Page 1 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

ChapterOne

Willow

If I never have to look at another poster, coffee mug, or keychain with Gavin Reese’s face on it, it’ll still be too soon. I grab a handful of bookmarks with the offending visage splashed across them and toss them haphazardly into the storage box I have gripped in my other hand.

Pausing, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

Setting the box on the floor, I squat down and straighten the jumble of bookmarks into a neat stack so they won’t get damaged. I might need them next year if Evening Shade decides to host thesecondannual Cursed convention.

I blow out a harsh breath. I need more coffee.

Leaving the box on the floor, I weave through the racks and shelves until I reach the common area between the two halves of Moonstone Mystic. Pausing to look around and breathe in the glorious scent of freshly ground coffee beans and steaming espresso, I take a moment to center myself.

This place is my baby. I put everything I had into it, physically, financially, and emotionally, and all the hard work has paid off in spades. Half-coffeehouse and half-metaphysical-supply-shop-slash-souvenir-store, Moonstone Mystic has been a hit with both locals and tourists alike since I opened its doors several years ago.

And I refuse to let the return of a certain Hollywood playboy ruin the peace and tranquility this space has always provided for me.

The convention is over. The crowds have dispersed, and I can finally pack away all the Cursed memorabilia I stocked the shelves with for the event.

And best of all, Gavin Reese, the star of the movie trilogy and reason for my rotten mood, has left Evening Shade for good…or at least until possibly this time next year.

And he took his gorgeous co-star, Julia Warner, with him.

I head behind the coffee counter and start steaming some milk for my latte. My mind wanders as my gaze drifts to the street outside Moonstone Mystic’s windows.

Evening Shade has changed so much since those movies were filmed here over a decade ago. I was a teenager back then, but even being so young, I knew my hometown’s economy was struggling. When some big-time movie producers approached our mayor and the town council, seeking permission to film three teen-flick werewolf movies here, our leaders jumped at the chance to put this sleepy little town on the map.

And boy, did it work.

Curse, Phase, and Wane were all filmed in less than a year, but the imprint they made on this town has been long-lasting. The franchise quickly became a bit of a phenomenon, and CursedCubs––that’s what members of the fandom call themselves––started visiting in droves. It wasn’t long before key members of the town started leaning into the hysteria, including my own grandfather, who renamed his sad little motel “The Quarter Moon Inn,” and never looked back. The owner of Evening Shade’s only bar followed suit, renaming the establishment “Wolfsbane Tavern” after the fictional name it held in the movies.

When the tourism became too intrusive, with tourists trampling over private property to take pictures of their favorite movie locations, the town invested in a bus and began offering guided tours in an effort to set limits and make a little extra cash off the frenzy.

And it worked.

Every weekend, the inn––now owned by my brother, Trace, after Grandpa left it to him in his will––is filled to capacity, along with several rental properties Grandpa invested in before he passed away a few years ago. My store, the tavern, and all the other businesses in Evening Shade have prospered.

Those movies changed everything for this town, but they also changed everything forme.

And not necessarily in a good way.

But no one knows that. Not even Trace.

And I plan to keep it that way.

* * *

Twelve Years Ago…

“This is so freaking cool!” I mutter under my breath, looking at the lights, backdrops, cameras, and microphones surrounding a small patch of Evening Shade’s ancient little graveyard.

The film crew’s security team is used to seeing me loitering around the edges of whatever set they’re filming in on any given day, so they simply nod in my direction as I walk around the perimeter with wide, star-filled eyes.

My sixteen-year-old heart starts to pound when I spot Julia Warner, the actress who plays the film’s heroine, Aria, just a few feet away. She’s so gorgeous with her shiny black hair and big, amber eyes. A lady with a large bag strapped across her body is using a large puff to pat powder across Julia’s nose and cheeks.

Those golden eyes snap in my direction, and I stiffen. Julia cocks her head, then murmurs something to the makeup assistant before striding in my direction. My breath catches in my throat, and I have to force myself to breathe as she approaches so I won’t do something stupid…like pass out right in front of her.

“Hey,” she says, stopping on just the other side of the makeshift barrier between the movie set and the real world. “I’m Julia.”

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