You Can't Furry Love: Peculiar Mysteries and Romances, #10

By Renee George

I'm a werewolf ... at least until someone strips me of my ability to shift. Guess what? It turns out I'm a witch-born lycan, and when my magic kicks in, that's when things get really hairy.

Yeah, so, my life is complicated, okay? I'm a shapeshifting college student. Social life? Um, no. I don't have time for friends or parties while I'm studying my tail off and howling at the full moon every month. Then two days before my birthday, the ex-alpha of my former pack sends his goons to wolf-nap me.

Luckily, I don't have to face my troubles alone. A certain hunky, albeit grumpy, coyote shifter wants to be my knight in shining fur. Rowr. And my bio dad and stepmom have my back no matter what. But when a hometown psychic sends me to a wise woman in Oklahoma, long-kept family secrets are exposed. Not to mention uncovering the super creepy plan put into play the day I was born.

You know what? My enemies are about to find out that life is a witch.

And so am I.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renee George
• Release date: Oct 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223247753

Renee George

Join Renee's Newsletter and never miss another new release! Sign Up Here--> https://www.renee-george.com/about-renee/newsletter About Renee: USA Today Bestselling author Renee George writes paranormal mysteries and romances because she loves all things whodunit, Otherworldly, and weird. Also, she wishes her pittie, the adorable Kona, could talk. Or at least be more like Scooby-Doo and help her unmask villains at the haunted house up the street. When she’s not writing about mystery-solving werecougars or the adventures of a hapless psychic living among shapeshifters, she is preyed upon by stray kittens who end up living in her house because she can't say no to those sweet, furry faces. (Someone stop telling them where she lives!) She resides in Mid-Missouri with her family and spends her non-writing time doing really cool stuff...like watching TV and cleaning up dog poop. Connect with Renee George! Join Renee's Rebel Readers (Facebook Group): https://www.facebook.com/groups/reneesunusualsuspects/ Like "Renee George, Author" fan page: https://www.facebook.com/authorreneegeorge Follow Renee on Twitter: @reneegeorge2008 Website: http://www.renee-george.com Instagram: author_renee_george Author Note: For readers who have enjoyed reading my books and taken the time to share their love in reviews, thank you so much! I can't tell you how much it means to me to know my work is valued. Hugs, Renee George

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Etta – and the hits keep coming….

Iskirted the corner of the taco truck on Warren Street before ducking into the alley. Steam piping up from the sewer vents created a ghostly fog, hiding my retreat. Cordell Perkins followed me, and I wished like hell there were fewer people on the street tonight. The jerk was out for blood, and I worried about bystanders getting caught in the crossfire. He’d come at me in the Butter Daisy Diner four blocks away, flashing a gun in my direction. It was a shock to see him after all these years, and for a brief moment, I was too dumbfounded to act.

Luckily, my training and survival instincts had kicked in before he could reach me. I’d escaped out the back door and had been trying to evade him for the past half hour. Unfortunately, the man was relentless. I pulled my backpack closer to my shoulder and dashed down another alleyway.

There was a man, probably homeless, lying near a closed door, one scruffy tennis shoe on, the other off and sitting a few inches away from his bare foot. To a human, he might appear dead, but I was a lycanthrope. My eyesight, my nose, and my hearing were much sharper. Even in the darkness of the alley, I could hear him breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest, and smell the sour stench of cheap gas station wine. Gingerly, I stepped over the guy, cussing myself as I accidentally kicked an empty bottle and sent it clattering across the uneven pavement.

Shit, I hissed. Cordell was also a wolf shifter. A noise like that would attract his attention, and as strong as I was, Cordell was more ruthless. I might hesitate to kill him if it came down to it. He wouldn’t.

Etta, Cordell sang my name, his low timber holding the promise of violence. You can’t run, and there’s no place to hide. Make this easy on yourself and give up.

Nope. Giving up wasn’t an option. Why had I left Peculiar? William had been banished from the town on threat of death if he returned. He would’ve never come for me if I’d stayed under my stepmother Chavvah Smith’s protection. I’d been safe there.

I shook my head. I’d grown up in a pack town, and I’d been groomed by a narcissistic psychopath, aka my grandfather, to take over as the alpha when he retired. He’d also taught me to believe lycanthropes were at the top of the food chain and that all other shifters, or what we called therianthropes, were tainted products from offshoots of our ancestral tribe.

It was hard to shake that kind of upbringing. His way of governing had resulted in an over two-decade dry spell in pack fertility. In other words, there hadn’t been a single child born to his followers after the day I was born. Fate had intervened and brought us an alpha in the form of an outsider, a half coyote-half wolf shifter who married my bio-dad and changed everything for our people. In Peculiar, amongst the therianthropes, my pack, those of us who left to follow Chavvah, began to thrive again.

Unfortunately, my grandfather William Smith, hadn’t taken the great migration four years earlier well at all. He’d even challenged his son, my real father, Billy Bob Doc Smith, to a fight, then—adding salt to the wound—William threw me in as his proxy. William thought Doc wouldn’t fight his best against me. It turned out that Chavvah, was smart enough to know when to intercede. She accepted the challenge on her mate’s behalf and won. Losing the fight had been my greatest humiliation but also my greatest relief. For the first time in my life, I’d been given the freedom to choose my own path.

After a transition year of working for Doc at his family practice clinic, I’d chosen to leave and try my hand at higher education. At least, that’s what I’d told myself. As much as I’d been running toward a new life, I had also been running away from my old one. For the past three years, things had been going smoothly, if not a little lonely, until tonight.

Come on, Etta. Cordell had changed his tone from menacing to cajoling. I have a message from William. I come in peace, he said. Believe me, I only want to talk.

Hah. If by talking, he meant kidnapping me and stuffing me in the trunk of his car, then yeah, I believed he wanted to talk.

I ducked behind a dumpster, praying the pungent garbage would mask my scent. However, I couldn’t mask the intense thump of my heart trying to pound out of my chest. Keep calm, Etta, I told myself. I’d been in dangerous spots before but never without an escape plan.

There you are. His voice was closer. I can hear you, girl. It’s time to come home.

He wouldn’t stop until I faced him. I girded my loins and stepped out of the shadows. That’s not my home anymore.

Cordell had short blond hair and was six inches taller than me. He was also three times as wide and weighed a good three hundred and fifty pounds. He grinned. Your father wants you back. He has a new pack, and he needs you to help him guide us.

William is not my father, I spat out. Besides, the last thing he told me was that I was worthless. Right before he’d thrown me into Chavvah and Billy Bob’s wedding cake. It had been embarrassing but also a revelation. It had also been the tipping point for me. Even after his lies, manipulations, and abuses, up until that moment, I’d actually been willing to go back with him. Instead, I’d chosen a new path, one that would never lead back to William and his way of life.

He took you in when no one else would. You’re a bastard, and he raised you as his own, Cordell said. And now, he needs you home by your birthday so that you can inherit your legacy.

What the hell did that mean? I quirked a brow. Legacy? My birthday was only a few days away. I was born on March twentieth, the vernal equinox. My father…, no, William, was not my father. Ugh, I hated that Cordell was getting in my head. William had told me I was born at the exact moment the sun crossed the equator. Every year he made a big deal out of the day.

Cordell didn’t answer my question about legacy. Instead, he hit me with more platitudes. He forgives you. He needs you to come home so you can see how different things are now.

I gnashed my teeth and ground out my next words. The only thing William needs is to leave me the hell alone.

His brow dipped as his tone became threatening. That’s not one of your choices, little girl.

It doesn’t seem like I have any choices where you’re concerned, so I’ll have to make my own. I’d been trained my whole life in hand-to-hand combat, and I was a master with a sword. Cordell and I had been taught by the same man. He would know and anticipate all my moves. All of them except one.

The one where I run.

Cordell surged forward, arms outstretched, but he was too late.

I took off in a sprint down the alley.

Still, he was quick for a big man. I could hear him behind me, closing the distance with his long strides. I came out onto Bar Street. It wasn’t really named that, but that’s what the college students called it. The street was lined with pubs and clubs that catered to the young, and it was hopping on hump day. Cordell wouldn’t attack me with this many people around. Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t. Of course, even if I gave him the slip, I knew he wouldn’t stop coming after me.

I pulled my backpack tighter to my shoulder and wove my way through small groups of men and women walking down the sidewalk.

A neon arrow flickered in a window, pointing east. I was already going that way, so I didn’t take it as a sign. But when four more neon arrows led me past three more bars and down a side street, I was beginning to think it was divine intervention. I almost laughed when I saw a flashing eye inside a pyramid, the symbol for all-seeing in the large shop window. Under that, in blue, red, and yellow neon were the words Tarot, Crystals, and Readings.

I didn’t need a fortune teller to know I was screwed as Cordell came out of nowhere and plowed into me.

We hit the window hard, glass shattering under the impact before we tumbled through into the shop. Luckily, I was wearing jeans and a faux leather jacket. The clothing saved me from getting cut up, but the impact had knocked the breath from my lungs. Cordell wasn’t as fortunate. A shard, at least two inches wide, stuck out of the side of his neck. Blood ran down his chest, coating his shirt like a scarlet scarf.

He yanked the glass out and held it like a weapon. His skin sprouted with fur. A partial transformation wouldn’t heal him, but it would stop the damage from getting worse.

Don’t make this hard, Etta. His voice had taken on the growly reverberation that occurred when we became other. He’s given you four years of freedom. It’s time to come home now."

William never gave me shit, and that’s not my home, I restated while grabbing the nearest object handy—a large round stone. Tell him I’m never coming back. I’d rather die first.

His yellow eyes glowed, and I resisted the urge to transform with him. Therianthropes and lycanthropes were trained to be careful about exposing our true natures to humans, and Cordell was breaking all kinds of rules. He can find you anywhere, Etta. You’re his wolf, his blood, and a part of his tribe. He can track you by your essence.

Crap. Was this true? If it was, how did I not know that? Maybe because William was a power-hungry dick, who kept his secrets close to the vest.

I raised the heavy sphere, ready to chuck it at Cordell’s head, but a hand on my arm stopped me. I whipped around to see a woman with dark skin and eyes that shined like black pearls standing behind me. Her lips moved, but my ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton, and I could barely hear the unintelligible muffled words she spoke, let alone understand them. Whatever they were, they froze me in place. I couldn’t turn my head to see if Cordell had been affected, but he wasn’t grabbing me, so I assumed it was so.

Crap, crap, crap. I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. This lady wasn’t some con-job psychic. She was a full-on witch or sorcerer, and she’d caught me in a snare.

The woman held up her hand and made a slicing motion in the air. There was a sickening sucking sound behind me, followed by a thud.

There, she cooed, her dark eyes swirling with silvery light. You’re next, little wolf.

Fear and adrenaline forced my mouth to move. Wa-wa-wait, I grunted out.

She gave me an appraising look. You shouldn’t be able to speak, young one. She cocked her head side-to-side as she studied my face. You’re quite strong. Maybe there is more to you than meets the eye. She snapped her fingers, and my head and throat unfroze. Speak.

I looked back and saw Cordell on the ground, looking human again. He wasn’t breathing. You killed him.

"The glass from my