by Zoe Chant
Every towel had been pulled off of every towel rack, including the hand towels by the sink. The washcloth was in the toilet with the flailing kitten. Every bottle on the counter had been tipped over. Most of the lids had proven true, but a few of them were leaking sweet-smelling fluids over and off the counter.
And the entire bathroom was ankle-deep in shredded toilet paper.
The kittens had not only peeled off the roll by the toilet, but also had found and opened the storage cabinet. The plastic had been rent into crinkly shards, and the tubes of a dozen rolls were strewn like the bones of the enemy through the snow of toilet paper clumps that covered the floor.
Scarlet waded through it and pulled the cream kitten out of the toilet by the ruff of its wet neck. She added to its indignity by rinsing it off in the sink, then bent and gathered up a towel to wrap it in, scolding it as she went. “You are a little idiot,” she said, as the other meowed and tried to crawl up her leg to join the fun.
“I am not a cat tree,” Scarlet said, pushing her gently off.
After the third time Scarlet nearly tripped trying to dislodge the gray kitten from her leg, she scooped the persistent beast into her arms and simply toweled them both together, to purrs of delight.
They seemed to consider it a game, squirming and trying to capture the towel with their sharp little teeth and clever claws. Scarlet caught herself smiling as she tousled them in the towel, rolling them over and rubbing them down.
Not entirely dry, but at least no longer spiky-wet, Scarlet put the cream kitten down with her sister. “I’ve got work to do,” she told them regretfully.
The cream kitten meowed pitifully. The gray kitten purred. They both look up at her expectantly.
“I’m going to get back to my work now,” Scarlet said firmly.
The cream kitten yowled more demandingly, more than a hint of her Siamese ancestors in her voice.
Scarlet stared back at it. “I can’t just play with you all night,” she protested.
It meowed again, danced forward, and swiped Scarlet with its paw, all claws retracted.
“You are a little tyrant,” Scarlet scolded. It occurred to her that they might be hungry, and she went to the box with their food.
They tried to mob her, constantly underfoot as she found their dishes and peeled open the fragrant can of food. The Siamese mix tried to swarm up her side while she was spooning it out, and the gray and white kitten sweetly made little purring hiccups of joy and anticipation as it patiently sat beside the bowl.
Scarlet gave up working in favor of watching them eat, chuckling helplessly over their clumsy efforts to stuff themselves and nearly drown in their water dish.
Finally, they slowed, and left their dishes to stagger to Scarlet and beg their way up into her arms.
She could not have explained how she arrived in the position, but only a few moments later, the gray one was in her lap, limply covering more space than something so small ought to be capable of. A snoring purr occasionally vibrated through her tiny body. The cream colored one had crawled up further, and was unconscious in a warm curve around Scarlet’s neck.
The only work that Scarlet could reach without disturbing them was the mysterious envelope containing Gizelle’s unhappy history.
Scarlet sighed, stroking the gray kitten absently. Gizelle’s kitten, she reminded herself. They were Gizelle’s kittens.
Gizelle.
Gizelle... was complicated.
Scarlet tipped her head against the back of her chair and, now that the rush of her anger had ebbed away, tried to untangle the conflicting emotions that had been dredged up by the paperwork.
Gizelle reminded Scarlet keenly of herself, if circumstances had been only a little different. She could remember herself too easily in Gizelle’s confused place, new to a world of human rules and baffling customs. Scarlet had been lucky enough to have powerful and charitable friends, patient enough to teach her the skills she lacked and generous enough to give her a place and purpose.
But it wasn’t just empathy for Gizelle’s social awkwardness than made Scarlet feel protective of the young woman.
It felt like her fault that Gizelle had been in Beehag’s zoo.
“No,” she protested out loud. “It wasn’t my fault.”
The cream kitten stirred at the sound of her voice and put a paw out to the side of her face, patting her twice and then curling tighter into the side of her neck.
Scarlet couldn’t have known about the zoo that Gizelle had been caged in for so much of her life. And if she had, she was under a binding contract not to trespass there.
But she could not convince herself that she couldn’t have guessed, couldn’t have done something to put a stop to it. Beehag had stolen shifters right out from underneath her nose, from her resort. She should have protected them. Should have...
The gray kitten gave a sleepy mrrrr of protest and Scarlet realized she was petting it too roughly. She gentled her hand and the kitten slowly rolled over, exposing her fluffy white tummy.
They trusted her, she thought with a sigh of bittersweet regret. She wasn’t sure if they should. She wasn’t sure anyone should.
She reached for the letter that had been at the front of Gizelle’s packet of secrets, careful not to jostle the kitten sleeping precariously on her shoulder.
It was a terribly convincing letter.
The director of the facility made a compelling argument for Gizelle needing special care. He mentioned her specific challenges with surprising accuracy and proposed methods of treatment that sounded, on the surface, logical and completely humane. He mentioned safe space to run multiple times, and with polite obliqueness pointed out that although Scarlet had the best of intentions, she might not be the person most suited to help Gizelle.
If she had received the letter two weeks prior, Scarlet would have had a hard choice before her. She would have agonized over the truths in the letter, and questioned her own competency. Knowing what someone was going through didn’t make her an expert in helping them get through it.
But Conall was here now, and Gizelle’s mate had changed everything.
When she was being honest with herself, Scarlet was not sure which of the two she was more envious of. She was glad, of course, that Conall’s patience and love had won Gizelle’s trust and her heart, and the young woman had bloomed in his care.
But a small, shallow part of her still wanted to be the person the timid gazelle shifter needed most.
And she’d have to be dead inside not to want someone like Conall; he was that gorgeous broody type who made women weak in the knees with a careless glance.
Scarlet sighed.
She was definitely not dead inside. And it wasn’t really that she wanted Conall, just that she wanted what Gizelle had in Conall.
“Don’t you want a mate?” Gizelle had asked her, so innocently.
Scarlet had not had an answer for her.
She wasn’t a naive romantic, waiting around for true love to sweep her off her feet, but she would have liked having a man in her life. Not one that got in the way of running the resort of course, but it had been a long time since she had shared her bed, and it was sometimes so lonely and unappealing that she skipped sleeping altogether.
She wanted a hard body to slide up again, a mouth to kiss, strong arms to hold her, clever fingers to — Scarlet stopped her train of thought firmly.
It wasn’t like she was going to hook up with a guest, and sleeping with the staff was a level of unprofessional beyond even that, which left... no one. She was on an island she couldn’t leave with people who were off limits and if she wanted—if she desperately craved—anything more, she was at least practiced at ignoring her own desires.
She glanced at the kitten in her lap. She wasn’t even going to be able to pleasure herself without disturbing her newest unpaying guests.
She smiled despite herself. It wasn’t worth doing that.
She reached carefully to put Gizelle’s paperwork back
on the desk without jostling the kitten on her shoulder, then reached up to scratch her gently, just enough to start her purring faintly near her ear.
Then she settled back in her chair more comfortably and closed her eyes.
She would give all the information to Gizelle, but mention the mental hospital privately to only Conall, without endorsement. Shifting Sands was the best place for the shy gazelle shifter, even if Scarlet was no longer who she needed most.
And if Scarlet had unanswered hungers of her own, it was nothing she hadn’t already spent decades avoiding.
Such desires were simply part of who she was... part of what she was.
She drifted to sleep with a muted purr near her ear, and dreamed of cooling rains and sunkissed somedays.
More Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant
Dancing Bearfoot. (Green Valley Shifters #1). A single dad from the city + his daughter's curvy teacher + a surprise snow storm = a steamy story that will melt your heart. (Read on for a sneak preview!)
A Mate for the Dragon. (Lost Dragons #1) A curvy woman with a broken heart + a hot dragon shifter with a haunted past + a deadly clan of evil dragons = one sizzling and suspenseful romance!
Bodyguard Bear. (Protection, Inc. #1). A curvy witness to a murder + the sexy bear shifter bodyguard sworn to protect her with his life + firefights and fiery passion = one hot thrill ride!
Bearista. (Bodyguard Shifters #1). A tough bear shifter bodyguard undercover in a coffee shop + a curvy barista with an adorable 5-year-old + a deadly shifter assassin = a scorching thrill ride of a romance!
Firefighter Dragon. (Fire & Rescue Shifters #1). A curvy archaeologist with the find of a lifetime + a firefighter dragon shifter battling his instincts + a priceless artifact coveted by a ruthless rival = one blazing hot romance!
The Christmas Dragon’s Mate. (Christmas Valley Shifters #1). A lonely bookkeeper in search of Christmas + a mysterious dragon shifter with a past full of pain + a beautiful snow castle hiding a ruthless enemy = one glittering Christmas romance!
Mated to the Storm Dragon. (Elemental Mates #1). A curvy artist down on her luck + a dragon shifter running out of time + a powerful enemy with an ancient grudge = a romance as hot as dragon fire!
Royal Guard Lion. (Shifter Kingdom #1). A curvy American shocked to learn that she's a lost princess + a warrior lion shifter sworn to protect her + a hidden shifter kingdom in desperate need of a leader = a sizzling romance fit for a queen!
Zoe on Audio
Dancing Bearfoot – Audiobook - A single dad from the city + his daughter's BBW teacher + a surprise snow storm = a steamy story that will melt your heart.
Kodiak Moment – Audiobook - A workaholic wildlife photographer + a loner bear shifter + Alaskan wilderness = one warming and sensual story.
Hero Bear - Audiobook - A wounded Marine who lost his bear + a BBW physical therapist with a secret + a small town full of gossips = a hot and healing romance!
Zoe Chant, writing under other names
Rails, by Elva Birch. Bai knows better than to dream about his gorgeous Head of Files, Ressa, but when they become pawns in a mad conspiracy, they have nowhere to turn but to each other. A dark, tangled tale of murder, sex, unrequited love, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, and betrayal, set in a world steeped in flavors of steampunk and fantasy.
Laura’s Wolf (Werewolf Marines # 1), by Lia Silver. Werewolf Marine Roy Farrell, scarred in body and mind, thinks he has no future. Curvy con artist Laura Kaplan, running from danger and her own guilt, is desperate to escape her past. Together, they have all that they need to heal. A full-length novel.
Mated to the Meerkat, by Lia Silver. Jasmine Jones, a curvy tabloid reporter, meets her match in notorious paparazzi and secret meerkat Chance Marcotte. A romantic comedy novelette.
Handcuffed to the Bear (Shifter Agents # 1), by Lauren Esker. A bear-shifter ex-mercenary and a curvy lynx shifter searching for her best friend's killer are handcuffed together and hunted in the wilderness. Can they learn to rely on each other before their pasts, and their pursuers, catch up with them? A full-length novel.
Keeping Her Pride (Ladies of the Pack # 1), by Lauren Esker. Down-and-out lioness shifter Debi Fallon never meant to fall in love with a human. Sexy architect and single dad Fletcher Briggs has his hands full with his adorable 4-year-old... who turns into a tiny, deadly snake. Can two ambitious people overcome their pride and prejudice enough to realize the only thing missing from their lives is each other?
Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, by Lauren Esker. Curvy farm girl Julie Capshaw was warned away from the wolf shifters next door, but Damon Wolfe is the motorcycle-riding, smoking hot alpha of her dreams. Can the big bad wolf and his sheep shifter find their own happy ending? A full-length novel.
The Christmas Tree Bear, by Rosie Lynne. Bear shifter Willis Barnett meets his fated match in Charlotte Caldwell when she hopes to earn extra money as Santa Helper’s on Willis’ family farm turned Christmas Tree Town for the holidays. A romantic comedy novella.
Taming the Beast, by Honey Dover. Beauty is a paranormal investigator hired to deal with a man cursed to become a monstrous beast. Helping him recover his humanity will change her life. A novelette.
Claimed by the Wolf, by Candi Jackson. Zenobia Jones ends up pregnant after a night with a billionaire—and lands herself in a war between werewolf packs. A full-length novel.
The Right Bear's Arms, by Nora Eli. After a sizzling one night stand with bear shifter Jake, curvy Katie realizes her perfect man is everything she's tried to avoid. If they can both stop running from their pasts, they may find a destined future together. A novelette.
Discovering the Dragon, by Sofia Stone. When reporter Chloe Martin investigates Lancaster Gold, she finds herself tangled up with the oldest son—Isaac Lancaster, billionaire dragon shifter. A novelette.
Sneak Preview: Dancing Bearfoot
Green Valley Shifters #1
LEE LAY AWAKE FOR A long moment without opening his eyes, not ready to be awake, and not sure why he was.
"Someone is watching us," his bear supplied, wary and grouchy.
Lee opened his eyes at last, and found the cause of his uneasy feeling staring at him across the empty spread of bed. Blue eyes that matched his own were framed with white-blonde curls that were nothing like his own dark locks.
"I start preschool today," Clara told him, matter-of-factly. "I dressed myself. But I couldn't tie my shoes." The offending shoes, a worn pair of sneakers with pink cartoon bears, were laying on the bed between them. The knotted laces showed her efforts.
Lee groaned, and looked at the clock on the bedside table. "It's five in the morning," he explained.
"I don't want to be late."
Lee refrained from trying to explain details about time to a four-year-old, and resigned himself to getting up. He snagged a pair of pants from a moving box and padded barefoot across the thick carpet to sweep Clara up and toss her effortlessly onto the wide bed while he got dressed.
She giggled and tumbled, then sat up seriously. "Will my new teacher like me?" she asked anxiously.
"You don't need to worry about that, cub!" Lee was quick to assure her. "You're going to have a great time. Aunt Bella says it's the best school in the whole town."
Like the concept of time, it was pointless to add that the entire town was only thirteen hundred people strong, and there had not been a choice at all. If the preschool did not work out, he could pack them back up and move them to another town, but Lee was weary of moving, and tired of cities. He already loved the house they had found, and the quaint little town of Green Valley. His bear loved the wilderness that was only a short wander out his backdoor. If the preschool didn't work out, maybe he would just hire another nanny and keep Clara home. He was suddenly hopeful that his daughter wouldn't get along with the teacher.
"Would you like a special breakfast?" he offered, to distract her. "You can help me wash dishes, afterward."
Clara's face lit up. "Yes! Pancakes! With blueberri
es! Can I make the bubbles for the dishes?"
Lee helped Clara off the bed and took her little hand in his own. "Pancakes it is. And you can make all the bubbles, because it's your first day of preschool." He wondered when she would grow up enough to realize that washing dishes wasn't really the treat he made it out to be.
He was still looking for a reason not to like the preschool as he drove the beater company truck he had borrowed from his construction company up to the quaint little house. Despite his efforts, and Clara's insanely early wake-up, they were still running late. It had started to snow, and he didn't want to push the truck too fast on the slushy streets. It had also, somehow, taken twenty minutes to get Clara into her winter coat and out the door, despite her eagerness to go.
He unstrapped Clara from her carseat and followed her with growing reluctance up the snowy steps. He wondered if he should have insisted she wear her winter boots, rather than the pink bear tennis shoes, but she scampered up and was pushing open the door before the snow had a chance to stick to her legs.
The door opened to a tiny Arctic entryway. Clara would have pushed further on, but Lee noticed the rack of coats and stopped her. "Here, honey, let's take off your coat."
She squirmed and fussed while he unzipped her and hung her coat on an empty hook.
It was warm, noisy chaos behind the second door. Children laughed and played at activity stations around the room, and someone was playing a cheerful song on a slightly tinny upright piano. As the musician, unseen, ended with a flourish, some of the children clapped in delight.
He wasn't ready. He'd been a fool to think he could do this–to leave Clara with some stranger for so many hours? He would just tell the old woman that he'd made a mistake, that Clara would be too anxious, that... he cast about in his mind for some excuse. That he'd forgotten her lunch? He settled a scowl on his face; that was often enough to send weak-willed people running, and maybe she wouldn't ask why he was withdrawing Clara from her class.