by Holly Gunn
SHARK
Nashville Shifter Kings
Holly Gunn
and
T. Birmingham
Contents
About me, Holly
Acknowledgments
Foreword: Why the Shifter Kings?
1. SHARK
2. LEXIE
3. SHARK
4. LEXIE
5. SHARK
6. LEXIE
7. SHARK
8. LEXIE
9. SHARK
10. SHARK
11. LEXIE
12. SHARK
Also by Holly Gunn
About me, Holly
Copyright © 2019 by Holly Gunn
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Hell Bent Press & Holly Gunn (Publisher)
Editor: Mostert Seed Editing
Cover Design/Formatting: Hell Bent Press
www.hollygunn.com
About me, Holly
I'm the proud momma to a golden retriever named Charlie, two tortoises named Jake and John, a frog named Toad, and a gopher snake. The latter is my girl, Holly Jr. There's also the fact that I'm a thunderstorm-loving, front porch-sitting, hot cocoa-drinking, beauty product-hoarding, self-proclaimed environmentalist who just happens to write erotic romance.
Sign up for my newsletter (here) to get up to date news, enter giveaways, and find out about freebies!
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the passionate and dedicated editing skills of Margot Mostert and Mostert-Seed Editing. I’m lucky to have her.
I also want to thank my family, my friends, and the many individuals who’ve made this series possible.
Lastly, I’d like to thank the HEA Reader Group. Melinda, Stefanie, Jo, I couldn’t have started without you and without the readers in the group who support me and my work.
Foreword: Why the Shifter Kings?
When I decided to go into publishing, I didn’t just want this small business to be about creating stories that catch the reader’s attention and draw them into a new shifter world. I wanted to do something for the creatures who inhabit this world with us.
I’ve always had pets. Dogs, cats, hamsters, tortoises, frogs … You name it. Although I spent a good deal of my early life in a cast because of an unusual bone disorder, I would dream from afar of riding horses and braving the wilds (while occasionally sneaking away to do things a girl just shouldn’t try to do with a broken arm, leg, or both).
In college, I studied all types of animals in the Biology program I graduated from. Before college, I also did an African Safari in the heart of Nairobi.
All of these experiences led to my love of wild animals and to my wish that sanctuaries stay exactly that. I want to protect the Earth we’ve been given and to celebrate the creatures we often overlook (or even the ones that we adore).
Hence, the Shifter Kings series was born.
And also, hence, all of this is the reason why 5% of all profits for my business will go to various charities, shelters, and sanctuaries to help support wildlife and clean habitats.
I hope you enjoy this series!
Yours,
Holly
This book is dedicated to my older sister, who’s a little (beautifully) odd—and a lot wise. Stay weird, CC, stay weird.
SHARK
“Dumps like a truck …”
Songs get stuck in my head all the time. When I was young, I was diagnosed with a delayed speech impairment. Music is one of the tools my speech therapist used. We’d work through words by singing kid songs and doing word puzzles like, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.”
You might think the “Thong Song” is a step down, but I’ll have you know that life can get boring. Shocking, right? But my dad’s favorite life lesson is, “Only stupid people get bored.”
I made the decision long ago to never be stupid.
So, yeah, I’m singing the “Thong Song” under my breath. This is one song that never fails to stay stuck in my head. It makes life interesting, and I like to think it’s a fucking fantastic conversation starter. However, since I’m in the offices of Shiver Lumber, the family business that helps fund the Shark tribe, I probably shouldn’t be mumbling a song like the one I am—aloud—in a business meeting. An Irons has always run Shiver Lumber, even when one of us hasn’t been in the running for king. While I don’t plan on toning down who I am, becoming a little more professional might be a good thing. Maybe.
My dad’s chuckle draws my attention and I realize his sonar-like hearing has not suffered with age. It’s Mom who’s unable to hold in her larger-than-life laugh, and it spills out of her, across the boardroom table.
I love my parents. They’re odd, quirky, and they know that life is about savoring the moment, having a blast, and more often than not—asking for forgiveness, rather than permission.
An older shifter male on the board of Shiver Lumber, a subsidiary company of Shiver Industries, is the only other person in the room. He ignores the byplay.
“You need to get this under control, Jayden.”
My dad, Jayden, as king of the Shark tribe, he should have a name like Shark, which just happens to my name. Only he doesn’t. In a strange twist of fate, it wasn’t my dad who was born with, what we call the King tattoo, a faded birthmark of our animal that shows up at birth and goes dark when it’s time to find our queen—it was my mom. Unheard of until thirty years ago when they became king and queen of the Shark tribe. Dad was born with what queens are born with, a crown-shaped birthmark that became a tattoo of two sharks: a female common thresher shark (her animal) and a male bull shark (his animal) when they met for the first time.
Matching tattoos, for your information, were started by shifters. Humans think it’s cute. For us, a matching tattoo means a lifetime of the deepest commitment a couple can make. As magical beings, our lifetimes are a little longer. We live to about one hundred and fifty, give or take, some with a lot of give.
Because we live so long, shifters like Derek Mortimer (the older man across the table from me) address my dad when he should address both my mom and dad. Many of us are a little behind the times.
Dad looks to Mom and he quirks a smile, because she’s still giggling over the song I was humming. She could give two fucks what anyone thinks of her.
“What do you think, Oula?”
Most everyone calls my mom, Oula. It’s a bastardized version of her given name, Manōʻula, the Hawaiian name for a thresher shark.
Her face goes impassive. Her darker Hawaiian features, which are the opposite of my bleach-blond hair and tan yet white skin since I take after my dad, smooth out. She’s now the woman I was afraid to cross as a rather rambunctious youth.
I can tell Derek has not completely forgotten his place. He lowers his head at her look.
I think sharks like Derek think that once my parents’ thirty-year ruling cycle is over, things will go back to the way they were before. He, and others like him, are in for some disappointment. His eyes meet my mom’s, then dad’s, then mine. I know mine are smirking, a perpetual look I wear to show the world that, like my mom, I could give two fucks. I back the look up with dirty songs and jokes like my dad—which Mom appreciates.
Derek’s gaze settles on me. “Shark—”
“You can address me and Jayden, Derek.” Mom’s voice is firm. “Shark’s working on finding his queen, and has a meeting with a reporter in an hour he has to get to. A meeting that is one of the
steps we’ve taken to look into the recent attacks. But before he goes, let’s first discuss why you think it’s your business to tell us we need to deal with this. You are a shark. You have our protection. We are sworn and honor-bound to protect you and all those within the shark shivers and the Shark tribe of the United States. For thirty years, we have never failed you in this regard. So, tell us, Derek. What makes you so bold that you think to tell your king that he needs to deal with an issue that he and I are both already aware of? We do not intend to let our kingdom down.”
I’m smirking still, but underneath pride lights in my chest.
Like I said, my parents are odd. Kings and queens are not only meant for each other but built to withstand the trials their people face as well. My parents have withstood much in their time. The bull shark attacks are only the most recent in a long line of attacks in the many waterways of the U.S.
Derek sputters. “I-I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” Dad replies just as firmly as Mom has. “And not in the twenty years I’ve known you and since you’ve been with Shiver Lumber, have you acted in such a way. It’s a new millennium and we believe that if you have concerns, you should voice them. That being said, Derek, not if you intend to tell us to get a job done we’re already damn well working on. You do not micromanage us. You are not king. You are not queen. You are a shark we greatly admire, but don’t take the respect and trust we’ve given to mean you’ve got the right to take an extra mile you have not earned.”
Respect and power are earned, something my parents know better than most.
Derek’s not a bad guy, though.
He ducks his head once more, then glances up at my parents. “I apologize. I’m worried, and I got careless. We know you do all you can for your people. All you can for us. You’ve never let the Shark tribe down.” He takes a deep breath and inclines his head further before he adds, “I think our biggest worry is that we’ll need to move the local shiver. We can’t swim in many of our local spots because they’ve been closed down due to the attacks. Many of us would like to know if this has been discussed, if we need to consider looking for work elsewhere. If we’re not going to be Nashville-based for much longer.”
“Oh, Derek.” Mom leans forward and places her hand over his, seeing in the man that it’s not defiance but fear and uncertainty that have ahold of him. “Hettie, your mate, is worried, isn’t she? You’re not the first to ask. Most of the sharks in the local shiver were not only born and raised here, but have generations of family who have settled in this area. We’ve taken that into consideration. I won’t lie and say it’s something we’ve tabled completely, but it’s quite literally the last possibility. We’re going to figure out what is happening, why there are these sudden local attacks, and we’ll make sure to let others in on what’s happening as soon as we are able.”
Derek nods and says, “Thank you, Queen Oula.”
She returns with a nod of her own and smiles. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way.” She turns to me. “You have a meeting to get to.”
I smile. She wants me out of their hair. She wants me to find my queen. It’s time for her and Dad to hand over the ‘reigns’, so to speak. I stand to my full height of five foot, ten, kiss her on the cheek while she remains seated and then clap my dad on the back after we hug.
Boring meeting number one of the day, done.
What? You think shifter life is all excitement, turning into an animal, fighting battles, and sex? Okay, so it’s all those things.
But mostly, it’s just life.
The best thing about life though?
Once you know the rules, you can bend them—and that’s where the fun parts come in.
My mom and dad did not raise a stupid and easily bored future king. They raised a shark, and sharks always find a way to make life interesting.
Red hair, height only a couple inches shorter than me, lightly tanned face, freckles, a nose ring, full breasts which normally aren’t my thing, green eyes like the jade of the sea, and a mysterious barely-there smile that could make a saint hard. She’s stunning. No other word for it.
But she’s distant. It’s in the set of her shoulders, the tight jaw, the barely-there smile … I’ve never been into distant.
“Shark Irons,” I say, taking the hand she’s held out for me to shake.
“Seraphina Raynes.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and adds, “Which is a mouthful, so Sera works.”
“Sera.”
I jerk my head toward the river bend, where the most recent bull shark attack took place, and pull my hand free of hers. When I do, a prickle of electricity starts in the tips of my fingers. The shock spreads to my hand, then wrist, until my heart beat speeds up. It’s not a bad feeling, though it should be.
What the hell?
I glance at her, and she’s already walking toward the site, cool as a cucumber, as though nothing’s happened.
Shaking my head, I say, “So, my dad wanted me to chat with you about the local shark attacks, see if you know anything.”
She’s still walking when she brings up a good point. “You have other local Sea witches. Why me? I’m a good few hours outside of the city.”
“It’s not meant to say anything about the other witch families we work with. It’s just, you’re well known as a reporter. You’ve traveled the world, and your most recent article on the uptick in shark attacks the past few years was interesting.”
Her face turns toward me even as she continues walking. She laughs and the distance I sensed earlier is made clearer by the lie in that laugh. She finds very little funny.
“Interesting is one way to put it.”
I scratch at my chin. “You think it’s something else?”
She stops and her body twists my way. Her face goes funny, guarded, when she says, “I think the seas and waterways are trying to speak to us.”
Anyone else might think she’s crazy. I was raised by a hippie bull shark and a Hawaiian female king.
“Like a warning?” I question.
She’s back to being more open, nodding and looking out at the large mouth of the river.
“Exactly like a warning.”
“Is this part of your gift as a witch?”
Her green eyes hit me and she nods once. “My family, we’re rare. But we’re strongest around water. I’ve done stories on wars, on sanctuaries like the shifter-run ones in Chicago and Texas.” She smirks. “Though the public doesn’t know they’re shifters, do they?”
I return her smirk with one of my own. “Tricky, tricky. But some want that to change, don’t they? Coming out to the public would change things.” I lift my chin toward the river again, quickly changing the subject. Politics isn’t a fun conversation in any world. I can see in her eyes, though, she’s against it. And laid back as I am, I agree with her and my buddy, Spider. Some supernaturals would be embraced by such a coming out; others of us would not.
“So,” I continue, “you’ve been all over. It’s the shark attacks we’re interested in, however. What can you tell me about them? And what makes you think there’s something else happening?”
She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes on the ebb and flow of the Cumberland River. Her words are quiet when she finally answers. “Sea witch is a misnomer. We are witches with water abilities.” Another smirk. “Sea witch just sounds cooler.” Her voice changes when, after a moment’s pause, she starts to speak again. “The waters speak. They speak of change on the horizon. They speak of a change in the tides of time. They speak of lives lost. But mostly they speak of the world becoming anew.” A few more minutes pass as I mull over her words.
A breath passes out of her like it’s been dragged from her, like what she’s said is too much, and she needs to lighten the mood.
“Then again, water is about emotion, and so it can be a little dramatic.”
Her smile is distant once more. She hasn’t perfected the blasé attitude I have. I won’t say I know how a Sea witch’s gifts wor
k, but I wonder if this is because she might get power from the water but as a water animal, I am like my shark brethren. I am of the water. I am that beast that rolls with the tides and understands the beauty in the ebb and flow of any type of water—because I am not only a man. I’m a shark. It’s in my DNA, this animal, and all the instincts that come with who I am beneath the skin.
“So, the animals are restless?” I tack on a second question. “If the waters as a whole are restless, why just sharks? Why not any other sea creatures?”
She doesn’t reply right away but when she does, her words are quiet. “It’s not just sharks. Like I said, my family feels it. Other water creatures sense it too. It’s change, which we understand. We are not air creatures or land creatures that prefer to fly higher than we should or stay grounded and constant. We are emotion and change. For that reason, we sense it more than other creatures.”
Well, damn.
“I’m supposed to deal with this problem of the shark attacks. And no offense, Sera, but I can’t bring this to my people, some vague tale that the world-wide web of waters is sensing a change. We need to take care of this. We need the attacks to stop so that my sharks can get back to their day in, day out routines. I don’t want to start off my thirty-year ruling cycle by failing them.”
Her face changes and she glances back at me. In her eyes, I see some shock. I think like most people, she thinks my perpetual grin means I’m not terribly serious. But I was born king. I take many things seriously. My people are who I take most serious. Derek’s worried eyes flash in my mind. To some, moving might not be scary. Change may not be either. But for those steeped in tradition, they rely on their rulers to maintain consistency in times of struggle.