Coyote Inn

By Tressie Lockwood

Jarrika has inherited an inn at the base of a beautiful mountain in Oregon, or so she thinks. When she gets there, the angry and cold owner, sexy coyote shifter Jack Summers, tells her she’s the victim of an elaborate lie. Destitute with no idea what she will do next, Jarrika is dependent on Jack’s good graces. She buys time at the inn using her cooking skills to feed the bottomless pit that is Jack and his pet coyote Casey. When time doesn’t heal all wounds, the ghost of Jack’s great-grandmother must bring together an emotionally scarred shifter and the woman meant to be his mate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tressie Lockwood
• Release date: Feb 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507052020

Book preview

Chapter One

When Jarrika stepped off the bus in the middle of her new hometown, she didn’t know what to expect—people being neighborly, kids running around, maybe. What she got was tossed into the middle of the past. Neat rows of houses lined the streets, all similar in style and size. Lawns were manicured, and there must have been a rule book somewhere about what to include in the décor, because at each driveway lay a bicycle turned on its side like the rider had just dashed inside for a quick homemade snack from Mom. She half expected a 1950s Oldsmobile to come rolling around the corner, but prayed it wouldn’t. Were there even any black people in this town?

Jarrika shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and gripped her suitcase’s handle. With any luck, the raggedy thing would hold up until she reached her destination. At the end of the residential street, above the trees, Jarrika spotted the mountains beyond. She smiled as hope swelled in her chest. If the people were as friendly as the land was beautiful, everything would be okay in Oregon. This move had to work out because she was out of money and out of resources.

Once Jarrika stopped to check the address she’d been given against the nearest house. She groaned realizing she had another five blocks at least. When sweat poured down her back from the beaming sun and her physical exertion, Jarrika stopped. The neatly paved road had turned to partial gravel, then to full-out dirt. The lawns on this end were a tad less cared for, and the houses farther in between.

Spotting a building at the end of the block that was in desperate need of a paint job among other repairs, Jarrika pleaded with God that this was not Coyote Inn. You can’t be so cruel, she said to her maker. He didn’t answer, and sure enough, the joke was on her.

When she was close enough, she noticed the sign above the wraparound porch. One side had come loose, so it dangled, faded and worn. If she squinted, she could make out the Inn part, but most of the letters in Coyote were missing.

Great, she muttered. I’ve inherited a stupid inn that nobody with half a brain would ever want, let alone visit.

A low growl behind her made her spin around and stumble back to fall onto the steps. The wood under her cracked, but Jarrika was focused on the animal with its teeth bared and eyes so pale they creeped her out. Her throat went dry, and she held up a hand, hoping it wouldn’t set the beast off. Good boy. I’m not an enemy. You don’t want to eat me.

The animal inched closer.

Jarrika squeaked. Help? Anyone around here? Please!

The door behind her opened, and when the animal looked to see who was coming through, Jarrika took the opportunity to scramble up the steps and leap behind the man standing there. She gripped the man’s arm and peeked out. You have a gun or something? I think it’s a wolf.

Is that how you city folks handle your problems? he asked. Just shoot it?

He almost attacked me, and you’re just standing there. She hadn’t removed her eyes from the animal. Since the man came on the scene, the thing acted like it hadn’t a moment ago been sizing her up as its next meal. The stupid beast had the nerve to sit down as if it was simply enjoying the fresh air. Hadn’t she just walked down from civilization with the lawns and the bikes and whatnot? What was this?

For your information, the man said, still not moving to help her, he’s a coyote. And he’s mine. I have no intension of shooting him. Now, mind telling me what you’re doing on my property, miss?

Your property! Forgetting the creepy pet, she rounded on the man, at last giving him a once-over, and promptly forgot what she was going to say. She was pretty tall for a woman at five foot ten, but this man was taller, at least six-four. He was all lean muscle, not an inch of fat that she could see, no weight wasted. His chiseled jaw appeared cut from steel, bristled like he shaved with a knife—when he felt like it. What unsettled her most was that his eyes matched those of the coyote, being pale and hard like he didn’t give a crap about her or anyone else.

His shirt hung open to the waist, showing off rock-solid abs, and the aforementioned knife was tucked in the band of his slacks. Jarrika wanted to look lower but was too nervous to. She took a step back. Tall-and-Dangerous reached into the bowl in his hand and removed a scrap of meat. He turned toward the coyote, allowing her to see that he had pulled long, silken black hair into a ponytail on his back. He whistled, and the animal came bounding up like a pet dog.

The fact that he ignored her pissed Jarrika off, so she went down to lug her suitcase onto the porch. Seeing she struggled, the man made no move to help her. Swearing he’d be all apologies when she showed him just who belonged here and who didn’t, she snapped open the case and searched around for the manila envelope she’d tucked there before leaving for her trip.

The coyote came up to nose around in the case. To Jarrika’s embarrassment the mangy mutt snagged a pair of her panties and took off with them. Jarrika jumped to her feet. Hey!

Casey, get back here, the man yelled, but the animal kept running and soon disappeared.

Jarrika glared at him. You owe me a pair of panties.

He ogled her up and down, the interest in his eyes annoying her. "I’m sure