Peterman_SwitchHour_Gen_Nov2015

by Robyn Peterman

  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)

  ###

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: If you enjoyed this ebook, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by distributors and resellers, and help new readers make decisions about reading them. You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate you!

  Many thanks for your support,

  ~ Robyn Peterman

  Visit me on my website at http://www.robynpeterman.com.

  Excerpt from WITCH GLITCH

  Book 2 in the Magic and Mayhem Series

  Don’t miss the next installment in this bewitching series!

  Chapter 1

  "What in the hell does that asswaffle think he's doing?" I snapped as I narrowed my eyes at the scene unfolding on the beautiful front lawn of my newly inherited house.

  Crawling up onto the window seat I pressed my face against the glass to make sure I was seeing things correctly… unfortunately, I was.

  Chuck the ginormous bear Shifter had concocted a noose and was trying to hang himself in a large tree. This was not going to happen in my yard. Dead stuff smelled horrific and I had an over active gag reflex as did most witches I knew.

  Opening the widow with a pissed off blast of magic, I leaned out and prepared to zap his idiot ass. As the newly minted town Shifter Whisperer—or Shifter Wanker as I liked to refer to my honorary title—I wasn't about to heal a self-inflicted broken neck.

  "Chuck, what in the Goddess' name do you think you're doing?" I shouted.

  He fell off the ladder he was standing on and plopped ungracefully to the ground with a thud.

  "Well, I was trying to hang myself until you scared the bejesus out of me," he explained logically, as if what he was doing was even remotely logical.

  "Well, ok, but you're going to have to take your freak show to someone else's tree. I have a lot of shit to do today and watching you die is not on my list."

  "But I have to do it here," he informed me as he ambled up to the porch.

  "I am about to ask a question I have no desire to know the answer to—why?"

  Shifters were the weirdest species ever. I had always thought witches were nuts. We had nothing on the Shifters.

  "I can't tell you," he mumbled into his shoulder.

  He was a beautiful and kind man… and I liked him, which annoyed me. I was getting far too attached to the oddballs in Assjacket, West Virginia. I had chosen to stay after I had paid my penance to the Witch Council, but if these dorks were going to pull stunts like hanging themselves in my trees… I was out of here.

  "I call bullshit," I snapped. "You can't just off yourself in someone's silver oak and not tell them why. It's rude."

  "I'm sorry, Zelda," Chuck apologized as he rocked back and forth in embarrassment. "If I could tell you I would. I just can't break the rules. I could end up naked and wedged in a time warp with elevator music."

  "You lost me."

  I reconsidered zapping his ass just for making my brain work too hard at 8 o’clock in the morning.

  "It's no big deal. I can try again another time when you're out shopping. I'll just be on my way now," he said with a smile.

  I really wanted to shut the window and pretend I hadn't just seen the dumbass try to end his life, but my newly found conscience wasn't on the same page. Biting down hard on my tongue, I attempted to keep my words from flying out of my mouth. But no fucking go.

  Apparently speak first and think later was my new motto.

  Damn it.

  "Chuck, um… emotions and being nice are not really my thing, but I'm feeling kind of wonky here. Are you depressed? Can I heal that?" I asked as I also mentally slapped myself for caring.

  "Actually, I'm not down at all," he replied with a shrug and a happy little grunt. "I'm quite content, but thank you for your concern."

  "Ooookay then… you should probably take the ladder and rope with you when you leave." I mumbled my statement not quite sure what was socially acceptable to say in a situation like this.

  "Can I just leave them here for next time?"

  "Um, no. You can't."

  "Alrighty," he said as he gathered up his death tools and loaded them into his truck. "Oh, and by the way, when I do bite it, I'd like you to have my truck."

  "Really?" I squealed with excitement… and then purposely banged my head against the windowsill.

  It was a kick ass truck, but I'd rather win it in a poker game than inherit it due to his death.

  "Absolutely not," I hissed to cover my wildly inappropriate reaction. "You are not going to die, Chuck. I will kill you if you do."

  "Would you?" he asked hopefully.

  "Would I what?" I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

  "Kill me?"

  "Holy shitballs, I wasn't serious," I shouted, waving a hand to the sky. "I'm the freakin' Shifter Wanker. I heal you furry jackasses, not kill you."

  "Oh. Right," he said with a nod and a grin. "My bad."

  "I should say so," I muttered as I closed the window and flopped down on the cushy couch. This day was going to be a long one… I could feel it in my bones.

  "Zelda?" a loud voice boomed from the kitchen. "Do you want French toast or pancakes?"

  I heaved a put upon sigh and stood up. "French toast would be a nice change, Naked Dude. And where are all the groceries coming from? Are you using bad credit cards again?"

  "I really wish you would call me Dad," Naked Dude said as he stuck his head out from the kitchen. "I'm not naked you know."

  He was correct. He wasn't naked. However, he had been buck-ass naked when I made his acquaintance only a few weeks before. It had been traumatic and repulsive. No one should have to see their father's nads. Ever.

  Not to mention he'd been my ball-licking cat for two years…

  As the story goes, Naked Dude never knew about me. When he found out he had a daughter, he tried to contact me. That was when my not so motherly mother put a spell on him which turned him into a mangy cat. That mangy cat had become my familiar much to my disgust. The spell could only be broken if he gained my love.

  Of course it took him almost dying for me to admit I loved him, but now we were trying to get to know each other. It was challenging and somewhat amazing… not that I would admit that to him. I'd lived all my life up to that point believing he didn't want me. At least that was what my mother had told me. The relief I felt when I learned he never knew about me was absurd so I mostly ignored it.

  Admittedly, I wasn't good at maintaining relationships, but I was going to try with him.

  "Look, I could drop the Naked and just call you Dude. Would that help?" I bargained.

  His grin was infectious and his sparkling green eyes matched my own. "It's a start."

  "Maybe I could call you Fabio. That is your name."

  I sat down and dug into the food. I'd broach the bad credit card issue after my stomach was full.

  "I'd really like you to try Dad," he suggested, as he added two more pieces of French toast to my plate.

  Thank the Goddess witches had crazy fast metabolism or I'd be the size of a house. Eating was my favorite hobby and Naked Dude could cook.

  "And I'd really like the Prada bag that isn't out yet," I shot back.

  "Not a problem," Naked Dude slash Fabio slash Dad said with a sly grin on his ridiculously handsome face.

  My dad, for lack of a better word, liked to buy slash steal me designer duds
and accessories. This was a bad thing. I knew it was a bad thing. It was a terrible bad illegal thing. However, his logic that he also used his questionable credit cards to give tens of thousands to charity made me feel a little better about keeping my dubious booty.

  "You can do that?" I asked as I poured an obscene amount of syrup on the mountain of French toast.

  "I can transport to Milan, buy the bag and be back in an hour or two," he told me as he took the sugary goo from my hands before I could drain the bottle.

  "Buy being the operative word…"

  "Of course," he replied with an innocent look that probably worked on most people.

  "But I would have to call you Dad…"

  "That's the deal."

  I considered it. I'm ashamed to say I really did.

  "I'm not there yet, Naked Dude… I mean Dude. As much as it pains me to say no to the bag—and it does pain me—I'm just not ready to take that step."

  "I understand," he said as he lovingly tucked some of the wild red locks that mirrored his behind my ear. "I'll just get the bag and keep it in my closet until you're ready."

  "That's unacceptable not to mention blackmail," I said as I slapped his hand away and tried to bite back my giggle. "You totally suck."

  "I know." He gave me a lopsided grin and transported to Milan in a cloud of silver smoke.

  "What a dick," I mumbled to no one since I was finally alone.

  My year had been an interesting one. I'd spent nine months in the magic pokey for killing my cat who miraculously rose from the dead and turned out to be my father.

  To be fair to me, it had been an accident. When I heard the first crunch, I'd freaked out so much that I hit reverse and drive a few consecutive times before I got out of my car and screamed bloody murder. I buried him in a new Prada shoebox and left the super soft shoe bags inside as a blanket and a pillow. After Naked Dude's resurrection, he'd complimented me on his cozy coffin.

  Of course, it didn't matter to Baba Yaga, the most powerful and horrendously dressed witch in existence. She didn’t care that it had been an accident or that my cat slash dad had actually lived.

  Baba Yaga made me serve time with a heinous cellmate named Sassy The Violent Witch From Hell… as I enjoyed referring to her. Not that Sassy enjoyed it so much, but annoying her had helped pass the time.

  When released, I found a dead aunt I never knew had left me her house. My mission ended up being avenging her, taking over her job as the Shifter Whisper and maintaining the magical balance in Assjacket, West Virginia. I had no clue what Sassy's mission had been. Frankly, I was just delighted to be rid of her.

  Yes, it hurt like a mother fucker to heal the random wounds of all the idiot Shifters in town, but secretly I kind of liked my new job—not the pain—the job. I'd never stayed anywhere very long and had few friends to show for it. Sassy The Violent Witch From Hell did not count.

  Belonging somewhere was new to me and it felt nice. However, I refused to get used to it. I was a survivor and had gone most of my life as a loner. Less messy that way.

  I suppose the best thing about being in Assjacket was Mac. The redonkulously hot wolf Shifter who mistakenly believed I was his mate…

  Speaking of hot asses, broad shoulders and outstanding lip locking, I had a lunch date with the hot wolf this very afternoon.

  Maybe today wouldn't turn out as badly as it had begun.

  Chapter 2

  "How do I look?" I asked Naked Dude, as I twirled around in my rockin' Alice and Olivia mini dress with my hot pink combat boots and cashmere shrug.

  "Nice… I suppose," he replied cautiously.

  Naked Dude was never one to hold back an opinion and his reticence pissed me off. He'd been back from Milan for an hour and it took everything I had not to ransack his closet for the Prada bag.

  "Suppose?" I asked with narrowed eyes as green sparks began fly from my fingertips.

  "It's not the outfit." He sighed dramatically, yet backed away from the impending fireworks. "It's the company you're keeping."

  "I thought you approved of Mac."

  "He's tolerable for a wolf, but it really would be wonderful if you'd meet a nice stable warlock and settle down. You could have a few witch babies and make me a grandwarlock," he explained as he handed me a fork and a bowl of raw cookie dough to snack on.

  "This is exactly why I can't call you Dad," I informed him around a mouthful. "You're delusional. There is no such thing as a nice stable warlock. You are the most stable warlock I have ever met and you're certifiable."

  "Thank you… I think."

  "It wasn't a compliment, Na… Dudio. And let me just add that know I am no prize."

  "Of course you are," he interrupted. "You're beautiful, smart, powerful, compassionate, kind, and you're a wonderful eater."

  "Haven’t you been living here?" I shouted. "Sure I might be hot and powerful… and yes, I can eat like a horse… but I am not kind or compassionate. I have never maintained any sort of relationship in my entire life so I’m grateful Mac still likes me. His ass is outstanding."

  My father heaved a huge sigh and pilfered some of the pre-lunch cookie dough. I considered stabbing his hand with my fork but that seemed like a little much. I settled for flicking some dough at his forehead.

  "Zelda, you sell yourself short," he said as he absently wiped the goop away and licked it from his fingers.

  "Oh my Goddess, you just put my spit in your mouth." I shuddered and scrunched my face in disgust.

  "Not following you," Dude said in confusion.

  "You ate the dough off of your face."

  "Yes. And?"

  "It came from the fork—which by the way was a weird utensil to hand me to eat dough—that had been in my mouth. Therefore, it stands to reason that some of my saliva was on the fork and most likely the dough that you just ate," I explained.

  "So?"

  "So… you just swallowed my spit, Dude. That's gross."

  "Zelda, I missed your entire growing up. I never changed your diaper, got spit up on or vomited on by you. I think I'm due a little spit here and there," he said with a wink and a shrug.

  I was silent as I shoved more cookie dough in my mouth and wondered why I felt like crying. Naked Dude sat silently and watched.

  In my weirdly magnanimous mood, I offered him some dough off my saliva fork and he gratefully accepted. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the sugar and spit. Dropping my head into my hands, I groaned.

  "You're not playing fair. All that stuff about poop and pee and puke is kind of beautifully horrifying," I mumbled through my fingers.

  "I know. I'm good that way," Dude said with a gentle smile. "I missed a lot, Zelda. I can't make up for not being there for you, and I can't say I want to slurp spit on a regular basis, but I would die for you. I fell in love with you the very first day you found me in the dumpster."

  "You were kind of hard to avoid," I said as I remembered trying like hell to keep walking past the pitiful mewing on that fated day.

  For some unknown reason I had stopped and peeked. He was the most mangy and stinky little fur ball of a cat I'd ever seen. I was repulsed by him, but shockingly it didn't stop me from saving his feline ass.

  Of course, I have regretted it daily during the two years he followed me around like a deranged shadow and drove me nuts. But now it at least made more sense. I suppose I'd seen myself in the odiferous dumpster diver… starved for affection and totally alone.

  Introspective though was not my forte, so I shoved that profound little nugget to the recesses of my brain. This getting to know you crap was becoming messy. I didn't do messy. However, there were some things I wanted to know.

  "Did you love my mom?" I asked.

  It was a question I'd always pondered. My mom was not very lovable. I loved her—kind of. It was more of a perfunctory thing. All creatures were supposed to love their mothers. However, if the mother didn't love the creature back it became an exercise in futility and a need for therapy as an ad
ult.

  Naked Dude put his elbows on the table and put his chin on his palms as he clearly fought for a way to tell me he didn't love her. The thought depressed me, but I expected no less.

  "I thought I did," he said quietly. "I didn't know her very well when we started seeing each other."

  "You mean screwing each other," I supplied.

  No time or need to mince words here.

  "Well...um, yes. That would be one way to put it."

  "So you did her and left?"

  "Not exactly," he hedged. "I honestly didn't know her name the first several times."

  I gaped in horror. "You're a total man whore."

  "Was," he corrected. "I was a total man whore. Now I'm simply a warlock who misses licking his balls."

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. The visual he'd just conjured up threatened the contents of my stomach. When he'd been my cat he had an unhealthy obsession with cleaning his nut sack. Clearly it was still an issue.

  "Alright, let's get back on track here," I muttered. "You nailed her a few times. She got pregnant and you left?"

  "Nope."

  "Enlighten me," I snapped.

  As much as I wanted to keep the past in the past… I also needed to know.

  "Apparently I wasn't the only one nailing her. I left when I found out I was just one of many," he supplied with a shrug.

  "How many?"

  "You really want to know?" he asked with a grimace.

  "Do I?"

  "I'd say no."

  "Oh fuck, now I have to know. Let me guess. Tell me if I'm hot or cold," I said. "Four."

  "Frigid."

  "Eight?"

  "Very cold."

  "Holy shit… um, twelve?"

  "Shivering."

  "Mother fucker… pun intended… twenty five?"

  "Cool-ish."

  He was correct. I really didn't want to know, but I'd come this far. I wasn't a quitter. And apparently neither was my mother.