Howl for the Holidays

By Bridget Essex

Georgia’s past mistakes still haunt her, and on her way home for Christmas, she runs into the girl who’d stolen her heart, bewitching, beautiful Carol. Now, fifteen years later, Carol is hardly happy to see her. And as a snowstorm moves over the Maine coast, Georgia and Carol find themselves reliving the past...and wondering if they might still have a future together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rose and Star Press
• Release date: Feb 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463289402

Bridget Essex

Bridget Essex is the author of the beloved Knight Legends series. A lesbian author of lesbian romance and fantasy, she is passionate about love and love stories because she is married to her soul mate, author Natalie Vivien.Bridget is best known for her paranormal love stories and her fantasy novels, and she tries to bring magic and passion to everything she writes. She believes that a good book can transport you and help ease your heart, and she strives to write heart-warming fiction you can escape to and feel safe in.You can find out more about her work at http://BridgetEssex.wordpress.com or add her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/bridgetessexauthor

Book preview

Howl for the Holidays

by Bridget Essex

Synopsis:

Can a painful mistake from the past lead to a happily ever after?

When Georgia was eighteen, she cut ties with her life in Pine Springs, Maine. She grew up in the tiny town, and grew more and more restless as the years passed by. She never fit in. Like most of the residents, Georgia was a werewolf, but she felt uncomfortable in her wild wolf form. She wanted to go somewhere else, anywhere else.

So she did, but leaving meant leaving behind the girl who'd stolen her heart, bewitching, beautiful Carol, who was as wild and graceful as a wolf herself.

Now, fifteen years later, on her way back to Pine Springs to visit her family for Christmas, Georgia stops to buy coffee and runs into a familiar face—Carol. But Carol is hardly happy to see her. And as a snowstorm moves over the Maine coast, Georgia and Carol find themselves reliving the past...and wondering if they might still have a future together.

Full of poignant holiday memories and a smoldering across-the-years romance, HOWL FOR THE HOLIDAYS is a heartwarming novella to get you into the holiday spirit.

Howl for the Holidays

© Bridget Essex 2016

Rose and Star Press

Smashwords First Edition

All rights reserved

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"You want how many extra espresso shots?" The barista stares at me with huge eyes, as if I've just asked him to fill up a kiddie pool with coffee.

Hmm. A kiddie pool full of coffee.

I...would be totally fine with that.

Eleven shots extra, please, I say, giving him what I hope comes across as a nice, normal smile—with a nice, normal amount of teeth.

My mother always warns me that, before I've had my coffee, I'm in danger of making mistakes, of accidentally revealing what I truly am.

But come on—aren't we all wolves before we down our morning cup of joe?

Sure. Eleven... Sure. The barista marks the cup with a Sharpie and avoids my gaze, which makes me think that my smile may be slightly more pointy than I'd intended for it to be. I don't carry a purse, which means I don't carry a mirror, so I just frown a little and touch my tongue to my incisors. Nope, still normal, human-shaped teeth.

So what's this dude's problem?

He must just think I'm weird for wanting eleven espresso shots.

Maybe I am, but usually I ask for twenty.

Here's something you need to know about werewolves: we're strong, fierce, fast, and smart (and loyal—we get that from our canine cousins twice removed), but coffee helps us be all of these things with more energy.

I guess we're a little like humans in that regard.

I toe out the closest chair at the closest table to the pick-up-your-coffee area and check my wristwatch, nose wrinkled with worry. Okay, whew...I'm still way ahead of schedule. I set my alarm for four o'clock this morning—and then I put the clock on the other side of my apartment so that I wouldn't be able to throw my pillow at it and ignore its annoying scream.

I have time to wait; I'm just impatient. My leg jiggles, and I fold my hands over my belly, leaning in the chair and balancing it on its two back legs. I want to get to my mother's house before the holiday traffic really hits. Plus, Mom is holding her annual Christmas Eve fundraiser, and she's hinted to me more than once that she's going to need my help to make sure it all runs smoothly.

Call it a hunch, but my wolf instincts—or maybe just past experiences—tell me that I'm in for a long, long holiday break.

I have espresso for Georgia! the barista calls out, lining up several large paper cups on the counter. The pleasant scent of the espresso merges with soy milk and vanilla syrup, and steam curls toward me like a beckoning finger. I stand, rising almost to my toes, following the scent kind of like a cartoon wolf chasing after the perfume of a gorgeous lady: practically floating.

Wait...

Wait just a second.

I stop floating, stand grounded on the balls of my feet, tilting my nose up in the air to catch the aroma of something besides my delicious espresso.

Then I turn, gazing toward the rest stop's automatic doors.

Yeah. The scent's clear as crystal. Crap.

I smell another werewolf.

I swipe the cups of espresso, four in total, from the counter, cradling three of them in my arms and taking a quick sip from the one in my hand, promptly scalding the roof of my mouth as I glance toward the exit.

Wolves have great senses of smell, so it's no surprise that werewolves do, too, even when we're in our human forms. But werewolves aren't the same as our animal counterparts in every respect. For example, wolves and dogs greet each other by smelling, well...butts.

I'm glad to say that werewolves have evolved past that social custom.

But we are expected to greet one another—with a hello rather than an invasive sniff. I haven't had my morning coffee yet, though, and, frankly? Yeah, I'm being kind of an antisocial jerk, but I'm not in the mood to make pleasant conversation with some stranger just because they happen to share my species.

You know that feeling: when you spot an acquaintance in the grocery store, and you know you should say hi, should ask them how their partner/kids/cats are doing...but you feel awful, you're wearing ratty sweatpants and a sweatshirt with the stains of last night's burrito on it, and you are seriously not into the whole small-talk thing?

I'm having that feeling.

I'm exhausted, have been driving for hours. I