Page 1 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

The blood moon is drawing near and the urge to shift and run crawls like ants under my skin.

It’s been a few weeks since I ran, I should probably take advantage of the empty woods now before all the others arrive.

I’m not partial to running with others, they get in my way.

Once other shifters start arriving in town there won’t be an inch of the woods not stinking of unknown horny males.

Every four years or so when the blood moon comes around, town becomes a circus.

Shifters from all over the state, and some from farther, show up to use our protected forest to run in safely.

My family owns nearly five hundred acres of land filled with nothing but trees and forest, completely uninhabited by humans.

The only residents are sprites and woodland animals with the occasional appearance of a wayward unwanted wraith.

Thankfully I haven’t come across one in a long time, but they appear when you least expect it.

Just one more reason I should go for a run and check the woods before more shifters show up.

It’s barely mid-morning so I make a plan to check the woods tonight.

There should be little to few non-humans in the woods, which makes it safer for me to run and easier for me to remove any unwanted guests.

Being sheriff in Snowberry is more work than being sheriff in a human town.

Snowberry is filled with non-humans trying to live their lives just like everyone else.

We just have different needs and requirements than a human town would.

Like concealing our town from google. Thankfully we have people like my sister, Ginger, who is a wiz at computers to make sure Snowberry doesn’t show up on any map, satellite, website, or social media posting. Which is the way we like it.

More than ninety percent of the population of Snowberry is non-human and the humans that do live here all mostly know what we are, a good chunk of them married or related to non-humans.

There are a few that have no clue they’re living in a town filled with shifters, fairies, nymphs and merefolk, among other species.

Which is why all non-humans without shifting abilities use their magic to wear a glamour at all times, just in case.

We do get the occasional tourist, usually someone who got lost and found us by mistake.

As long as they don’t see anything they’re not supposed to, we let them rent a room at the motel and be on their merry way.

Taking care of such lost humans and making sure new and visiting non-humans know our rules, is part of my job description. Which is why today I’m patrolling town and checking in with all the local businesses to make sure everything is running smoothly.

In such a small town filled with individuals who are concerned with everyone’s comings and goings, there tend to be a few chatty Kathy’s.

I’m still not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing yet, even though I’ve lived here my entire life, minus time spent away for school.

It does make finding out about new arrivals a lot easier though.

Which is why I’m heading to Dottie’s Drive-In Diner for lunch.

I myself don’t care much for talking but I listen just fine, and if Dottie has anything to say that might be important, I’ll hear it.

She always has something to say as part of the double D’s in town.

Also known and Dottie and Donna, the two gossip queens of Snowberry.

If there’s anything worth knowing, or even not knowing, they know it.

Taking the long way around, I leave my truck parked at Town Hall where my office and the mayor’s office are and walk through the town square.

I’ll start at the farthest shop from my office and work my way back.

It’s the best use of time and ensures I don’t get corralled by anyone while trying to make my way back to my office and get sucked into rescuing another cat from a tree.

Firstly, cats don’t particularly like shifters since we’re more canine in nature, and secondly, don’t people realize it’s a fucking cat?

It can get down on its own just as easily as it got up there.

I check in with Shanna at Another Man’s Junk and she shows me her new acquisition of antique doorknobs she found in Casper Wyoming.

I nearly escape before she starts to show me her bobble head collection and make my way to Closet Carousel.

I chat with Larken for a few and fend off yet another offer to revamp my wardrobe.

I’m happy with jeans and t-shirts, and the occasional flannel jacket.

I’m sheriff of a small town in the middle of nowhere, I don’t need a three-piece suit and cufflinks, I’ll never wear them.

What I could use is a new pair of boots.

After my already exhausting morning of forcing myself to converse with townsfolk, I decide I need a nice strong coffee before venturing into Dottie’s .

The Ugly Mug is right across the street from Dottie’s and I cross and enter the eclectic coffee shop before Dottie spots me and pulls me in before I’m prepared.

Colorful mugs hang on the wall, each one different from the next.

The owner, a fairy named Arthur, was a world traveler for many years before he settled here in Snowberry.

He took his love of collecting strange and unique coffee mugs and turned it into The Ugly Mug , a coffee shop where you choose the mug, and lately not the coffee inside.

Tobias, another fairy who has been working at the shop for the last fifteen years at least, has taken it upon himself to tell you what coffee you want rather than the other way around.

Most residents love his unique skill of knowing what coffee you need rather than want.

I myself find it tiresome and irritating.

The bell jingles over head as I enter and luckily there’s only one person in line ahead of me, Tobias smiles behind the counter as he regales the customer with her perfect coffee order based on the cup she chose and her aura.

A special skill only to the fairies who are able to see a person’s emotions in colors around them like an aura.

I imagine mine’s always grey, or red. Not that I can’t be happy, I can.

I just have too many things to deal with being sheriff and beta to my brother the mayor, to be giddy all the time.

Tobias finishes ringing up the female ahead of me and even though I can sense his internal sigh at seeing me, he still greets me with the same smile he does everyone else, his gossamer lavender wings resting calmly against his back.

Although I know he’s wearing a glamour incase a human enters, as a non-human I’m able to see him as he truly is.

Lavender skin, pointed ears, long white hair and gossamer wings.

“Afternoon Ryder. Same as always, I assume?”

I give him a terse nod, unhooking my black travel mug from my utility belt and hand it to him to fill.

Black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no hazelnut or vanilla or any of the other ridiculous things people add to their coffee.

Tobias takes the plain boring—but useful—travel mug and rings me up for my basic A.F. coffee, as Ginger would put it.

“Are you ever going to let me choose your coffee for you?” Tobias asks.

“Nope.”

“Why not? You might enjoy it.” Tobias raises an eyebrow at me, and I stare back at him flat faced as I always do every time he tries to convince me to order something other than black coffee.

“Glare at me all you want, but it’s true.

If you just try something new maybe you’ll smile more, and possibly even laugh. Could be good for you.”

I shrug and hand him exact change for the coffee. “I smile. When I feel like it.”

“And when would that be? When the roads get snowed in and no one can leave their houses?”

The corner of my mouth twitches. That does sound like heaven. If no one can leave their house, then no one can cause problems and then I don’t have to fix them. I do love a good snow day.

“I’ll wait over here for my coffee.” I circle the colorful and mismatched tile counter and wait at the pick-up station for my black metal travel mug that stands out like the runt of a litter in this explosion of color and patterns.

“Black coffee plain,” Tobias calls out in a bored tone to the barista behind him helping make the drinks.

He doesn’t need to call out my order, but he likes pestering me as much as he can when it comes to my lack luster coffee order. The female barista dutifully fills my travel mug, screwing the lid back in place and setting it on the pick-up counter.

“Have a nice day,” she says, lacking the snark Tobias gives me.

“Thank you.”

I take my mug and stroll out of the shop, ignoring Tobias’s shaking head and sigh. Perhaps I’ll let him pick my order for me once, on his birthday. I imagine the horrendous concoction he would think up and decide, maybe not.

Taking a seat at one of the outdoor folding table and chairs I sip at my coffee until it’s at least halfway gone. I may order simple coffee, but The Ugly Mug has the best beans and even without all the accompaniments, the hot liquid has plenty of flavor.

When it’s settled in my chest and calmed my mind, I figure I’ve fortified myself enough to venture to Dottie’s .

Not to mention, my stomach is starting to growl at me for not feeding it anything but coffee.

Strolling across the street I approach Dottie’s Drive-In Diner, the most popular restaurant in town.

It’s one of two so there’s not much choice but it’s still usually busier than Morning Star Cafe which is only open for breakfast and lunch.