Scarlett: Furry Tale Shifters

by Nicky Fox

  Scarlett

  Furry tale shifters

  Nicky Fox

  Copyright © 2018 by Nicky Fox

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Designer: Lee Ching with Undercover Designs

  Editor: Virginia Tesi Carey

  Proofreader: Marla Selkow Esposito

  Formatting: Affordable Formatting

  Photographer: Margarita Kareva

  For Adam

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Subscribe

  Also by Nicky Fox

  Prologue

  Scarlett

  Sliding the car into park, I tap my nails on the steering wheel to the Christmas music playing over the radio. They seem to play it over the waves earlier and earlier every year. It’s not even December. I don’t object. I love Christmas and this time I’ll be home to celebrate. It’s with a heavy heart though.

  My eyes travel from the gas station to the quaint town around me. Bremen has always been a picturesque town. There are worn cobblestones that lead around the main square complete with a gazebo and trees lit with twinkle lights. Lampposts are decorated with wreaths and garland. Shoppers are rushing to get to stores before they close. This town feels like Christmas already. Pushing my car door open, I get out to fill up my tank. I think I can even smell a hint of cinnamon over the gas aroma.

  Or maybe all of this is just nostalgia. It’s going to be difficult when I reach my late grandmother’s house. I used to spend my summers here with her when I was a kid. It was like coming home. She baked the best bread and taught me how to sew gathered around her kitchen table. You know how some grandparents’ houses smell . . . well, old? Nan’s always smelled like food, great food. Walking into her house made your mouth water. It won’t be the same without her now.

  The pump clicks and jumps in my hand, signaling that the tank is full. By the time I’m in my car and pulling away from the station, a feeling of dread has come over me. I’ve dropped everything in my life to come here. Quitting my job was the easy part; I hated it. I was a waitress and my manager was a real jerk, always hitting on me and the other waitresses. I only stayed at that job because it allowed me to go to school full-time. It was hard finding work in the city but it was even more difficult finding a place to live. I roomed with three other girls and we were packed in that two-bedroom apartment like sardines. There was no privacy at all, I hated it. If my plan works out, I plan on staying here throughout the holidays and attending a nearby college to finally finish my degree.

  When I received the call that my grandmother had passed away, I was completely devastated. I knew she hadn’t been feeling well. Nan had been confined to her old recliner for a week with what she called a little cold. I should’ve visited her. Maybe I could’ve taken her to the doctor, gotten her the meds she needed to get over it. Instead, she died in that recliner alone of complications from pneumonia. Her housekeeper found her two days later.

  A tear runs down my cheek as the guilt of not being there for her rises up once again. She died alone. I’ll never forgive myself for it. Nan was my person; the person I called when I needed advice, when I was in trouble, when I needed warmth and sweet words. I’m close to my parents, sure. They’re there for me in all the ways parents should be. But my Nan was the special person in my life that just got me. We were so alike. She used to kid me that I had the mind of an eighty-year-old woman. A laugh escapes my lips and I’m caught off guard.

  This is how’s it’s been the past six months. Out of nowhere, I’ll start crying and the next moment I’m laughing at something my nan had said. Grief is a funny thing. For me, my memories have become a warm blanket. The way she died has become a wasteland of torment and guilt, a desert I will wander until her and I meet again. Gosh, this is depressing. I turn the Christmas music up as I curve around the bend leading to the large secluded house.

  It took her lawyer six months to contact me and tell me that Nan had left me her house. When you’re living with three other girls and get a call that you inherited a large spacious house, you quit your job and hop into your junk heap of a car and head to grandmother’s house. To be honest, I was surprised she left it to me. I thought her sister would already be living in it. Apparently, my great-aunt passed away a month ago. I had no idea. After Nan’s funeral, I was in a bad place. I just wasn’t thinking clearly, in a fog of mourning and I left right after the service. It was just too difficult to come to terms with her death at that time. I couldn’t wrap my head around her being gone, no longer there to give me advice and make me laugh.

  After many phone calls with my mom, she told me something that has stuck with me and now I carry with me wherever I go. She said that Nan is now my guardian angel, and she’s looking out for me. I completely believe my mom. My nan would never just leave me to the world. Now, it feels like she’s with me. I can function and live my life somewhat in peace. The guilt will always be there but it’s more manageable thinking that she is looking down on me from heaven. My mom was never as close to her as I was. I think Nan knew I’d need a place to stay, a place to call home, and that’s why she left me the house.

  She would love me living in it. I just hope I can get a job soon enough to pay for the upkeep of it. She has an expansive house, and it requires a lot of maintenance. It’s been in limbo for six months, and I don’t know if anyone has been out there since the funeral service. I’m reluctant to see what state it’s in. Of course, the drive took much longer than I anticipated. The light of day is long gone and the mischief of night has taken over. I have a pretty wild imagination; it gets the best of me sometimes.

  I finally see the house appear at the end of my headlights. Damn. The driveway is overgrown with weeds and dead plants encompass the yard. Shutters look all wonky hanging off the house and the paint is peeling. The structure is still good. The windows are all intact and the front door is still attached. It just needs a little elbow grease and tender loving care. This home always reminded me of a gingerbread house with its Tudor style, brown tones, and gables. I wish I arrived here when there was still light in the sky. The place looks eerie, unwelcoming. Bremen is not the type of place to have squatters, so I’m not worried about someone taking temporary residence in the house, but there could be animals seeking refuge. The state of the house right now looks like a perfect setting for a murder mystery.

  My imagination is conjuring up a dude with a mask and a chainsaw that could rush out of the door any second. Maybe I should sleep in my car and wait until daylight? My car is cozy and still warm. I have a nice fleece blanket. It could work. I know I’m being ridiculous. I just need to unbuckle my seat belt and get my booty out of the car. I haven’t called the electric company to turn on the lights yet, all I have is a flashlight. Maybe there are candles stored in her kitchen drawer I can use.

  Taking a deep breath, I settle in my resolve to go insid
e. The car door creaks open, and I quickly shut it to stop the sharp sound. Glancing around me, I inspect the windows to see if there’s any movement inside. My legs feel heavy and protest as I shuffle to the front door. I’m halfway to the steps when the door bursts open and an overbearing man charges out. My breath catches in my throat and I stagger back, tripping over my own feet and landing on my ass.

  “What are you doing here?” The scary man’s voice sounds strained. I clutch at my throat on instinct and peek down to his hands, noticing an ax gripped there. Holy shit. This is like a horror film.

  “Please. Don’t hurt me!”

  Chapter 1

  Scarlett

  “That shipment of carnations just arrived. We’ll be set for funerals all next week.” Lugging a bag of soil over my shoulder, I nod at Rose and continue my trek to the potting bench. Who knew that within a few days I’d have a job at a great little florist shop and have made friends with the owner, Rose, and her sister Firn? Rose in Bloom is a quaint shop full of bubbly girls and amazing scents along with some Christmas tunes, it’s the perfect place for me to work.

  I just hope the money here is enough to fix all the problems with the house. There’s no hot water in the entire house and no dishwasher. The fridge and the toilets thankfully work but a lot of the electrical seems to be on the fritz. The roof leaks in the dining room and don’t even get me started on the bug infestation.

  I drop the bag on the table and scratch the back of my leg with the front of my foot. That’s where I was bitten last night by a spider. I shiver at the memory. A scary looking spider seemed to think sleeping in my bed was a good idea. I almost burned those sheets. A shiver wracks my body again, and I rub my arms to try to warm them. Another memory comes back to me, the night I met Paul Hemlock, the large imposing figure in the doorway of my grandmother’s house.

  “Please. Don’t hurt me,” I plead and crab walk backward to get as far away from him as I can. He follows. It’s dark, and my eyes only pick up a silhouette. When he steps out into the moonlight I’m taken back by his gorgeous face. I was expecting a white hockey mask or a warped leather face from my recollections of horror movies. There’s nothing resembling anything so ugly. His sharp nose nicely complements his angular jaw but is softened by his beard. The man’s dark hair hangs in his face, framing his bright golden eyes. Those golden eyes focus on mine and I can’t look away. Until I notice he’s not wearing a shirt. Does he not feel how cold it is out? I mean his nipples aren’t even hard. What the hell? I can’t put my finger on it but it’s like we’ve met before, yet I’m sure I’d recognize a face and body like his.

  “I would never hurt you.” I sense torment in his words. I don’t know how to make heads or tails of him. His stance is defensive but his words are soothing and torturous. I’m terrified and turned on at the same time. I’m confused by my conflicting feelings. He screams danger, but his eyes bring me in and make me feel like we’re connected, like I’m safe.

  “Who . . . who are you?” I stutter under my breath. I’ve stopped my escape as we’re in a battle of who can blink first. I think he’s winning since I haven’t been able to keep my eyes from fluttering. He’s stock-still and tilts his head at me like he’s confused.

  “I’m Paul Hemlock.” He pauses, waiting for me to say something. I hold my breath until he finishes his sentence. Why is he at my Nan’s house? Paul nods his head as if he understands and continues. “I’ve been taking care of this place since your grandmother passed. I’ve had to rush a few dirty lawyers off the premise trying to capitalize on her death. Cretins. I hate lawyers, always trying to make a buck off of someone else’s misfortune.” Shaking his head, Paul leans his ax on one of the porch posts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Red.”

  Red? My Nan used to call me that. He must’ve known her well to know about me and my nickname. Maybe he’s her handyman? She mentioned a young strapping lad a time or two. This is probably him. I slowly get off my rear and dust off the debris with my hands. I peer up at him from under my lashes and notice that he’s watching me intently. Shuffling my feet toward him, I slowly raise my mitten-clad hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Paul.” His reaction is quite funny. He scratches the back of his neck and extends his large hand toward mine, gently squeezing. “Thank you for taking care of my grandmother’s house. It really means a lot to me.” Paul dips his head in acknowledgment.

  “You sure are thinking hard about somethin’.” Rose pokes me in my side and giggles. She’s the best manager I’ve ever had, and I’ve only worked for her for a week. I can just tell her and her sister, Firn, are good people. Rose gets me to take breaks and is constantly introducing me to people in the community. She’s also given me recommendations for the best place for Asian food and the cheapest dry cleaners, not that I have any clothes that need to be dry cleaned, but it’s the thought that counts. I feel like she’s trying to sell me on the place, or maybe she’s trying to sell it to herself. I smile at Rose’s previous comment.

  “Do you know Paul Hemlock?” I glance over at her and then quickly look down so she doesn’t see me blush. That man is something else. His broad shoulders, lumberjack arms, firm chest, and those golden eyes. I sigh. Unfortunately, Rose hears it and giggles.

  “Oh, I know Paul Hemlock. Every woman in Bremen knows Paul.” Rose sets a gorgeous bouquet of hydrangeas down on another work table. Her comment makes me pause. Every woman in Bremen knows Paul? What does that mean? Is he some sort of player? Does he get around town and bed all the women? No wonder he was looking at me like fresh meat. I’m probably the one woman who hasn’t been in his bed. Ugh! I’m so stupid. I must be scowling because Rose approaches me and pats me on the shoulder.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, sweetie. Just that he’s so attractive, but he’s never dated anyone. So, all the women are aware of him but none have conquered him yet.” She winks and goes back to her arrangement. Rose pops her bubblegum in her mouth and carries on with her duties. I’m left wondering about Paul Hemlock. He seems so mysterious, and yet, kind, and thoughtful. From what I’ve gathered around town, so far, he’s a lumberjack, handyman, and wildlife commissioner. He wears many hats and is well respected throughout the community.

  Firn told me a bit about him too. Apparently, Paul has won The Bremen Lumberjack Ax of Glory five years in a row. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she has a crush on him. She said she loves her books more than any man, so I take it that she’s not interested in him that way. Firn is a quiet sort. If she’s not helping customers, then she has her face in a book. She’s the opposite of her sister. Rose is more of a ballbuster. She’s rowdy, flighty, and expressive. Laughing is infectious around her. Surprisingly, they get along very well, almost as if they balance each other out. They both have dark glistening hair and red lips. They could almost be twins. I know Rose is a little older, around my age of twenty-five. Firn can’t be older than twenty-one. So far, it’s been a lively place to work.

  As if thinking of her makes her appear, Firn enters the back with an order. “I’ve got a delivery for you, Scarlett.” I’m their new delivery girl. I have the privilege of delivering flowers to the community. It’s been the best way to meet new people, get outside and enjoy the cool weather as well as see their surprised faces as they receive their arrangements. I absolutely love it. Luckily, I brought my old trusty bike with me. It’s complete with a basket and bell. They were looking for a new delivery girl since their old one left town without a word. It seems many people have been leaving without letting anyone know. It’s very mysterious.

  Bremen seems like a pretty close-knit community. Many people have expressed their condolences to me over Nan. It’s a comfort that she was well-known and well-liked. Of course, Rose’s store provided all the floral arrangements for her funeral.

  Firn’s face ducks down and breaks my daze.

  “Sorry, Firn. I spaced out for a sec.” Shaking my head at myself, I grab the paper with the order on it.

  “It’s
okay, girl. I tend to do that too when I’m reading.” She gives me a smile and flounces off. I read the order form. Apparently, it’s for a new hotshot lawyer that just landed in town. At least, that’s what it says on the note: Congrats on your new firm. Welcome back home! The address is for Max Wolf & Associates, Partners at Law. I shrug and head to the front of the store where the arrangement will be waiting for me to deliver.

  Chapter 2

  Paul

  My bear is antsy as I bask in the sun’s rays. He’s been edging to the surface and wanting to track down our mate but it’s been difficult for him. He’s lain dormant all these years since she left. I haven’t been able to shift once. It does something to a shifter when they’re not able to be with their mate. A deep depression resides within me and for a while I felt like I might’ve lost my bear entirely. He must’ve known she was coming back. I sensed her at the funeral, hopeful she was coming back to return. Then, she left again before I could even approach her. She was so grief-stricken, I could almost feel the sadness radiating off her. I’m more attuned to her feelings and moods because I’m her mate. All I wanted to do was go to her, comfort her in her time of need. Then, she came back.

  When I first smelled her sweet scent, I could hardly believe she was truly here. I thought my senses were playing tricks on me. My bear knew better. I haven’t seen Scarlett in almost a decade. We were so young when we fell in love that one summer, but I knew even then she was mine. She must’ve been only fifteen. I was about to turn eighteen.