Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I stare at Sarah. “Was it something I said?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Luna, it might have something to do with the fact that June’s in love with your brother.”
I scoff and shake my head. “Whatever. She does not love Apollo, Sarah. They can’t stand each other. She hates him.”
Sarah bites her lip and then says, “Does she, though?”
I look over at the door that June just marched through and frown.
“Well, shit.”
October 11, 2011
* * *
Dear Diary,
Pumpkin spice lattes are my new obsession. The Grind has them for the first time this year, and all I can say is: I’m going to be broke soon because I can’t stop buying them.
Also, I can never tell June this because it would freak her out, but her older brother Cullen has gotten hot. He’s also a cop, so maybe it’s just the man in uniform thing? I don’t know.
Love,
Luna
Chapter Fifteen
Wolfe
I pull on the red fleece shirt and button it, still not entirely sure how Luna managed to talk me into this.
“She had your dick in her hands and was driving you out of your mind,” I remind myself in the mirror. “You would have done anything for her in that moment.”
I’m furry.
I sat still for two hours this afternoon while a makeup artist glued fur around my face and on my hands. She painted on a black nose and whiskers.
I pop the fangs into my mouth and smile.
“Thith ith ridiculouth.”
“You look amazing,” Luna says from behind me. I turn and grin when I take in her costume.
She’s in a simple and modest black and white dress, but the red cape falls over her shoulders, and she’s arranged the hood over her head. I can still see her dark hair and her gorgeous face.
“No, that’th you,” I reply and let the teeth fall out of my mouth. “You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re the big, bad wolf,” she replies and crosses to me, leaning in to kiss me. “The fur tickles my lips.”
But her hand cups my package, and I lift a brow.
“What a big dick you have.”
“All the better to fuck you with.” I grin and go in for another kiss. If I’d known before that this would be my life after racing, I would have beelined it home.
It’s a good thing I didn’t know.
“We don’t have time for this,” she murmurs against my lips. “But later, I’ll wear the cape and nothing else.”
“Fuck the party. Let’s skip to the good stuff.”
Luna laughs and steps out of my grasp. “Hell, no. We’re going. It’s a Huckleberry Bay tradition, and I’m dying to see what Annabelle has done with her house this year.”
“Did I tell you that she yelled at Zeke at the garage?” I follow Luna down the hall to the kitchen, where she snags her basket to complete the look of her costume. “She was unhappy with our oil change prices.”
“For someone with so much money, she sure is cheap,” she says with a shake of her head. “But also, she’s kind of awesome.”
“How did she come into her money?” I ask as we walk out to the car.
“I have no idea,” Luna replies. “As far as I know, no one knows. Not even June. She’s just always been an eccentric, rich, older woman. Even when we were kids, she seemed old. But she’s so colorful at the same time.”
“An interesting woman indeed,” I agree and drive down Lighthouse Way, then take a left to drive just a little farther out of town.
Annabelle Snow’s house is an old Victorian that sits up at the top of a small mountain. She has a view of the ocean while being nestled up to the Oregon mountains.
It’s the best of both worlds.
“It’s all lit up,” Luna says as we climb the winding road and can see bits and pieces through the trees. “She made it look like a gingerbread house! Like in Hansel and Gretel! Oh my gosh, this is just fabulous.”
Luna’s grinning like a kid going to their first Halloween party as I park the car, and we get out and walk the short distance to the porch, which is covered in lollipops, gumdrops, and chocolates.
“It’s real candy,” she says as she touches a sucker. “This had to take hours. Days.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t the one gluing the candy to the house,” I agree and knock on the door.
A short person draped in black with a huge wart on their nose opens it.
“What’s the password?”
Luna bounces with glee. “Pumpernickel! The password is pumpernickel.”
“You may proceed,” the warted woman says and steps back, gesturing with a long, bony finger for us to enter.
There’s the typical smoke caused by dry ice and water that you’d expect at a Halloween party. The lights are dim, and I hear music, but also someone reciting what sounds like fairy tales over a loudspeaker.