Witching The Day Away: Paranormal Comedy Romance Read online

  WITCHING THE DAY AWAY

  BY

  M L BRIERS

  Copyright © 2018, M L Briers

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for brief exerts in reviews. Any unauthorised reproduction or distribution of the material herein is illegal and may result in criminal proceedings. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to the internet or distributed via electronic or print without prior consent.

  Note from the Author;

  All names, places, and incidents contained herein are purely fictional and have no basis in actual events or linked to actual Humans, Witches, Vampires, Werewolves, Lycans, Werebears or persons living, dead or undead.

  Copyright © 2018, Cover Design by; [email protected].

  Table of Contents

  WITCHING THE DAY AWAY

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~

  High on the hill to one side of the valley stood the church. It looked down on the town of Knowing and the human inhabitants that resided there. Father Wolf lived in the residence at the back of the church, and three nuns, Sister Margaret-Mary, Sister Marie-Mary, and Sister Mary-Mary lived in the small dwelling that stood beside it.

  On the other side of the valley stood a large mansion house. It too looked down on the residents of Knowing, but its occupant wasn’t God-fearing, more an unholy vampire that had struck an uneasy alliance with the church for sanctuary many centuries before, and in return for not bleeding the town dry – literally, he was granted the protection of the church.

  To the left of the town was a semi-circle of small dwellings, little cottages that housed the witches, six cottages, six witches, never enough to make a full coven, but a half coven was acceptable to the church.

  On the right stood pack land, and for hundreds of years, a proud and noble pack of Lycans had guarded the entrance to the town. But a lack of mates had seen the original pack dwindle over the years until only a few elders remained. That had thrown the alliance out of synch, and Father Wolf, who wasn’t a wolf at all, had taken it upon himself with the elder alpha’s blessing to bring in fresh blood, a new pack looking for a home, to the valley.

  Now, as he stood outside the door of his church and looked down on the good town of Knowing, he felt the wind turn towards Autumn and knew that winter wasn’t far behind. But there was a strange feel to the air this year, and he wondered if it had anything to do with the new inhabitants.

  “The witches aren’t happy,” Sebastian Cavani said, standing at the priest’s side and looking down at the town as it slumbered.

  “The witches are never happy,” Mayor Plank said, from the other side of the priest.

  “Watch your tongue, Remi,” Delta warned him. As the eldest of witches and overseer to the younger ones, it was her job to put the case for her kind, which she always did with such diplomacy. “You might be a long-in-the-tooth wolf, but I’m sure you’d like to go to your grave with your balls intact.”

  Father Wolf snorted a chuckle to try to keep it inside, he did a lousy job, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Mayor raise an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat. “The witches will be fine, the pack will be fine, the vampire will be fine, and the church is accepting of the restoration of balance in our town.”

  “We’re all fine,” Sebastian said. “Why does that not fill me with the warm fuzzy feeling?”

  “Because you’re a coldblooded, monster that hasn’t had enough coffee, and, or alcohol to make it appear any different,” Delta said, keeping her tone even. When he twisted his head to look at her, she shot him a wicked smile.

  Sebastian grunted. “I’m sure the balance would be fine if I killed just one witch,” Sebastian said in a dry tone and noted the quirk of the priest’s lips.

  “Delta,” Father Wolf said, and he knew he needed to go no further.

  “Yeah, yeah, blah-blah-blah,” Delta shot back.

  “Apology accepted,” Sebastian said, knowing that the witch would never be able to force the words from her lips.

  “My pack will try to stay out of your witches way,” Grant, the alpha of the new pack, said.

  Delta lifted her chin and raised her eyebrows, not bothering to look in the alpha’s direction. “Be sure they do,” she said in a tone that could have cut glass. “Bald wolves are so unattractive.”

  Grant opened his mouth to speak, but the elder was already spinning on her heels and stalking away from them. “Wow,” he muttered.

  Mayor Plank chuckled. “Oh, don’t pay Delta any mind. She talks the talk, but her witches never attacked my pack.”

  “Well, my people are settling in,” Grant said, eager to be back on his land and away from the surreal moments that being in such an alliance caused. He’d needed a place for his people when things went belly up on their own land. The old alpha had made a bad deal or two, and they’d lost almost everything. At least now they had a chance to rebuild on land that would one day be theirs. “I should see to that.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Father Wolf said. “And welcome to Knowing.”

  “Don’t eat anybody,” Sebastian added and got a low, warning growl back in return.

  “I’ll give it a shot,” Grant bit out.

  “Don’t shoot anybody either,” Sebastian said, and Grant hesitated in turning away. His beast said to go claws and fangs out and let the vampire know just how he was feeling – his brain said to walk away and keep the peace.

  It was written into the laws of Knowing that none of the inhabitants should harm another. He wasn’t sure that was going to work out well.

  “He’s just pulling your leg,” Mayor Plank informed him. “You’ll get used to him.”

  “I sure hope not,” Grant said, stalking off in the direction that he’d parked his pickup, leaving the three oldest residents of the town together.

  “A little touchy,” Sebastian said. “Are you sure they’re going to fit in here?”

  Father Wolf took a moment to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts. “I sure hope so,” he said and sighed the breath back out. “It would be a shame to have to kill them.”

  ~

  Vivelle Cooper bit off the curse that she’d been mumbling when she spotted the nun floating towards her across the parking lot. Of course, the woman wasn’t really floating, that would take magic, and that was Vivelle’s speciality, not the nun’s. But the graceful, almost effortless way that the woman glided in the long habit sure did make it appear that way.

  Sister Mary-Mary, so good they named her twice, was the nicest nun out of the three that resided in the little town of Knowing. She had a bubbly personality, and her eyes were always smiling, even when grumpy nun was around.

  Three nuns lived in Knowing in total, and the witches of the town had nicknames for them all, Sister Mary was Happy. Sister Margaret, the oldest of the three, was Grumpy, and Sister Marie was bashful. Nobody was hoping that another four would show up to make a complete set of Dwarfs.

  “Oh dear, we have spillage!” Sister
Mary announced, gleeful at the prospect of being able to help clear up the mess that Vivelle’s shopping had created when the cheap bag had burst.

  Vivelle offered the nun a cheery smile back. Nobody could dare be gloomy around Sister Mary; her happy-go-lucky ways were just too catching. It was a wonder then that Sister Grumpy was such a sourpuss. “That’ll teach me to do the man thing.”

  “Man thing?” Sister Mary asked, kneeling down as she went to work gathering items in her arms, and cocking a curious look at the witch from under her lashes.

  Vivelle nodded. “Ever seen a guy carrying shopping bags?” she asked, and the Sister shook her head with a smile. “Doesn’t matter how many there are, he feels it’s his masculine duty to get them all in one go.”

  “But you only have one bag,” Sister Mary said with amusement.

  “Yeah, but I shoved everything in that bag so I wouldn’t have to carry two,” Vivelle said, shrugging.

  Sister Mary held up a jar of dried sage and eyed it. “The witches’ herb.”

  A smile slowly crept across Vivelle’s face. “For cooking, not witching,” she assured her. The nuns knew what was going on in the little town of Knowing, but it wasn’t openly spoken about, even if it was frowned upon by the Grumpy nun of the three. Sister Mary seemed more open and curious about things, but she never asked, and Viv never told. She reached out and took the jar from the nun-like it was a live grenade about to go off in her hand. “Let’s get temptation away from you.”

  Sister Mary giggled, and that sound was infectious. She appeared to be in her early thirties, but Vivelle couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t like to ask. But she had a cheeky smile and a zest for life that nobody in Knowing could match.

  “Oh,” Sister Mary said, blushing. “I don’t think that would go down well with the Boss.” She raised her gaze to the autumn skies and gave a small shrug.

  “You’re probably right,” Viv chuckled as she added it to the pile in the crock of her arm and pushed up to her feet as the Sister did the same.

  “Well,” Sister Mary looked around her. “Where’s your car?”

  Viv pointed the way, and the strange pair walked along chatting together. “Holy Moly!” Viv bit out at the sight of the big, muscled sex-on-a-stick guy that dropped down from his pickup truck and eyed the area like he was doing reconnaissance for a mission. Viv slapped herself upside the head as her words registered. “Sorry, Sister!”

  “I don’t think you took the Lord’s name; you’ll be fine.” Sister Mary followed Viv’s gaze to where the man stood.

  His thumbs were hooked into the belt loops at the front of a pair of worn black jeans, a snug fitting black tee clung to the ridges of his muscled chest under a green bomber jacket, dark glasses covered his eyes, but the wraparound scruff on his chin and the shaggy mop of dark hair was enough to make him look like a bad boy.

  Viv dragged her gaze away from the man and did a double take of the nun standing beside her. She reached out her witching finger and hooked the sister under her chin, pushing her drooping jaw back up into place. “Careful, Sister Mary, your halo is slipping.”

  “I’m…” Sister Mary flushed bright red. She was flustered alright. “No halo, but even I can appreciate God’s handiwork.”

  “Gotta admire the view,” Viv said, chuckling.

  “It would be a sin not to,” Sister Mary said, and then giggled like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  Viv turned her attention back to the view that had the nun all girlie. “Well, Sister,” she said, sighing. “It’s a shame that a view like that usually gets a girl in a whole lotta trouble,” Viv said, admiring it right alongside her companion. Look but don’t touch.

  “It would certainly get me in a whole lotta trouble,” Sister Mary whispered. Then she giggled some more. “Let’s get these things in your car, and you can be on your way before it gets you in a whole lotta trouble.”

  “Hmm, some things are worth the risk,” Viv said, but only to herself. But when the bad-boy unexpectedly turned his gaze on her, and a smirk graced his lips, Viv’s heart leapt into her throat.

  If she didn’t know better, then she might have thought the man had actually heard her. But that was impossible; he’d have to have some mighty good hearing to be able to … Viv was about to turn away when a horrible thought hit her hard. Shifter! Was he one of the new pack that she’d been warned had come to Knowing?

  Vivelle narrowed her eyes and eyeballed the man from head to toe. The build was right. The whole look of the man screamed shifter, and yet … nooo, he couldn’t be, could he?

  “Let’s go, times-a-wasting!” Sister Mary called to her and snapped her into action.

  There was a cocky grin on that man’s lips as she turned and followed the floating nun across the lot. If that was one of the new shifters in town – then the witches might just be in for a stormy few months until they taught the wolves some manners.

  Witches on one side, wolf shifters on the other, and no exceptions. Not even for someone who looked like sin on a plate and could get a nun flustered.

  ~

  “I think I just saw a shifter at the local store!” Vivelle rushed out as she tore through the house like she had a wolf on her heels and headed into the kitchen of her nearest neighbour, Olivia Lanturn, witch extraordinaire, and all-around busybody of the witching community. If there was an ear to the ground, it was sure to be hers.

  “Hold the presses!” Olivia called back and then chuckled like it was old news.

  “Ha-ha! Funny,” Viv said, panting slightly as she rushed up to the long counter in the kitchen and slapped the jar of dried sage down on the side. “You should have seen that guy!”

  “I’ve seen a shifter before, Viv, we do have them in town,” Olivia said, reaching for the sage and unscrewing the top to sample the scent.

  “We have elder shifters,” Viv said, snorting a chuckle of disbelief. “This guy was in his prime – with muscles – and muscles – and a body that…” she blew a breath upwards and her black hair out of her green eyes. “Phew!”

  “The guy was stacked,” Olivia shrugged. “And?”

  “And as sexy as hell!”

  “Someone needs to cool down. Can I get you a fan?” Olivia grinned at her friend’s enthusiasm.

  “What?” Viv frowned at the thought. “No!” she shook her head on a rush of denial. “I’m just saying, is all…”

  “That you have a little crush on the big, bad wolf?” Olivia teased her.

  Viv drew back slightly. It wasn’t like that, or if it was like that, then she wasn’t going to admit it to the witchy gossip of the west. “No!” she snorted in denial.

  “You look like you have a crush.”

  “How does a person look when they have a crush, which I don’t!” she bit out with all the annoyance she could muster to throw her friend off the scent.

  “Pink cheeks, sweaty, gooey-eyed…”

  “I’m sweaty and pink-cheeked because I ran over here with your sage!” she protested. “Sage, I might add, that caused me to run into the big bad sexy wolf in the first place.”

  “So, not a crush on the sexy wolf?” Olivia asked, smirking.

  “Not even close,” Viv said, berating her friend with a disapproving look. It wasn’t a lie, at least, she didn’t think it was. “And did I say sexy?” Olivia nodded, and there was a definite smirk on her lips. Viv hated it when she smirked. She had thought about Mr Shades and muscles all the way home, and she couldn’t wait to share news about her sort-of encounter, but that didn’t add up to a crush. “Well, no crush, but it is nice to have a view in town to ogle, even if he is off limits.”

  Olivia grinned. “A view?”

  “Sister Mary-Mary’s words, not mine,” Viv said, grinning.

  “You gotta love that nun.” Olivia chuckled.

  “She is a character,” Viv agreed. “And if anyone has a crush on the new boy…” She left that floating in the air between them.

  “Hmm, interesting…”

&nbs
p; “No,” Viv warned her, shaking her head. Olivia had a habit of poking her nose in where it didn’t belong. “That nun is way too good to ever be bad.” Viv chuckled. “If you want to tinker where you shouldn’t, how about you make grumpy nun smile for once.”

  “I don’t think anything could do that,” Olivia said, snorting a chuckle.

  “I live in hope.”

  “You live in a permanent state of delusion if you think Sister Margaret is ever going to be anything more than Attila the Nun.”

  Viv grimaced. It was true; Sister Margaret wasn’t a charmer. She had the kind of washboard temperament that most people in Knowing crossed the street to avoid when they saw her floating towards them. “Leave Sister Mary alone. She’s one nun that I don’t mind being around.”

  “Cross my heart,” Olivia said, doing just that with her fingertip, but behind her back, she’d also crossed the fingers on her other hand.

  Olivia made it a point to never promise something that she might regret later on. It felt like this was one of those times when she needed to hedge her bets.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~

  Viv hooked the birdfeeder cage with the end of the forked stick and slowly brought it down from the tall pole that she’d staked into the ground at the back of her land. All the cottages had a good sized garden, and she’d filled hers with plants, herbs, and a big greenhouse where everything had a place, and there was a place for everything.

  The pole had been a necessity to guard the birds that visited for a snack from Nancy’s cat – boy, could that feline climb a tree in record time, and too many birds had fallen prey to that moggy over the years. So, she’d installed a tall pole with a pretend branch at the top, and used anti-climb paint on the wood. It not only worked but provided hours of fun as the cat tried it’s best to get to the top but slipped back again – even with its claws out, that mini-beast couldn’t get her birds.