Accidentally Catty
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
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
CHAPTER 21
EPILOGUE
“A writer to watch!”
—Angela Knight, New York Times bestselling author
PRAISE FOR
THE ACCIDENTAL HUMAN
“I highly enjoyed every moment of Dakota Cassidy’s The Accidental Human . . . A paranormal romance with a strong dose of humor.”
—Errant Dreams
“A delightful, at times droll, contemporary tale starring a decidedly human heroine . . . Dakota Cassidy provides a fitting twisted ending to this amusingly warm urban romantic fantasy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The final member of Cassidy’s trio of decidedly offbeat friends faces her toughest challenge, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t humor to spare! With emotion, laughter, and some pathos, Cassidy serves up another winner!”
—Romantic Times
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD
“A laugh-out-loud follow-up to The Accidental Werewolf, and it’s a winner . . . Ms. Cassidy is an up-and-comer in the world of paranormal romance.”
—Fresh Fiction
“An enjoyable, humorous satire that takes a bite out of the vampire romance subgenre . . . Fans will appreciate the nonstop hilarity.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
THE ACCIDENTAL WEREWOLF
“Cassidy, a prolific author of erotica, has ventured into MaryJanice Davidson territory with a humorous, sexy tale.”
—Booklist
“If Bridget Jones became a lycanthrope, she might be Marty. Fun and flirty humor is cleverly interspersed with dramatic mystery and action. It’s hard to know which character to love best, though—Keegan or Muffin, the toy poodle that steals more than one scene.”
—The Eternal Night
“A riot! Marty’s internal dialogue will have you howling, and her antics will keep the laughs coming. If you love paranormal with a comedic twist, you’ll love this book.”
—Romance Junkies
“A lighthearted romp . . . [An] entertaining tale with an alpha twist.”
—Midwest Book Review
KISS & HELL
“A fun, lighthearted paranormal romance that will keep readers entertained. Ms. Cassidy fills the pages of her book with nonstop banter, ghostly activity, and steamy romance.”
—Darque Reviews
“Delaney, with her amusing sarcastic asides, makes for an entertaining romantic fantasy with a wonderful mystery subplot . . . Readers will relish this lighthearted, jocular frolic.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Cassidy has created a hilarious lead in Delaney Markham. Readers will run through all types of emotions while enjoying laugh-out-loud moments, desperate passion, wacky and fun characters, pop-culture references, and one intense mystery. The book’s charm is apparent from the first page, but the twisted mystery tangled throughout will keep the pages turning.”
—Romantic Times
MORE PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF DAKOTA CASSIDY
“The fictional equivalent of the little black dress—every reader should have one!”
—Michele Bardsley
“Serious, laugh-out-loud humor with heart, the kind of love story that leaves you rooting for the heroine, sighing for the hero, and looking for your own significant other at the same time.”
—Kate Douglas
“Expect great things from Cassidy.”
—Romantic Times
“Very fun, sexy. Five stars!”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Dakota Cassidy is going on my must-read list!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“If you’re looking for some steamy romance with something that will have you smiling, you have to read [Dakota Cassidy].”
—The Best Reviews
Berkley Sensation titles by Dakota Cassidy
YOU DROPPED A BLONDE ON ME
KISS & HELL
MY WAY TO HELL
THE ACCIDENTAL WEREWOLF
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD
THE ACCIDENTAL HUMAN
ACCIDENTALLY DEMONIC
ACCIDENTALLY CATTY
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2011 by Dakota Cassidy.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / March 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cassidy, Dakota.
Accidentally catty / Dakota Cassidy. p. cm.—(An accidental series; 5)
eISBN : 978-1-101-51330-9
1. Women veterinarians—Fiction. 2. Upstate New York (N.Y.)—Fiction. 3. Shapeshifting—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3603.A8685A655 2011
813’.6—dc22
2010046659
http://us.penguingroup.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In honor of Katie Wood, who creates the most fabulous covers that, even in this author’s wildest dreams, are more than I could have ever hoped for. I don’t know how I got so damned lucky, but I’m all kinds of grateful for your genius.You, my friend, rocketh!
Also to Terri, who came up with a pearl of pure funny now contained within these pages. To Kate Pearce, who was a huge help with my Britishisms.
And, as always, this is with love and gratitude to the love of my life, R
ob, my family, and especially to my father, Robert. I really miss you, Dad.
Huge thanks to the League of Reluctant Adults for more ROFLMAO moments than a marathon of Last Comic Standing.
And to the fans, bloggers, and booksellers—your emails, your support, your Facebook posts, your tweets, your hard work, and your devotion to this series are a joy to experience.
To my pets—every last seven of you. Thank you for having more health afflictions than War and Peace has pages. Those very health issues, and the 2,002 trips to the vet, came in very handy when writing about medical procedures and prescriptions. I love you each because of, and in spite of, your incontinence, hyperthyroidism, one-eyed-ness, un-potty-trainable-ness, diabetes, enlarged heart, blind-and-suddenly-deaf-only-vhen-it’s-time-to-get-in-your-crate-edness. My nights just wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t have to sleep on a mere two inches of mattress in a king-sized bed while I burrow beside your beastly, stanky goodness. Truly, I adore you.
Last, but most certainly not least, to Nat in Canada (where some serious readers rule!). Seriously, dude, how could I have ever written a book without the word “homeslice” in it? Thanks for putting me back on the path of the righteous—you aiiight.
www.tshirthell.com/hell.shtml
wdfw.wa.gov/wlm/living/cougars.htm
Dakota ☺
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Please note, while I researched cougars as thoroughly as possible, I’ve obviously taken some artistic license due to the nature of my humor. If I’ve inaccurately portrayed any of the facts I’ve used in the book, please consider any and all mistakes mine.
CHAPTER 1
“Uh, Dr. Woods?”
“Ingrid?”
“You do see that, don’t you? I mean, that’s not just the buttery nipple shots I had after dinner talking, right? Because, like, oh, my effin’ God.”
Katherine Woods, DVM, inhaled deep, then released with a whoosh of breath made visible by the chilly country air. “No. I didn’t have anything even remotely buttery or nipply and I see what you see.” She ran a hand over her forehead in thought.
What to do? What to do?
Ingrid Lawson, her faithful though often scatterbrained receptionist, clung to her arm, moving behind Katie. “This is a problem, right? I mean . . . you know, all on the front steps to the clinic, just out—out . . . in—in the open. Who knows what could happen? This could attract all sorts of . . . well . . .” Ingrid, too, breathed deeply, her thoughts clearly slowing with her shaky words. “Yes, bad things. It could attract very bad things. Just baaaad.”
Katie nodded with a distracted smile, her mind sorting through her shock to search for a solution. “We definitely don’t want to attract the bad. You wait here—”
“Oh, hell to the no!” Ingrid shouted, the echo of her response resonating throughout the woods surrounding the veterinary clinic. “I am not staying here with—with . . . that. Nuh-uh.” Her multicolored black, green, and pink head shook a very definitive “not on your life” when she backed away.
“Calm down, Ingrid. I’ll tell you what,” Katie said, crouching on the steps. “You go get Kaih. I think he’s still inside with Mrs. Krupkowski’s Chi, getting her settled. We need some brawn. I’ll wait . . . here.” She pointed to the cement steps.
Ingrid was up the stairs in a shot, fueled by her fear and a couple of buttery nipples.
Katie eyed the steps, yawning with a shiver after a long day at the clinic.
She was getting too old for these kinds of hours.
She was definitely getting too old for these kinds of surprises.
Maybe she should just turn right around and head back down the hill to Ed’s and have a buttery nipple—or five.
"THANK you for calling OOPS. This is Wanda Schwartz Jefferson, here to service all your paranormal needs. How may I help you?”
There was a pause—a long one—before Wanda gasped, then slammed down the phone with a huff, narrowing her eyes.
Casey and Marty exchanged wincing glances.
Marty bit her lip, sliding her pen back into its holder with care so as not to jar Wanda, who was very clearly on edge.
Casey fiddled with her stack of Post-it pads. Very pink. Very blank.
Nina, on the other hand, rose from her office chair and snorted. “Another crank that needs an ass kickin’, pal?” she asked Wanda. “Do that frickin’ caller ID thing and I’ll call the shit stain back. He’ll wish he’d thought twice before picking up the phone and smack talking us after I wrap his dick around his neck.”
Wanda’s lips trembled to a thin line when she pointed at Nina with the familiarly universal gesture for her to still her mouth. “That isn’t the way we want to introduce ourselves to society at large, Nina. It’s unseemly. We all knew crank calls would be a part of the deal when we decided to do this. You don’t think the Ghost Hunters didn’t take a potshot or two before they got their own show, do you? But they’re not out there threatening to pull people’s diaphragms through their belly buttons because much of society doesn’t believe in ghosts, now, are they?”
She paused, flicking the ballpoint pen Heath had given her to celebrate the beginning of this venture. “There are people who need our help. That’s our focus, not the nincompoops who call to ask if you can use your superhuman strength to kick their science teacher’s ass for giving them a D-minus on their class project.”
Casey leaned back in her chair, propping her ballet-slippered feet up on the edge of her desk. “Yeah.You know, I’ve been giving some thought to the nonbelievers. Maybe we should put an ad in the newspaper and invite those punks to a central location, then offer them Giants tickets as incentive to show up. Like a paranormal sting or something.” She cocked her dark head with a sly smile. “Then I’ll fry their asses while you guys hiss and shed. Whaddya think?”
Marty rolled her eyes, scooping Muffin up to set her in her lap. She twisted her poodle’s lavender rhinestone-studded collar to straighten it. “I think you ain’t seen nuthin’ till you’ve seen scared humans en masse with wooden stakes and a rope of garlic. We may be bigger in numbers than most of the human population thinks, but this isn’t ‘We Are the World,’ Casey. The humans will always outnumber us, unfortunately. While it would be LOL funny to see the expressions on their faces when we shift or Nina gives them the best display evah of a vampire behaving badly, that’s sort of not the goal here.”
Nina made a face at Marty, tucking her arms under her breasts and leaning back in her chair. “Remind me again just what the fuck the goal is here, Marty? Why am I spending three nights a week, volunteering time I could be spending with my man, answering bullshit calls from whacks who actually believe we’re the nuts?”
“It was your idea, Nina,” Wanda offered dryly, gnawing on the tip of her pen.
“This”—she spread her arms wide to encompass the small space they’d rented for their venture—“was my idea how, Wanda?”
“Oh, please. To quote you loosely, I distinctly remember it was you who said at Naomi’s sweet sixteen party, ‘There must be some other poor chicks whose boyfriends have, I dunno, iguanas maybe, that have accidentally bitten them and turned them into, like, Puff, the Magic Dragon. If it happened to us, and we all know each other, then there could be others like us.’ Loose quote, unquote. Remember that, Elvira?” Wanda asked on a neck roll.
Nina flicked her lean fingers in Wanda’s direction. “Yeah, I said it. But I didn’t mean we should don our paranormal capes and save the world Superman style. This is bullshit, Wanda. Nobody is taking this seriously. We should have never taken out that ad in that kooky alternative magazine or opened Twitter and Facebook accounts. You should see the shit people say. They’re all flakes.”
Wanda heaved a sigh, letting her head fall to her arms. “Maybe you’re right, Nina.” Her words held resignation.
Nina sat upright, her lean spine ramrod straight beneath her loose-fitting sweatshirt. “What? Did you say I’m right? Casey, Marty, prepare to meet your maker.”
Marty stroked Muffin with a light hand. “I did say maybe the whole Out in the Open Paranormal Support wasn’t the right name for us. Maybe it’s just too weird and it freaked people out.”
“No, it just freaked our husbands out,” Casey reminded her. “Do you remember the look on Clay’s face when we all told our Neanderthal mates that we were going to go live with this OOPS thing? I think if Clay could still die of a heart attack, he’d have done it right there in front of everyone. They weren’t in love with this idea from the get-go. All that nonsense they spewed about living peacefully with humans and not making waves or drawing attention to ourselves when those men know perfectly well, if we all hadn’t known each other, Nina would have ended up staked through that cold, black heart of hers within twenty-four hours of turning. Ditching it all would just prove them right. I don’t know about all of you, but I don’t much like being wrong. Besides, I like to tweet with the people who ask me stupid things like where my pitchfork is.”
Nina’s chair scraped against the cement floor, her arms rigid when she latched onto the edge of her desk. “My cold, black heart? You do know I can kill you, right?” she asked Casey.