Hair of the WERE: As the Chair Turns, #1

By Eliza March

Magic is real. The fix is in.when Delia lands the hairdressing job of a lifetime. After one taste of faery nectar, the fae knowledge banks open to her. Who knew the town was filled with supernatural beings just fitting in? Frankie, her hot boss, is a Werewolf; the massage therapists are catshifters; her best friends are witches, and Delia likes being human. Her life is about to drastically change.
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A masters in business lands Delia the hairdressing job of a lifetime, but she quickly discovers reality is not what she's always believed. After one little taste of faery nectar, her John Hancock lands on a parchment agreeing to stay silent, and the secret knowledge of the town is suddenly hers. Being human in a town filled with supernatural beings really doesn't suck, especially after finding out magic is real. 

Who knew managing a spa would change her life so drastically? 

The upsides to her life are Aelric, a to die for Coast Guard Captain who reminds everyone of Thor; Frankie, an alpha werewolf boss who's called the heartthrob of South Florida; Garret, a mesmerizing vampire band manager who loves her voice and her music, and her best friends are witches. 

But there are downsides, too. Danger lurks everywhere, and Delia senses someone stalking her.

With her life in turmoil, she's experiencing a little tension. Frankie can't cut hair, and no one can remove the witch's spell on him. They'll need more than magic to pull off the charity hair show, and now her life is developing greater problems than just keeping secrets. 

Her worst nightmare becomes reality when a vampire bite sets off a viral metamorphosis bringing about more than a change in attitude. Being human is all Delia has ever known. Discovering the world is not what it seemed isn't as bad as discovering neither is she. All the "big bads" in the world can't save her if Delia doesn't learn to defend herself. Maybe she can get a little magical help from her friends, and a straight answer from her family. 

Hair of the WERE is part of the ongoing series AS THE CHAIR TURNS.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eliza March
• Release date: Mar 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386271406

Eliza March

Eliza March worked as assistant librarian during college and lived for time in the reading room. Later, when she became a gossip columnist in the Hamptons, she had plenty of fodder for her stories. Now, the award-winning author known for writing contemporary, paranormal, and fantasy romance with sensual content, also writes everything from soul searing, gut-wrenching love stories to downright ridiculously, humorous romance. Eliza enjoys writing multi-genre stories for her fans who love variety. https://ElizaMarch.com https://elmarchbreathlessbooks.wordpress.com https://elizamarch.wordpress.com/e-l-marchauthor/ http://elizamarch.blogspot.com

Book preview

Episode Introduction

Hello. It's nice to meet you. I'm Delia. Short for Adelaide, which, in my opinion, is too old-fashioned sounding for a young business manager in charge of the poshest salon in Boca. I’m of mixed heritage, exactly what sort I don't know. French partially I suspect, to confound my Cuban relatives.

At least one side of my family has a musical/theatrical background. At a hundred plus years, my Great Aunt Edna is still performing in a local cabaret and doesn’t look a day over fifty. We all suspect routine nips and tucks, but you’d never know. Her personal trainer and plastic surgeon are magicians. Not euphemistically...real magicians. I know because I’ve recently been dragged into Boca’s dirty local secret.

Sam, Edna’s handsome husband is still doing character parts in independent films in Miami. His last role was a gun runner for Werewolves—not much of a box office success, but the subject hit a little too close to home for my comfort. Uncle Sam may not know it, but Boca is a city full of paranormal creatures just fitting in. Shifters, werewolves, witches, vampires. The list goes on. You name it...I never know what I’ll bump into on a quiet afternoon or a dark night.

Recently I applied for the very desirable management position at Luna de la Mar Salon and Spa. As it turns out, the fix was in. Just one glitch. They never expected a human to apply.

I am not supposed to know about the inner operations of the town where most of the inhabitants aren’t human. But I’ve come to realize being a human is sometimes an advantage. I keep things going daily without too many problems...until the full moon. Then insanity rules. Our employees go bat-shit crazy. At that point I rearrange schedules like a juggler with a dozen balls in the air.

And...my personal life is a catastrophe. I’m infatuated with two men, and I use that term loosely because at least one is paranormal. The other is a Coast Guard Commander who looks like the god Thor but I’m playing second fiddle to his career. Uncle Sam, his not mine, is impossible to compete with. My heart throb saved my life then ditched me before our first date.

Then there’s Frankie, not technically my boss but Madame de Wolfe’s grandson. He's totally hot for me. He claims I’m making too big a deal out of my principles, but I have scruples about mixing business with pleasure. And believe me, hubba hubba, Frankie is definitely that. Pleasure could be his middle name. Truly, our biggest obstacle to a happily ever after are his monthly pack requirements. Frankie is the alpha werewolf of the local pack, and though I’m not usually selfish, I refuse to stand in line with a bunch of female werewolves vying for his attention.

The one thing that would help my recent problems would be if I manage to get through the next few months without biting or killing anyone, because... Well it's a long story... Settle in for the ongoing saga of As the Chair Turns, the events taking place in and around Luna de la Mar Salon and Spa.

Episode 1 Son of a son...

I hummed along with the band covering Jimmy Buffet tunes at the beach bar while the crowd sang and the sea summoned me. An ache deep in my bones couldn’t resist the longing as I inhaled the scent of Pina Colada tanning oil wafting on the salt-water tinged air.

My lips curled into a wide smile. Mmm. Today was my first beach day since I finished graduate school and I intended to enjoy every minute of it. Once again, one with the sea...

Too poetic? Probably. More precisely, I was one of the hordes of hundreds, perhaps thousands, doing the same thing.

The beach was packed.

Looking for a place to plant myself in the warm sand, I forced the ever-present tension from my mind. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to worry about my job interview. A kiss of sun always does wonders for my tan and my confidence, and the results improve my disposition as well.

Delia. A familiar voice called my name. Ah. My new condo neighbors sat not far from where I stood and there, Heavens to Murgatroyd, was room for my chair right beside them. Perfect.

Come. Sit here, Carrie waved me over and pointed to the space next to her.

Hoping not to trip over anyone, I carefully stepped around a few bodies in my way and put my things down.

Nice hat, Jen, I commented. Obviously not a beach person, she hid beneath an umbrella wearing a large floppy hat, huge sunglasses, and a beach cover up.

Can you say overkill? Strange girl.

She responded with her typical grunt just as a teenage boy jogged by, kicking up sand in her direction. Carrie muttered something that even my sensitive hearing didn't catch, and the sand took a sharp left then dropped like heavy beads of metal. Jen brushed off the imaginary sand from her arms and legs using exaggerated movements.

This place is a zoo, she exclaimed.

"W-what...? I mentally questioned what the heck had just happened, but no one else seemed to notice. Everything was business as usual.

Perplexed, because not a speck of sand had landed anywhere near her, I licked my forefinger, raised it to check the wind direction, and nada. Not much of a breeze at all. Perhaps I have too vivid an imagination. Since Jen had intimidated me from the moment we met—I don’t know why—I decided to keep my mouth shut.

In any case, I was more comfortable around Carrie, who, to prove the similarity in our tastes, wore a bikini almost as tiny as mine and apparently wasn't afraid of a little sun. I turned my attention to her, where she sat exposed to all those UV rays, boldly applying tanning oil.

That’s the cutest suit ever. And it was. I wasn’t just blowing smoke. I love the combination of those specific colors. The pinks and greens reminded me of summer and watermelon.

Not too skimpy? Carrie asked.

Hardly. Mine had half the material.

You'd almost be under dressed on a nude beach, Jen interjected.

I took off my beach shirt and posed. Waddayah think?

Carrie and I burst out laughing while Jen appeared to merely tolerate us, still as sullen as ever.

I love it, Carrie agreed. Jen thinks I should cover up. Tanned skin doesn’t go with her Goth personality.

Ha-ha—very funny, Carrie. Jen cracked the teeniest smile. You’ll both be wrinkled like prunes in a few years, while my skin will remain smooth as a... Never mind. I prefer a light creamy color to my complexion.

She lowered her glasses to make eye contact with me. No offense, Delia, your coloring is perfect. Just don’t forget to moisturize regularly.

I wasn’t sure I believed her flattering remark, but I thanked her just the same. Balayage blonde highlights mixed with my natural sun streaks were my trademark, but they looked best when I had color in my cheeks.

All I want is the sun and sea and a day to relax before my interview. To say I am nervous would be an understatement.

In a way, Jen and Carrie were sort of responsible for my job application. If I hadn’t overheard them talking about the management position opening up where they work, I don’t think they would have mentioned it. The opportunity sort of presented itself...well, not exactly. My mother always accused me of eavesdropping, when actually my hearing was just overly acute. I couldn't help overhearing their conversation in the hall.

Don't tell us you qualified for the interview. Carrie interrupted my thoughts.

Yes. And I should thank you both.

Wait... Carrie said. You passed the written test? They responded in unison, staring at me—incredulity written all over their faces.

I may have misinterpreted their level of surprise before they concealed it. Perhaps not. I'd definitely sensed something, but I wasn't sure what it meant.

Yes... I covered the awkward moment. And I’m so excited.

E-excellent, Jen said carefully and gave Carrie a quick glance, the kind close friends share that make other people uncomfortable. We just didn’t think you’d be interested.

Why not? It's my dream job. Doing hair and managing one of the most famous spas in the world? It’s perfect. Everything I worked for.

Getting an extra degree certainly paid off. Well...could pay off. I was putting the cart before the horse. I still had to interview.

Carrie still sounded uncertain. You were able to read and answer all the questions on the forms? She squinted at me.

Why yes. Of course I could read and answer the questions— I bristled a little at the insinuation. I do have a Master’s in Business Administration. Did she think I was an idiot?

She didn’t mean to insult you, Jen hastily added. It’s just we heard they sometimes add trick questions.

Oh! Well, that makes sense. I sat in the sun and let the heat sooth my ruffled feathers. Come to think of it, there was one question I’ve never seen on a job application before. I was baffled by it at the time.

Really? Carrie gulped. The two young women turned to each other then back at me. Were they holding their breath, waiting? They appeared concerned, tense even.

Nah. What did they have to be worried about with me?

What in the world could they have a-added to the application since we applied? Jen’s voice cracked halfway through her question.

I pulled my hair up into a bun to get it off my neck for an even tan. Jen paid very close attention as I tapped my forefinger against my lips. In the section where it asks for sex, religion, and race. You know the regular stuff. There was a line that asked for species. At first, I thought it was a misprint or typo. But I wrote the only answer I could think of...human. I scrunched my nose and shrugged. What do you think they expected?

Carrie chuckled and reached over and patted my arm. Sounds like that trick question all right.

I got the interview with Sophia de Wolfe, so it must be okay.

You did? Carrie exclaimed. This time, she appeared genuinely stunned. Okay? Delia, have you thought about having to work with Frankie every day? In close proximity?

My stomach tightened and, holy-moly, parts of me I thought were dead from too much accounting came alive at the mention of his name. I had thought about him and...god forgive me...dreamed about him, too. Sweat burst out on my upper lip just recalling what he did to me in those dreams. Even though I wasn’t a practicing Catholic, I crossed myself just for good measure to cover my intentional lie.

It’s not as if Franco de Wolfe has ever been accused of attacking anyone. I waved my hand around like I was brushing away a fly. I can handle him.

Ri-i-ight... Jen snorted beneath her breath. I didn't miss the sarcasm in her voice. Both Jen and Carrie were incredibly attractive, each in their own sultry way, and I estimated them to be about mid to late twenties. Like me. Yet for some reason, they made me feel like a kid. I didn’t think it was intentional. They were just more worldly than I was.

He’s a real...dog and totally irresistible, Carrie warned me.

So what if he’s mouthwateringly delicious. I bit my tongue before I added, I can resist him.

Liar.

My inner female knew me better than my conscious would admit. I’d seen him in action in the salon and around town with women dripping off him like warm honey. I understood why. He had a physique like a Roman god, dark good looks, and Italian charm. Not to mention, he was wealthy beyond imagination. The whole family was. If his grandmother hired me, Frankie would put my scruples to the test.

You have heard about him, right? Jen asked.

Of course. What’s the matter, I asked. Don’t you think I can resist him? You both have. Right?

Carrie scrutinized me as if she’d never seen me before, and both she and Jen wouldn't make eye contact.

What? Both of you? You both did him? My stomach dropped. I was freaked out on one hand and sort of jealous on the other.

My attention spun between them, my gaze whipping back and forth. Carrie I can understand.

She put her hand on her hip. Why me? What do you think I am? Gullible?

No, but you're a sucker for a guy with muscles.

I am, Carrie admitted with a smile, so I didn’t take her attitude to heart.

You like men. Especially rich, hot men. But Jen? I settled on her. You? I never would have figured that you’d be taken in by his charm.

I wasn't taken in. I had an itch that needed scratching. He was available. That’s all. Jen assumed her usual aloof mien, and lazily drawled, He's not bad, but it was just a one-time thing.

Her tone couldn't have been any more blasé. What she quietly added next took me by surprise. He is pretty irresistible.

But he's your boss. He shouldn't...I can't mix business with pleasure, I argued.

Technically, Madame de Wolfe is our boss. And you think you can resist him? Better women than you have tried and failed. I can attest to that. Jen tapped a long fingernail on her cheek.

I c-can handle him, I stuttered as Carrie gave me a sympathetic, yet condescending grin.

What? I asked.

Nothing...nothing at all, she said.

I wish you the best. Jen shoved her glasses on her nose and leaned back in her sand chair.

I was beginning to think I was in trouble. Carrie lowered her lashes and whispered, He’s really, really good. Then she sighed dreamily. We just didn’t gel. I’m not the settling down kind and neither is he. But if you get the job and need any advice... She glanced at Jen.

...we’ll be there for you. Jen gave me a slow thumbs up. I can’t wait to hear about your interview tomorrow night.

How did you know my interview was at night?

There was an awkward pause in the conversation before she cleared her throat and explained, It’s too busy during the day to interview.

Uh—oh. Right. I decided to drop the subject and relax, but within a few minutes, the sun's rays scorched my body.

Anyone interested in a little body surfing? I asked as I stood. I could use a little stress-relief. Hitting the waves would be a good way to cool off and work off my building tension.

"I’m not all that