Don’t Stop Bewitching_A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  Don’t Stop Bewitching

  A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel

  Mandy M. Roth

  Don’t Stop Bewitching © Copyright 2018 by Mandy M. Roth

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Mandy M. Roth.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

  * * *

  Published by Raven Happy Hour LLC

  www.RavenHappyHour.com

  Raven Books and all affiliate sites and projects are © Copyrighted 2004-2018

  Contents

  Featured Titles from Mandy M. Roth

  FAQs

  Blurb

  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

  Excerpt: Once Hunted, Twice Shy

  About the Author

  Featured Titles from Mandy M. Roth

  The Immortal Ops Series World

  Immortal Ops

  Critical Intelligence

  Radar Deception

  Strategic Vulnerability

  Tactical Magik

  Act of Mercy

  Administrative Control

  Act of Surrender

  Broken Communication

  Separation Zone

  Act of Submission

  Damage Report

  Act of Command

  Wolf’s Surrender

  The Dragon Shifter’s Duty

  Midnight Echoes

  Isolated Maneuver

  Expecting Darkness

  Area of Influence

  Act of Passion

  Act of Brotherhood

  Healing the Wolf

  Wrecked Intel

  And more to come…

  * * *

  Cozy Paranormal Mysteries

  Once Hunted, Twice Shy

  Total Eclipse of the Hunt

  And more to come…

  * * *

  Tempting Fate Series

  Loup Garou

  Bad Moon Rising

  And more to come…

  * * *

  The Guardians Series

  The Guardians

  Crossing Hudson

  Ruling Jude

  And more to come…

  * * *

  The Druid Series

  Sacred Places

  Goddess of the Grove

  Winter Solstice

  A Druid of Her Own

  And more to come…

  * * *

  The King of Prey Series

  King of Prey

  A View to a Kill

  Master of the Hunt

  Rise of the King

  Prince of Pleasure

  Prince of Flight

  * * *

  Bureau of Paranormal Investigation (BPI)

  Hunted Holiday

  Heated Holiday

  And more to come…

  FAQs

  Q: What other characters will Mandy be writing about from the Everlasting/ Bewitchingly Ever After worlds?

  A: The ones she created: Leo, Sigmund, Petey, Wilber, Jolene, the devil, York, Louis, Blackbeard, etc. These books will be part of Mandy's spin-off series from Happily Everlasting--Bewitchingly Ever After.

  Q: Will Mandy write other cozies that are not part of the Everlasting world?

  A: Yes. She's working on a few series right now and will notify her mailing list when more information becomes available.

  Q: What series are related to Bewitchingly Ever After?

  A: The Happily Everlasting Series

  Blurb

  Don’t Stop Bewitching: A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel (Bewitchingly Ever After)

  by

  Mandy M. Roth

  * * *

  Welcome to Hedgewitch Cove, Louisiana, where there's no such thing as normal.

  town

  Cat-shifter Curt Warrick doesn't want to take a road trip with five other guys but when his best friend leaves him no choice, he finds himself in a van, stuffed full of men, headed to Louisiana. It should come as no surprise when everything that could go wrong on the trip does. That’s okay though, Curt is used to the weird and wacky, after all, he was born and raised in a town that is the epitome of it all. There is a bright side. The trip will give him a chance to expand his enterprise.

  * * *

  There is nothing Missi (Mississippi) Peugeot hates more than rich men who think they can throw money around to get what they want. Okay, that’s a lie. She hates change. That’s why she’s happy to stay in her tiny hometown of Hedgewitch Cove, Louisiana. Protected by magic, the town has kept its quaint, cozy feel—that is until a flashy, yet fetching, stranger shows up in a van that screams “flower power,” announcing he’s looking to buy property and begin developing the town. Missi’s grandmother always warned her that her words had consequences. When she speaks out of anger, the magic in her rises to the challenge, putting a curse on Curt. Not that the man needed any help in the cursed department, seeing as how he already has a spell of chaos cast over him. By who, they don’t know.

  * * *

  Now Missi just has to keep Mr. Flashy alive long enough to get him back up north where he belongs before her words come back to haunt him. There is only one slight hiccup with her plan: every second she tries to keep mishap from befalling Curt leaves her one step closer to wanting him to stay.

  Chapter One

  Curt Warrick stood next to his best friend since childhood, staring at the brightly colored monstrosity before them. They’d been doing so for the greater part of fifteen minutes, as they ignored the heat this time of year, each trying to soak in what they were looking at. While Curt understood it was a Volkswagen van, his mind was having a hard time wrapping itself around the idea that anyone would ever get in it, let alone pick it for a long road trip. Yet there it was, parked on Main Street, in front of Hunted Treasures Antiques & Artifacts Shop. “I’m not sure it’s road worthy.”

  Hugh Lupine, Curt’s best friend and fellow shifter, crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m positive it’s not road worthy. No way are we getting in that. It’s a death trap. I’m not biting the big one by way of flower power. I’ve got a baby due soon. I plan to be alive for its arrival. I changed my mind about the charter jet. Make the call, Warrick.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Nodding, Curt withdrew his cell phone from his back pocket and ignored the sweat beading on his spine from the heat. As a shifter male, his core body temperature ran hotter than a human’s. The addition of humid summer weather didn’t help matters any.

  Curt dropped his phone before he actually made any call or booked anything, and the phone just missed landing in a puddle, left over from the storms that had passed through overnight. With a groan, he retrieved it.

  He’d done very well for himself and invested wisely. Having a private jet ready for them to depart on within the next two hours wasn’t a hardship by any means. He’d done so numerous times before. When he’d learned of some prime commercial property that might be up for grabs in the town where they were headed to, he’d looked into and had nearly
booked a jet then and there. He was now regretting his choice to wait.

  “Don’t book a plane, Curt. It will be fun for you guys to have a road trip. It will give you so many great memories together. Plus, when you get down there, you can check on Sig and see how he’s doing. And I think the van is pretty,” said Penelope, Hugh’s wife.

  She was wearing a pair of leggings with small wolf heads all over them, a bright blue maternity shirt with the same wolf-head print all over it, and a hat (that was for winter but it was hotter than heck out) that looked like someone knitted wolf ears on it with a pair of dangly earrings that were little red and white lighthouses. Curt wasn’t so sure they should let her have a vote on anything, let alone the vehicle that would need to take them over a thousand miles.

  When Penelope’s paternal grandfather, Wilber Messing, announced he needed to travel to Hedgewitch Cove, Louisiana, to deliver a special package (which totally meant supernatural artifacts), one that couldn’t be sent by normal means, Penelope and her new best friend Kelsey had gotten it in their heads that the trip should include a number of men. Not just Wilber. The girls firmly believed it would be a manly road trip, full of fun and comradery.

  It was as if the women didn’t know a single one of the men they’d wrangled into going.

  The varying personalities they’d assembled would clash within a mile from town. If that. Making it over a thousand miles together would never work. They’d be lucky to make it down Main Street before someone ended up killing someone else. Curt’s money was on Wilber killing Hugh. Wilber might have been up there in years, but the man was a natural-born hunter and spry. It was in his blood to eliminate supernaturals.

  Curt hoped that was true or they’d all be listed as missing persons very soon.

  Showing up in Hedgewitch Cove minus a few passengers was a real concern when everyone involved in the road trip was either a card-carrying member of the supernatural club or a born hunter. The two were already oil and water. Hunters weren’t technically classified as supernaturals even though they were. They’d refused to allow themselves to be listed in the books on the paranormal as supernaturals. They were elitists who fancied themselves a cut above all those they were born to police and, like their name suggested, hunt.

  They’d had a number of names over the centuries—slayers, hunters, exorcists, etc. Under it all they were a bunch of people who looked down their noses at the supernatural. Depending on the hunter, they might or might not simply kill every supernatural they encountered.

  Hunters had been known for doing just that.

  Wilber swore he’d turned over a new leaf after the death of his son, Penelope’s father, at the hands of hunters who didn’t much care for the fact that Penelope’s mother had befriended supernaturals and championed their cause.

  Curt could only hope Wilber was telling the truth about his killing days being long behind him. Especially if they were all riding in the same van from Maine to Louisiana. Curt had never been to Hedgewitch Cove before and knew very little about the town, other than it was like Everlasting—a safe haven for supernaturals. He’d been told it was just outside of New Orleans and he’d been there plenty of times. There was always a good time to be had in the French Quarter. He just wasn’t so sure getting there would be very fun. Not with his travel buddies.

  So far, Penelope and Kelsey had managed to rope Curt, Hugh, Wilber, Jake, and Leo in their boys-trip plan. None of the men were willing participants. That didn’t seem to matter much to the women.

  The only one of the group the women hadn’t asked was Petey Williams. The yet-to-be-determined-crazy older wolf-shifter had just declared himself part of the gang and then informed everyone that he had the perfect ride. Which led to their current predicament.

  Petey’s perfect ride was more like a perfect nightmare. The van was held together by peace sign stickers, painted flowers, dirt, rust, and the will of the gods (not necessarily in that order). A strong wind could take it out. That or a car wash, maybe even just a heavy rain. It was a moving eyesore and didn’t look safe to drive or ride in.

  “She’s cherry, isn’t she?” asked the older man, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes twinkled with merriment and it was easy to see Petey truly thought he was contributing to the trip. It was hard to be annoyed with him. His help always came from a good place, despite it more often than not leaving nothing but chaos in its wake.

  His salt-and-pepper hair poked out from under his black knit cap that he was rarely without regardless the time of year. He was in a gray T-shirt with holes in it, that had a logo for his bait and tackle shop and a pair of yellow rain pants over his jeans. He had better clothing. Both Curt and Hugh always made sure the man had whatever he needed. The problem with Petey was, he didn’t need much. He liked living simply and wasn’t materialistic in the least. Petey was an old-school fisherman and it showed, from the weathered lines on his face and his permanently tanned skin to the fishing boots he seemed to always be in.

  That being said, the guy would do anything for anyone. He had that big of a heart.

  Curt didn’t relish the thought of hurting the man’s feelings, but he disliked the idea even more that his end would come within the hippie van. Supernatural didn’t mean he couldn’t die. It just meant he was harder to kill.

  “Petey, I don’t know about this,” said Curt, wanting to soften the blow.

  Hugh cast the fisherman a sideways glance. “This thing is a rolling piece of strawberry shortcake.”

  Curt snorted. Hugh wasn’t one to pull punches.

  The wolf-shifter had been subjected to a potion that left him saying off-the-wall things in place of curse words. That had been back in October and Hugh had gone from being able to weave a string of curses together that would shock anyone, to calling people baked goods and other silly names. His mate preferred that to Hugh’s foul mouth, so Hugh stuck with it, even after the potion had worn off. That was a testament to just how much Hugh loved his wife, Penelope.

  Hugh came in at six and a half feet tall (an inch taller than Curt) and was hardly a small guy. He also leaked alpha male as he walked.

  Curt snickered. “Strawberry shortcake. Ooo, hardcore. What’s next? Peach cobbler?”

  Hugh shoved him, making Curt lose his balance. His best friend grabbed him and steadied him before pulling him into a manly hug.

  Hugh was not a hugger.

  The man was as far from a hugger as you could get.

  Yet, he held Curt to him in a tight embrace.

  Curt’s eyes widened as he stood clamped against the wolf-shifter. “Uh, Hugh? You been hitting Petey’s stash?”

  Petey snorted. “He always throws away my good stuff, so I hide it.”

  Hugh stepped back fast, held out his arms, and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to him and weren’t his own. “What the blueberry pancakes was that about? They just hugged you.”

  “They?” echoed Curt.

  Hugh nodded, appearing stunned. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do that.”

  “Yes, you did. I was on the other end of the hug. Trust me, it was you. Also, I’d like it noted that your new aftershave smells nice.”

  Hugh’s nostrils flared. “I did not hug you. My arms did.”

  “That made less sense than your baking curses,” said Curt.

  Hugh grunted. “But it’s true.”

  Curt watched his friend. “Dude, admit it. You’re into me. I’m alluring like that. It’s why you wore the new aftershave, isn’t it? You wanted me to notice you.”

  With a growl, Hugh narrowed his gaze on Curt. “Warrick, don’t make me eat you.”

  “You could try. You forget, I’m a lion-shifter. I’m capable of giving as good as I get. Don’t let the designer clothing fool you. I can throw down with the best of them,” said Curt with a wink. While he tended to joke off nearly everything, his words were not a lie. He was a powerful lion-shifter, born from a line of pure-bloods. While he was as alpha as Hugh, he didn’t walk around wearing it on his sleeve
for all to see. There was no need to. But should the need ever arise, he’d accept the challenge. “Want to hug some more?”

  “I’m going to throttle you!” Hugh’s arms flew out again, this time looking like he really wasn’t in control of them. “What the…?”

  Petey hooked his thumbs behind his white and blue polka dot suspenders, which were currently holding up his bright yellow rain pants. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the peanut butter cookies I left out on your kitchen table. You’ve always had a sweet tooth, Lupine.”

  Hugh paled, his arms still held out wide, as if he was waiting for an embrace. “Tell me you didn’t slip a Polly potion in something I ate.”

  Curt failed to hide his laugh. The only thing that would have made the moment better was if their other best friend, Sigmund Bails, were present to witness it. As it stood, Sig was down in Hedgewitch Cove—their destination.

  Hugh had already fallen victim to potions in baked goods and drinks more than once. Aunt Polly, a witch with a big heart and a colorful approach to life, seemed to take great pleasure in using the wolf as a test subject. He’d once gotten fleas from one of her potions. She’d also been the one behind the potion that had left Hugh saying cute things in place of curse words for the month of October. It had been Polly’s way of assuring she won the pool the town had going.

  Had Polly not taken matters into her own hands, Hugh would have lost the friendly wager he and Curt had going. As it stood, Hugh won with flying colors, not to mention flying baked good rants. It had given Curt so much amusement that it had been worth losing the bet and having to donate five thousand dollars to the middle school fund. Besides, the money had gone to a good cause, so it was worth it in the end.