Panties, Calamities and Hungry Creatures: Grimstone Island, #3

By Rochelle Pearson

***BOOK 3***

A paranormal romantic comedy 

WELCOME MORTALS TO GRIMSTONE!

Are you being held against your will?

I, Kokoa Lovell don't do dates. So what drove me to actually agree on going on one with a kinky dragon who may or may not be carrying around polaroids of my butt?

Well...
   
    Nerves rattling and palms sweating, as the time approaches for me to leave for our dinner date, I realize it may not be so bad once I'm alone with the hunky dragon. And yet odd things begin to occur at the restaurant that causes  me to rethink the entire night to be a colossal joke.
    There's a suspicious substitute waiter, a costume clad couple with a staring problem, and not to mention the disorderly satyr creep who doesn't understand  that the she-wolf gets ANGRY when her food gets stolen!
   
    Will the night end in a major bust and make me lose the last ounce of sanity or---nah, there isn't a positive option.

Cheers to a chaotic evening!
 

*Warning: For readers 18+. Contains sexual content and explicit language/dialogue.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rochelle Pearson
• Release date: Jun 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386339052

Book preview

Adela

/Ad·dell·uh/

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Noun

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A magic enriched tree made entirely of obsidian rock, rooted in a moat of salt water; located near the east side edge on a supernaturally inhabited island called Grimstone. Created by six supernatural beings known as The Hallow Six, the tree’s power hides the island’s identity from mortals, and allows the walking dead to bask in sunlight without fear of turning into dust or in need of sunblock. Merfolk can shed their fins for adequate limbs to properly ride tandem bicycles. The tree is mainly known to represent the freedom of magic, the overabundance of preternatural life, and unity of any and all creatures, living or undead, among the Island of Grimstone.

...Although Adela’s alliance with the very place unites and encourages free lifestyles for the things that go bump in the night—chaos is always near to disrupt the order of peace. After all, it is the land of the monsters.

Chapter One

There are occasions after particularly doing something, you realize that you’re not good at it, so you file it away upon the next time it may arise again. One trial and error. Got it, never doing that again–especially in public. For instance, I can’t walk and drink simultaneously without finding the littlest thing to trip on, my arms flailing windmill style before going down like a drunken ice skater.

Or one hand squirt mustard on a weenie while maneuvering through stop ’n’ go traffic during after-holiday sales.

Nor could I pop my private areas in fast rhythm in front of a room full of other crotch jerking people at ten o’clock in the morning.

"Thrust it! Thrust it! Nice job, everyone. Move it, move it!" yells an ostrich-faced woman.

My type of workout, Lucas states near my ear. I cringe and tried to focus on our thin, long necked instructor.

Pump it faster, everyone! she squawks.

Aw, man. She’s making eyes at me, Lucas murmurs.

Zip it, Piper seethes from his other side.

I would back her up but I was seething myself towards the fairy. It was her stupid ass idea to horridly leave the cabin’s comfortable confines to go to a dance class at ParaFitness. It was her posed destination for us, the three fuck-a-teers, to exploit our over decade long friendship.

Again, stupid.

You know what strengthens friendships? Hint, it sure as hell ain’t exercise.

It’s food.

Wake me up for a full breakfast buffet and I’ll break out my uncle’s banjo and sing how much you’re the best over a stack of flapjacks.

Because now, for one, I’m sweaty and pissy. And second, you’ve got Lucas turning the situation icky. He wore a bright blue spandex shirt and–oh, my poor eyes–matching tights. Lacking the so-called John Travolta moves he earlier stated, Lucas needed to realize that was his not so good at in public moment and needed to file it away.

At least for others’ sakes.

Ostrich chick still encouraged the class–although, I don’t disagree with the type of moves. Booty poppin’ is fun and everything–it’s just all about location, location, location. Put me in the club and I’ll thrust it till the world ends.

ParaFitness, our current spot, accommodated many of these type of classes. Each in wide, wood floor open spaces. Your typical dance room; large windows, a wall containing a ceiling to floor mirror–reflecting awkward bodies lined up in rows, and a sound system that blasted heavy bass. Back to the damned reflector, me and my friends were dead center. Piper to left, Elven tall, lithe, her dark green hair in a braid, making her pointed ears stand out and sparkling wings emphasized against an all black stretchy getup. Lucas, the shaggy blond merman, in the middle. Smiling creepily and winking at himself. And then there’s me... the short, platnim blonde she-wolf, donning visual disorientating neon pink and an expression that read "someone get me a damn breakfast burrito.

The bird-shifter lady clapped her hands.

Ooookaaay, everyone! Hands on your hips. You’re gonna rotate them, still thrusting–clockwise, like this! Jut them out at each point, like so, in cadence to the beat–five, six, seven, eight–begin!

We did as told, simple enough. I didn’t put much into it. I acclimated those below average tendencies from grade school. Just get by, don’t think about the snail crawling time. I sent Piper a look in the mirror–you owe me.

She blew a kiss.

The instructor wandered through the rows, critiquing and praising. She got to Lucas, standing in front. His face took on I’m so sexy, check me out, as he moved provocatively.

Very good, Lucas! she says.

Why, thank you, he replies, lustily, dazzling with a smile. Which she promptly refused and walked on.

You’re such a creep, I tell him. Did he not hear she’d been telling everyone very good as well? The lady’s man wore blinders to some regard.

Gods, Kokoa your jealousy is ripe this morning, he says.

What jealousy? I didn’t want the bird lady.

"Of my moves. Lucas jumps in mid turn against me as he continues thrusting. Follow my lead and you wouldn’t feel the need to hide insecurity behind poorly executed insults."

It was subpar and get your spandex suffocating dinky away from me. I glare ahead, giving him five seconds. Already food deprived and suffering from chaffing, fishboy was gonna get it.

Can’t handle all this? he whispers. From the mirror, I saw he focused on my temple, narrowing his gaze. What did he think he’d achieve? Lasering his weirdness into my skull?

Lucas, I say.

Both of you knock it off. Piper leans over to whisper-yell.

He started it!

Tell her to participate better. Lucas didn’t let up.

Tell him to take the sock out of his pants!

A short HA! burst from Lucas right in my face. Nice one–if it were true! Why don’t you focus on not being a slacker and act like you’ve got more ass to shake.

I gasp. You take that back!

After all the trouble Piper went through to get us these spots in class–

What trouble?! My face scrunches. Dancers close by, glance at us, nervously. A few, back away. Ostrich teacher blinks, not sure whether to engage. It took Piper two minutes to sign up online!

Hey! she snaps. I was dealing with a bad wifi connection and was in risk of getting bumped back to the home screen. It was like defusing a time bomb.

Oh, excuuuuse me. I straighten and toss my arms up, accidently–or not–smacking Lucas in the chin.

Asshole! he cries.

I JUST WANT A DAMN PANCAKE! I shout back.

Is there a Kokoa Lovell, in here? someone calls.

I swivel to the new voice. It belongs to a male zombie at the open doorway. He’s buff, pale green skinned in a ParaFitness employee shirt that shows off a bulging ripped flesh-muscle tissue exposed-physique.

I’m Kokoa! I raise my hand.

"He meant Bitch Lovell." Lucas snorts. I flick his right cornea.

OW! MY EYE!

The zombie guy waves me over. You’re needed outside.

Piper and I exchange a glance. She shrugs. I follow the man into the large gym lobby, bustling with people coming and going grasping energy drinks and duffel bags.

Guy’s out there. He nods a stitched laced jaw towards the glass double doors. Guy? I knew many. One of my brothers? Was it Gavin? Not Jonathan. He was still absent. Whomever, would receive an enthusiastic hug, their disruption a reprieve from the choke hold I was about to unleash on Lucas.

But then again, why didn’t they come inside?

I push through the thick doors, and into Monday’s hustle. The weekday brought sunshine, a pleasant warmth and a not so overpowering cool breeze. The sidewalk in front of the large gym building absorbed the many creatures beating the cement, some hurried, others lazily trudging by like the few nine foot ogres with massive ground shaking feet. Behind them, a centaur and unicorn chatted animatedly. Above, spellcasters traveled on broomsticks; purple and gold smoke left in their trail. My