Page 7 of Wishing for a Werewolf
I roll down the window and stick out my head. “You guys have to look before crossing the street!” There aren’t many cars—downtown is more of a pedestrian area—but the flowers still need to watch out.
Their long leaves flap in agitation, and they start to move more quickly. Hurrying onto the grass and over to the nearest flower bed, they sink their roots into the ground to sleep for the night.
I pull up in front of the town bookshop, I Touch My Shelf, and grab my canvas bags of cocktail mixings. The glass bottles clink happily as I jump out of Tank and hip-bump the door shut.
The shop’s wooden door opens onto one of my favorite places in the world, the scent of paper and ink and leather filling the air. A mixed hodgepodge of Tiffany lamps brightens the store with colorful light, wooden bookshelves line the walls, and a cozy seating area of gold and burgundy covered sofas beckons.
I grin as I navigate around display tables topped with the latest bestsellers, including ones dedicated to orcs and shadow daddy fae. “I love your priorities, Naomi!”
“What can I say?” My friend looks over from where she’s standing behind the shop’s wooden counter, her pretty brown face breaking into a huge smile. “I love me some orc.”
“That’s because you’re lucky enough to be married to one.”
One of the witches taken to Faerie several months ago, Naomi discovered her ability to teleport and got a hunky orc husband who adores the ground she walks on. She closes the old brass cash register with a clang and hurries over to me.Short and deliciously plump, she’s dressed in orc clothing, leather pants and boots and an embroidered tunic top I’d kill for, since it’s so perfectly my style.
As she wraps me in a warm hug, her deep-brown curls tickle my cheek. Then she pulls back. “You making your cereal-milk cocktails?”
“Yep!”
“Thank god. Orc cider is nice, but a girl misses chocolaty alcohol goodness sometimes.”
“One cocoa puffs white Russian coming up.” I head over to the table that holds the little coffee station and start pulling cereal milks and liquors out of my bag.
“Hello my fellow Witch Bitches!” Hannah carols from the door. Tall and thin, my friend still wears her “small-town mayor” uniform, a tailored blouse and dark-washed jeans. Her long brown hair hangs perfectly straight and glossy—I tried to iron my hair into that look back in high school, and it never held, my waves just as stubborn as the rest of me.
“It’s time for Spicy Book Club!” a breathless voice says behind me as Skye enters the shop, carrying a wide tray of treats. My bestie makes the yummiest vanilla cupcakes, moist and light and topped with rich buttercream frosting. Her platinum blonde hair is in a cute 50s style, which goes perfectly with the red rockabilly dress and retro pumps she wears, showcasing her plus-sized curves to perfection. Matching lipstick sets off her pale skin, bare of the freckles I’ve been blessed—or cursed—with. How I feel about them depends on my mood on any given day.
The two of them converge on me, tackling me in a hug from either side, and I relax for the first time since the messat the Wishing Well. Whatever that was, I’ll figure it out with the help of my friends.
While I start mixing drinks, Skye uses the extra baggies of cereal I brought to add sprinkles to her cupcakes. The group is fairly evenly split between liking my cinnamon crunch cocktails, crunch berry cocktails, and cocoa puffs white Russians.
By the time more of the witches pour through the door, we’ve got the first round ready. I share a secret smile with Skye—this is our thing, making matching cocktails and cupcakes for our friends to enjoy—and the witchy meetings mean we get to do it on a regular basis.
Tall and plump, Kayla grabs a drink and knocks back a big gulp. Tonight’s T-shirt reads:If I look bored, it’s because I’m talking to you. She blows a lock of purple hair off a pale cheek and sighs. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Long day?” Violeta asks, her tan face making a tiny pout of solidarity. She brushes her highlighted brown hair back over her shoulder, showing off her pint-sized curves.
“Yeah, the new game I’m working on is being a pain.”
“Bitch, you know you’ll work it out.” Jasmine hip bumps Kayla, tall enough to do so easily. Her beautiful brown face breaks into a huge grin, offset by her bright pink shirt and a satin headwrap that turns her dark hair into a fountain of curls on top of her head. “You always do.”
The rest of the gang enters in a rush, and I hand drinks to Willow, Rachel, Abril, Madison, Emily, and Destiny. Then I grab a crunch berry cocktail and matching cupcake and squeeze onto one of the sofas between Hannah and Skye.
After everyone’s had a chance to take a few bites,Hannah says, “I call this meeting of the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club to order.”
“Anybody got any witchy stuff, or do we actually get to talk about a book?” Skye asks, the librarian in her hopeful about the latter.
Everyone else says no, and Skye pulls a paperback from her purse.
“Yeah, sorry,” I say. “But I might have witchy stuff.”
Hannah squeals, “You got your power?”
“Maybe?” I give a quick grimace. “I’m not sure.”
Jasmine leans forward. “Spill, girlfriend.”
So I tell them all about making wishes at the Wishing Well and the rush of magic that made me swoon.
