Page 1 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

CHAPTER ONE

What was an independent,former city gal to do after signing up to be a backwoods veterinarian?

As far as proper procedure, I was still in the dark, but I’d found my way into the local bookstore, where I’d discovered—and purchased—a copy of theBackwoods Survival Guide. No shit, there was a ginormous book dedicated to that very subject. Not to complain, as it’d been super-duper informative thus far, but the “Practical Advice for the Simple Life” tagline seemed like false advertising, as the advice was neither practical nor simple.

The town name seemed to be a misnomer, too, as I’d seen all of zero waterfalls during my first week in Guadalupe Falls, Massachusetts. What I had seen was an abundance of extra tall, spiky pines with a side of oak and birch trees. The waitress at the local diner cheerily informed me their tiny town sat smack dab in the Bridgewater Triangle, which was “a total hotbed for paranormal activity.” Suddenly the sign welcoming people to town, with its caricatures of Bigfoot, aliens, and a Pac-Man ghost riding what looked like a frisbee, made sense.

In the same way the guidebook did. As in, people actually believed in this stuff?

I suppose if Iweregoing to jump aboard the crazy train, I’d choose bumping into Bigfoot over scavenging for berries on his behalf. A bit of googling also unearthed incidences of animal mutilations, cult activity, and a cursed swamp with a name that meant “where spirits dwell.” In hindsight, I really should’ve researched the area more before diving headfirst.

You wanted a fresh start, away from all the memories that held you hostage, and this one is as alien as the little green men who allegedly carved those markings on Dighton Rock.

The strands that’d escaped my ponytail fell into my eyes, tinting everything brown— well,cinnamonbrown according to the box I’d used to add some oomph to my color. It didn’t help with the soupy humidity, though, so by the end of the day, my hair ended up half curly, half straight, and 100 percent frizzy.

It was a slow afternoon at the animal clinic that still donned the name of the veterinarian who’d sold me the place, so I hefted the survival guidebook and turned to chapter two. Even though the edible plants hardly looked appetizing, my stomach growled. It was a sad day in chilly ol’ hell when a salad without dressing, bacon bits, or croutons caused tummy rumbling.

At this rate, I’ll starve before I can afford a new sign, much less groceries.

I’d heard the stats. Half of new businesses failed within the first few years. But Dr. Vaughn had sweetened the deal with his roster of clients. Problem was, all but about five had immediately transferred to the only other vet in town, citing they were more comfortable going to a doctor they already knew.

Who was male.

Well, they didn’t admit that part, but I saw it in their eyes after they gave me the once-over. Probably didn’t help that I was twenty-six with the height and boobs of a thirteen-year-old. What I didn’t have up top, I made up for in booty size, which also meant finding pants was akin to torture. Seriously, whoevermade my body had just grabbed two random halves, stuck them together, and declared itgood enough.

Determination flooded every inch of my five-foot-two-inch frame. No letting the outsider vibes bring me down. I’d earned a doctorate degree and weathered the internship from hell to get to where I was today.

As in purchasing a clinic so I could be my own boss, not so much the middle-of-nowhere locale.

After performing tasks like sorting through puppy poop for an antique ring, cupping my hands in time for a dog to puke into them, and conducting a private cremation ceremony for a cat’s amputated tail, nothing much fazed me anymore.

“Bring on the challenges. I can take them,” I said to the empty clinic, not appreciating the way the walls echoed them back at me. Surely the snarky tone was only my imagination, but considering not even the room respected me, I wasn’t sure this was the upgrade to my career I thought it’d be.

I’ll win the people over. I can be very charming.

When my lack of thinking before I speak doesn’t get the best of me.

I could hear Mom’s voice in my head, the phrase she repeated so often I automatically rolled my eyes.Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out.

Grams would then argue that if people didn’t know their weaknesses, some fiery Tabasco sauce would inspire them to address it faster.

Grief rose, a string that bound my lungs. We’d lost Mom way too early to an automobile accident, leaving my maternal grandmother to raise me. It’d been just the two of us for nearly a decade, up until four months ago when Grams passed away. I’d wanted to stomp my foot over the unfairness of it all. I hardly had any family as it was, and now I’d been left without anyone.

My throat tightened, and tears burned my eyes.

No crying, in case someone comes in during the last—I glanced at the noisy clock ticking away on the opposite, slightly dingy wall—twenty-eight minutes of the workday.

Not that I was overly eager to return to my equally empty house. While the clinic I’d sunk my entire savings into looked exactly like the pictures I’d clicked through online, the cabin I’d rented sight unseen was unsightly, to say the least. The floorboards creaked as if I weighed as much as an African bush elephant—the heaviest land mammal tipped the scales at twice what the oft-used hippo did—and the heating unit squalled like a banshee that was way too excited about foretelling my death.

Which would likely be at the hands of the sparking oven.

I’d found out the hard way that using the microwave and stovetop at the same time overloaded the antique electrical system. I rubbed my thumb across the puckered red skin that marred the back of my wrist. On a good day, I was pale, but since I hadn’t spent much time outside this summer, I was reaching Casper levels.

Guess I should pencil in tanning on my rotting front porch on my to-do list.

Exhaustion tugged at me, and I gave in, plunking myself on the nearby roller chair and enjoying the glide across the tile before bumping into the heavy duty, electrical lift exam table. When Dr. Vaughn handed over the keys, he’d muttered something about occasionally working on larger animals. I hadn’t treated many horses and cows, but I’d studied the anatomy and knew my way around internal organs, regardless of the disposition.

“Guess I’ll take another trip to the bookstore and find a manual on home repairs.” The talking to myself thing wasn’t new. I’d always been a bit of a lone wolf, which sometimes meant my inner thoughts were outer ones, too. And yeah, I could search up YouTube tutorials, but I was a highlight and tab kinda gal.

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