Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1)

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Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) Page 1

by Meredith Allen Conner




  BIGFOOTS DON’T DO MINI COOPERS

  Meredith Allen Conner

  Dedication

  For Kate

  Partner in crime, hostess with the mostest, drinking partner, dedicated Pinot Grigio lover, cancer battler, sounding board, fashionista, lover of life, family and friends. Best Friend.

  I miss you now and I will miss you always.

  Chapters

  1. He Does Exist.

  2. Big Demons and Their Full-Sized Trucks.

  3. Between A Demon and A Chihuahua.

  4. Smells Like Bear and Monkey.

  5. Minor and Major Upheavals.

  6.Chihuahuas and Senators.

  7. Redneck Fairies.

  8. Not Again.

  9. Body Dumping 102.

  10. The Plan.

  11. Testy Demons.

  12. HOT Demons.

  13. What Happened to Together?

  14. Bigfoot is a Girl.

  15. Matchmaking Is Serious Stuff.

  16. Burning Demons.

  17. Deliberate or Accidental Attempted Murder?

  18. My Issues. Oh, My Issues.

  19. My Life in Ruins.

  20. Smart Chihuahuas and Panicky Witches.

  21. Hot, HOT Demons.

  22. My Life In Ruins. Take 2.

  23. Getting Better.

  24. Back To Good.

  25. Bigfoot Goes Home. Finally.

  26. Big Al, The Hero.

  27. Resolution.

  1. He Does Exist.

  It was a dark and stormy night.

  No, really, it was.

  The rain pounded down on my windshield like an out of control group of young witches on the door to a local magic store right before a close-out sale on brooms.

  Which is probably why I didn’t see the body before I hit it.

  The impact completely crumpled my bright yellow Mini Cooper. One second I’m singing along to Adele, the next, my steering wheel is in my chest, my face is part of the dashboard and my hair is hanging out through the shattered windshield and over the hood.

  Well, it would have hung over the hood a lot more if the hood had been where it was supposed to be and not tucked up accordion style against the rest of my beloved car.

  It’s a darn good thing I’m a witch. I didn’t panic. I just yelled the words to a healing spell as fast as I could. Almost immediately the feeling returned to my legs.

  I instantly screamed the words to a fix-it spell. As soon as my hood re-expanded, I repeated the healing spell. In a slightly calmer voice.

  This time the feeling returned and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had two legs and they both worked. Hopefully, I’d lost an old scar and nothing more.

  Things are never exactly the same after you use magic.

  On the plus side, I’ve had to brush up on my super healing spells lately, so I had the words memorized.

  Actually, I’m not certain that is a good thing.

  Although I was definitely grateful for it right at the moment. I didn’t have my Spell Book to look up the spell and I doubt if I would have been able to stay conscious long enough, even if I did have it, to find the spell I needed.

  I opened my door, got drenched in the driving rain, slammed the door shut, grabbed my umbrella and tried it all over again. I had to hold onto my umbrella with both hands and smash it onto my head to keep it anywhere near my vicinity and useful, the rain and wind were that strong.

  The weather totally screwed up my vision as well. Without my headlights on, I couldn’t see two feet in front of me. Which is why I fell over the body in front of my car. At that moment I realized I’d hit a something and not a downed tree.

  A something that stank as much as my first cauldron spell. A really big something. A furry something.

  I had werewolf on the brain and magic cupped in my hands ready to fire away if it tried to bite when I finally looked in its face.

  It didn’t have a muzzle or pointy fangs, two things that go wand in wand with the term werewolf. Its face was vaguely human. Very similar to a gorilla’s face.

  That’s when it hit me. I’d just run over Bigfoot.

  I was horrified. I’d always thought Bigfoot was a myth, a legend, or at the very least something totally made up. Now I knew differently. And I’d just killed it.

  I know all about mythological creatures and supernatural beings. A few of them I call friends. The rest I call . . . well, let’s just say I don’t call them friends.

  I’m Kate. Kate Storm, third generation witch and owner of a matchmaking service. I try not to let the Cursed In Love part of my witchy heritage affect my business. It’s something I’m working on.

  I’m very familiar with the humanly-challenged. I’m one of them. Sort of. I’m a mortal witch. Everyone else in the HC - humanly-challenged - community is immortal. That’s created a few issues for me.

  Although those in the HC haven’t let it bother them - anymore - when it comes to love. Once word got out I’d actually matched a couple with True Love – never mind that they were human – business had picked up. Which is pretty amazing considering the last official HC client I’d had before the awesome True Love match wound up dead. On my doorstep.

  Awkward bit of business that. Especially since he had been a Prince of the United States Vampires. An actual prince, not a prince in terms of character . . . never mind, the point is he died. Really died. On my doorstep.

  And yet, business is booming. Okay, it’s better than it was. Some might consider it mediocre at best. To me, it’s flat out spectacular. Seriously, I don’t even wince when I write my monthly rent check, how cool is that?

  Better yet? No one in the HC even knows the prince died on my doorstep. Or that I buried his body in the woods. Actually, no one knows about the illegal burial plot, since the humans have no clue what-so-ever about the HC.

  It all works for me. Everything that is, except the current body at my feet. Another dead body. In my life. And this one I had managed to kill.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  I briefly tossed around the idea of a spell. However, reanimation is black magic and I’m a good witch. Plus, I’m fairly sure there are certain tricks to those types of spells. Bad tricks for bad spells.

  I’d considered testing my theory on a zombie once since they are already dead, but still strangely living. Sadly, he really did die.

  Also, it’s always best to know the exact species of the being you’re trying to reanimate. The reanimation spell for a turtle is not going to work the same as the one for a lion. Odd, but true. I had no idea what species Bigfoot belonged to.

  I was going to have to get rid of a body. Again. I didn’t like it: 1. My business was picking up and if word got out I’d killed a mythical creature it wouldn’t go over well. Selfish? Yes. However it was already dead and there really wasn’t anything I could do about it. 2. If I left it in the middle of the road, someone was bound to hit it again, which would cause another accident, in which case someone else might end up getting hurt. I would feel really awful about that.

  I dug for my phone. Who to call? Morgan, my vampire best friend? Or Ash, Demon Lord and the reason I’m currently searching for a cure to my Cursed In Love covenly thing?

  Hmmm.

  The Bigfoot groaned.

  I screamed. And jumped a good six feet in the air. Unfortunately, when I came back down I landed on the Bigfoot.

  It moaned pitifully and grabbed for its stomach. My body got in the way as that was the exact location of my landing. Enormous, furry, smelly arms squeezed until black dots danced around the corners of my eyes.

  I didn’t hold it against it.
Payback seemed fair since I’d almost killed it.

  The black began to overtake my entire field of vision.

  Screw fair. I wanted to live.

  I began to thrash about which pretty much amounted to a small wiggle to one side and then another tiny scoot to the other. Bigfoots are really, really, really strong.

  My movements must have startled it slightly, because I was tossed into the air far enough to land on the branch of a tree nearly thirty feet away. Either that or I’d definitely ticked the thing off and it wanted to kill me.

  I pondered that possibility as I uttered yet another healing spell and climbed out of the tree. I took three steps back towards the Bigfoot and stopped. It was sitting up, cradling its stomach and eyeing me in a manner similar to what I imagined a mouse would as it frantically back peddled from the large cat.

  I’m fairly certain the only reason Bigfoot wasn’t hightailing it into the woods was the broken leg sticking out to the side just below its knee.

  I pasted on my best I-am-a-sweet-witch smile and started forward again. The Bigfoot looked at me, then my car and began to yowl. Shoot. So much for my smile. Maybe I should try my yes-I-did-run-you-over-but-that-was-just-an-accident smile?

  Did I even have one of those? I’m not one hundred percent certain I did, but I gave it my best shot. I’d run the thing down. It was my responsibility to help it.

  That’s really more of a philosophical trait of some covens I know of in Japan, but like I said, I’m a nice witch. Running a creature over and then leaving it just didn’t seem the appropriate thing to do.

  “I’m terribly sorry I ran you over.” I locked my smile in place as I spoke, keeping my voice soft and gentle. “It was an accident. I didn’t see you at all.”

  Bigfoot quit yelling and stared intently at me. Flying broomsticks, did it understand me? I knew nothing about Bigfoots. Bigfeet. This large, stinky, never-seen-before creature. For all I knew I could be the first human it had ever seen.

  Bigfoot growled and gave me the finger. Then it collapsed back onto the pavement.

  Guess it had seen a few humans. Rude ones too.

  I rushed over to it, cursing and scrambling to think of any spell that might help at all. If this was the only Bigfoot in existence I did not want to be the one responsible for making it extinct.

  I live in a fairly small town. If there were more Bigfeet around, you’d think I would have heard about it.

  Its chest still moved up and down, rhythmically if a bit slowly. It had just passed out. I blew out a huge sigh and unlocked my phone. My reflexes for cupping magic come in handy at the best of times, I rarely lost anything I held. That’s certainly a benefit whenever I get thrown into a tree.

  I hesitated briefly over the keypad before I remembered Morgan had a hot date tonight. Usually I remember these important details in my undead best friend’s life, but potentially homicidal accidents really mess with a witch’s thought process.

  I dialed his number as fast as I could. Bigfoot and I were both soaked. It didn’t need to catch a cold on top of the probable internal damage, broken leg and other assorted injuries.

  Ash picked up before the first ring ended. “Hello Kate. I thought you were busy tonight.”

  Apparently he was still miffed about our fight earlier. I didn’t hold it against him. I’d been peeved myself before I ran over Bigfoot.

  “My plans have changed. I’ve had an accident. I need your help.” Specifically, I needed his truck, but we’d get to that.

  Instantly his voice changed, deepened, tightened. “Are you all right?” The warmth of his genuine concern wrapped around me. He didn’t panic. Ash is a Demon Lord, I don’t think demon lords panic. But based on his tone, I could easily picture his body tense, muscles ready and amber eyes heating with a promise of hell to pay if I was hurt.

  That would be a literal promise on his part since all demons come from somewhere in hell.

  If he wasn’t in his big truck, he was more than likely heading for it. I heard the deep rumble of his engine as he started it.

  Sigh.

  These are just a few of the reasons I couldn’t simply boot him out of my life. There is something Ash is hiding from me. Something not good. I don’t know what it is and he - star demon of my fantasies - refuses to tell me about it.

  I worried for my independent witch self. I scolded my hormones that rejoiced whenever Ash was around and I brandished my sword in defense of my heart. Sort of stupid really, as I knew Ash had already found the backdoor to my soul.

  We’d been walking a tight rope for the last few weeks. I’d periodically ask him what he was hiding, he’d glare at me and refuse to discuss it, we’d end up in a fight. On our last date, I’d decided not to ask him any questions guaranteed to start a fight. That had really ticked him off.

  A smart witch knows not to trust a sneaky demon. You’d think I would know that by now. Especially with the Cursed In Love thing hanging over my coven. So why am I searching for a way to revoke the curse?

  I’m not even sure why I bother asking myself such rhetorical questions.

  “Kate!”

  “What?” I snapped. I was drenched, sitting next to a nasty smelling creature and ruminating over my doomed love life - I didn’t need his attitude as well.

  “Are you all right?”

  Sigh. And there it was, back in my face. Ash cared for me. I don’t think he liked it or even knew what to do about it, but Ash definitely cared. I can count on one hand the amount of people that care for me and still have fingers left over. Add that to the fact I have feelings for the big demon as well and . . . Double sigh. And I had called him.

  “I’m fine.” I looked down at my torn jeans as I sat in a rapidly forming puddle. My attire had suffered, but I was okay. I gave him directions and hung up. I wasn’t trying to be rude. Thoughts of our cursed relationship always make me irritable and vulnerable. I don’t do vulnerable well. Irritable I’m not so bad at.

  The rain had pooled into a decent size puddle in between my legs and Bigfoot’s side. I shifted slightly and created a nice stream.

  Frogs and warts.

  I grabbed for the dangly peacock feather earrings I’d purchased just for tonight. Sure enough they were now a wet mess. I didn’t even bother to check my curls. I’d worked hard on my up-do tonight, which became a complete waste of time the moment I lost my umbrella. The wind must have grabbed it when I went sailing towards the tree. So much for my excellent reflexes.

  At least I had my phone. I dialed another number. I counted five rings before this call was answered. I’m surprised she even heard it over the music.

  “Hey, Sandra,” I began, “I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Something’s come up.”

  An enormous boom of thunder shook the ground. I didn’t care for the metaphorical sound effects. I was wet and miserable. I’d injured Bigfoot. The possibility remained for vehicular manslaughter and now I was going to miss the big reception for my first True Love match.

  Another blast of thunder vibrated from the top of my ruined hair-do to my rapidly shrinking leather boots.

  I hoped that one wasn’t a foreshadowing boom. How much worse could things get?

  2. Big Demons And Their Full-Size Trucks.

  You should never ask yourself certain questions. They just beg for disaster to strike.

  Bigfoot let out a miserable moan, seconds before it woke up. In my coven we are really good at making matches as well as healing humans. The healing humans part is more of a historical fact now that very few humans believe in magic anymore. The HC have never needed our skills as they can heal themselves. And they don’t like asking for help.

  Bigfoot might be a mythical creature, but it obviously needed my skills. Add to the point I’d hit it in the first place and my stomach was in utter knots.

  “There, there.” Now I understood the meaning of that phrase. It’s available during those times when you’ve got nothing else.

  Bigfoot growled at me. I though
t about growling back.

  I seriously needed my Spell Book. Let this be a lesson for any young witch considering dropping out of the Witch’s Academy. Don’t do it. You never know when those lessons will come in handy.

  The poor creature grabbed its stomach, moaning pitifully. I scooted down and lifted one leg, propped it over both of mine and then edged closer and did the same with the other one. I was panting by the time I’d finished. Where the heck was Ash? I could use his muscles, this thing weighed a few tons.

  Bigfoot raised its head and snarled what I figured had to be choice curse words in Bigfootese. I tried to raise its legs a little higher, but I couldn’t manage more than an inch before my arms gave out. I was at the end of my broomstick with options. As a witch I tend to rely on my magic in most situations because . . . Well, I’m a witch.

  I know diddly-squat about actual first aid. In fact everything I do know, comes from my best friend Morgan. As she is a vampire and gets all of her first aid knowledge from crime shows where the people are already dead, it pretty much left me in the rain saying “there, there” and keeping its legs raised.

  I needed to call my Aunt Tabitha. She’s a much better healer than I am. I pulled out my phone again only to discover a blank screen. No matter how many times I prodded it, the darn thing refused to respond.

  Getting soaked in the rain might have had something to do with that. My magic is worthless against updated technology. As soon as they come up with a good spell, a newer phone or computer comes out and it’s back to the cauldron.

  Bigfoot wailed.

  I patted its knee. “There, there . . .” I didn’t know what to call it. Smelly fit, but insulting the creature after I’d already run it down just didn’t sit right. “I’m really sorry I hit you and you’re in pain.” Its moans reached caterwauling levels. “Okay, agonizing torment. My friend is on his way here, I’m going to bring you home and I’ll fix you up. I promise.”

  Bigfoot quit screaming and simply looked at me. Despite not talking to me - at least in a language I could understand - I had the oddest feeling it knew exactly what I was saying.

 

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