way and the small community knew it. Of course, I was the only pet animal on the premises. Unless you counted Sage, who’d been here for years. But Sage, as a Great Horned Owl, isn’t allowed in the house.
Chip. Chip. Chip.
It seemed the new kid had found his mental voice from the back of the vehicle.
Potato chip? There might be some crumbs on the floor.
No, stupid cat, that’s my name.
My condolences. Let’s try to get that point across as soon as we get home. But … if I were you, I’d stick with Walter.
Penelope’s got another passion besides saving furry creatures, giving them ridiculous names and finding homes for them. Remember Jane Austen’s book about a clueless matchmaker? You guessed it. Penelope DeLaCroix is a modern day Emma. Her love spells abound but they don’t always turn out the way she planned. She’s the owner of the Fur Motel animal shelter but some days it seems she’s running a side business. Clients come in looking for a canine or feline to keep them company but often end up with a suitor of the human variety, whether they want one or not.
We pulled in to the driveway and Pen put Walter on a leash to walk him in to the shelter. She placed him in a large kennel with some food and water. A few seconds after she’d sat down to enter his information in the shelter’s log, the jingle of the bell above the door caused Penelope to grab her glasses from the long, silver chain around her neck. She perched them on the end of her nose so she could see our visitor. The delight of recognition lit her mesmerizing blue eyes. Those same eyes had gazed upon me in the recent past with glee
and
admonishment. I strongly prefer the former. Besides, I had a killer headache from coming back to life after my car accident. I wasn’t sure I was up for guests.
“Jessie! It’s so great to see you,” Penelope exclaimed as she opened the door and enveloped the much older woman in a warm embrace. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since this summer when you were accepting your first place award for your apple pie at the Shadow festival. Did you bring one with you? I just love your pie.”
Jessie grimaced, her face a contorted mask of wrinkles and sadness. Maybe loneliness. I’m really smart and talented but I’m not a human mind reader. Who knows what had prompted this surprise visit from the old bat.
Jessie padded her plump figure over to Penelope’s armchair in the receiving area of the shelter where Pen’s desk sat, all worn mahogany and ornate scrolls. She liked to spend quiet evenings there doing paperwork while she allowed the animals to roam free around her. She’d speak to all of us in her lilting tone not knowing that we understood her perfectly. If only I could understand what she was thinking about at night, I might get the 4-1-1 on the mean witch that had cursed her.
And we animals wanted to respond to Penelope, we really did. Unfortunately, we could only communicate with each other and had to use gestures and actions to try to get through to our mistress. Even though Penelope was a capable witch from a long line of ancient witches, her powers didn’t involve any kind of telepathy as some other witches did.
As Jessie sank in to the overstuffed chair, a whooshing noise exploded throughout the room when the air escaped from the cushions under her ample girth.
Too. Much. Pie.
Penelope tried a more direct approach as she took the seat opposite the oldster. A gorgeous, tapestry armchair in paisley velvet with muted tones of lavender and purple. The color combination gave Penelope’s raven hair, alabaster skin, and piercing blue eyes a mystical quality, and Jessie probably didn’t like sitting next to a stunner if her constipated facial expressions were any indication.
“Pen, ever since my Clarence passed,” Jessie stopped mid-sentence to cross herself with her pudgy arms, bat wings of skin visibly flapping under her voluminous polyester blouse with her gestures, “God rest his soul. I’ve been doing nothing but baking, babysitting my grandchildren, and volunteering at church. I’m lonely. I need a companion.”
Penelope leaned forward and stared into the women’s eyes as if she needed to verify her seriousness before even considering giving up any of the shelter’s residents, even though she’d known Jessie and Clarence Plunks her entire twenty-five years. Shadowkeep was a small town of only a few thousand residents and everyone knew everyone else’s business. In my opinion, that could be good, but it could also be bad.
“Have you tried matchme.com?” Penelope asked, a twinkle lighting her eyes.
Penelope was nothing if not mischievous, and she got away with tormenting people because they were usually so blinded by her beauty and her ease of being in the world that they didn’t realize she was pulling their leg until it was long over.
“Now, you see here, missy,” Jessie said as she drew a deep breath that expanded her massive breasts toward the ceiling. The damn things looked like a shelf of pillowy softness. I wandered closer and thought about jumping in to her lap to see for myself. I bet I could take a nap there most comfortably. Even better than my kitty bed from Pet World.
“I am too old for that techno babble you youngsters have gotten involved in,” Jess continued. “Heck, your electronic devices are practically adhered to your palms. If I wanted a man … and I’m not saying I do. There’s nothing like the old-fashioned way. Speaking with your vocal chords and not your impersonal, black words on the screen.”
Penelope laughed outright, sat back in her chair, and clasped her tapered fingers together as if she were praying. It would take one hundred Hail Mary’s and even more Our Father’s to get a man to take an honest look at this woman as a potential mate. Penelope had her work cut out for her if she was trying to get Jessie to see her point of view about internet dating. I hoped Pen’s mind wasn’t going where it shouldn’t. She knew better, and I didn’t want to have to stop her when things went awry. I was starting to get short on lives.
But the extreme gleam in her eye said differently. Luckily, Pen couldn’t cast any kind of love spell unless both parties were physically present. Some high level advice was all she could offer and that would keep her out of trouble. For now.
Oh, hairballs.
Just when I thought it was safe to lay down, lick my paws and rest my battered body the bell jingled again and in walked a hulking beast of a man that I’d never seen before. Dressed in a red and black flannel shirt and overalls, he looked more like a contestant in a lumberjack contest than a resident of Shadowkeep. A town where the mystical ran deep and one never knew when they were speaking to someone with hidden powers.
“What is
he
doing here?” Jessie tried to rise with indignation but her stout legs and the low height of the chair kept her stationary as she started to huff and puff. She stared at the interloper as if he had leprosy. Or worse. I didn’t understand what her problem was. The man was a bit gruff to be sure, but he didn’t seem dangerous.
“Oh, simmer down, woman,” the newcomer spouted as dragged his large frame all the way in to the lounge where the two women sat waiting for him to explain himself. “Penelope, I’m here to get me a new friend. Ever since Margaret passed, God rest her soul, I’ve been lonely.”
Pen clapped her hands together with delight. “Harry Bakerson, that is just what Jessie and I were discussing.”
I watched Pen look between the two of them as they stared each other down in a standoff worthy of Doc Holliday.
No … no … no.
It was obvious these two ancients hated each other. If Pen decided to cast a love spell on these two, nothing good could come of it. Even if she cast the spell correctly, which rarely happened. Penelope’s powers had been siphoning off at an alarming rate and even she didn’t understand what was happening to her. And neither did I. Like last week when she’d tried to rescue a new cat from Fern Elder’s Sugar Maple and ended up falling off the ladder, flat on her behind. Under normal circumstances, she could have stopped herself from hitting the ground.
The only thing I understood was I had to morph into human form to get her out of her numerous debacles more often, which caused me to be tired more often than was necessary. Bone tired. If the light in my green jade collar went dark, that would be it for me. Lately, the gleaming, precious stone had been losing some of its luster.
I watched as Penelope’s fingers flew toward her right ear. If they were allowed to reach their target and she squeezed her earlobe, I wouldn’t be able to stop her from casting the spell on Jessie and Harry. I steeled my resolve and catapulted myself into her lap, knocking her hand down just as she was about to grab the flesh that would cause us all to start having one heck of a bad day. I rubbed my face in the crook of her neck and purred louder than I had in weeks.
“That’s a really pretty cat, Penelope,” Jessie said as she squinted and stared in my direction. Probably didn’t have her glasses with her. “I want that one.”
Penelope set me gently on the ground and stood up. “Sorry, Jessie. That’s Talisman and he’s my pet. I’ve owned him for years, so he’s not available for adoption. But, I’m happy to tell you we have five other gorgeous cats here that are looking for their forever homes. What about you, Harry? Are you looking for a dog or a cat?”