Magic and Mayhem : Werewolf Paranormal Romance Read online

  Magic and Mayhem

  The dangers of werewolves ,shifters, vampires and creatures

  Sarah Ray

  Contents

  Get your FREE copy today!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About the Author

  Copyright c 2021 by Sarah Ray

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is entirely coincidental. All incidents are authors imagination or used fictitiously.

  Get my FREE copy of “The Wild One” Today !!

  You can sign up to be notified of pre releases specials for FREE , giveaways, new release’s, discounted books plus get a FREE book by joining my readers group

  CLICK HERE TO CLAIM YOUR FREE BONUS!

  Excerpt- Magic and Mayhem

  After the death of her beloved husband Robert, Calla Lowell feels her childhood home calling to her in her time of grief and desperation. Packing up her life, she goes back to the small provincial town of Gillytree with her children in tow to make her parents’ old house her home again. However, when she comes across Arby, a childhood friend of whom she only has the faintest of recollections, things become even more confusing – especially when she realizes that the normalcy of her life is a lie and that magic and mayhem lurk in every corner.

  1

  The funeral had ended hours ago. Calla Jones stood with her son and daughter and a dog they barely knew in front of a freshly covered grave. A new marble headstone in the shape of a cross marked it. They had watched the ceremony from their van as the storm clouds gathered overhead. The rumbling storm was a fitting end to an already depressing morning. Once it began, the rain fell in a constant gloomy drizzle.

  Calla stared at the grave, holding her umbrella over her and her son. Everyone was silent. Her beloved husband was supposed to come home today. Instead, he had arrived in a casket a few days earlier. Calla’s gaze traveled up to the marker, with his name coldly etched into it. Robert Jones. He was never coming home again.

  She would never hear his voice or see his beautiful happy face. She would never see him helping their daughter with her homework. She would never see him hiking with their son.

  Nevermore would there be any sweet kisses or mornings waking up to a smiling face and mussed-up hair. Nevermore was there that kind, warm love they shared. There would only be cold, stormy days and a life of darkness missing her husband’s light.

  Calla sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her new, unwanted life as a single mother. She had been too sad, angry, and embarrassed to attend the service. Calla didn’t need to hear, ‘I am sorry for your loss’ a hundred times. She would not have been able to make it through that ordeal.

  Everything they had planned together, Calla now had to do alone. The dog, Lara, lowered her head and whimpered. The dog had arrived on time, without Calla’s husband. The dog had a bandage over the right side of her head, hiding where her right ear should have been. There was an already healing burn scar running down her neck and side. Calla made sure she was covered so she wouldn’t get wet.

  Lara tugged at the lead, whining at the grave. She knew. Dogs knew these kinds of things. And then she began howling. Calla pulled at the leash. She knew dogs but hadn’t had one in her life in years. Raising a family meant Calla didn’t have time for a pet too. And now she had one that was broken and barely functioning. It wasn’t Lara’s fault. None of it had been her fault. Calla sighed. “Lara. Come.” There was a flash of lightning, followed by a far too close crash of thunder.

  The dog cringed up against Calla’s legs, tail between her hind legs. She immediately peed where she was. “Lovely.” Calla sighed. Hopefully, the rain would wash it off between here and their car. “Come on, let’s get to the car.” Calla knelt to run her hand over Lara’s shoulders. This dog was a shadow of the proud, confident animal she had been. Robert had been so happy she would retire with him and live out the rest of her life with his family.

  When Lara arrived, Calla had forgotten entirely about her. She and her family were packing the small rented trailer for moving to their new home. The dog came in her traveling crate. What was she going to do? Turn the dog away? She was no longer qualified for active duty, and she was lucky even to be alive. Calla would deal with her. After all, she had lost her master, who had trained her and depended on her mission after mission. Lara was a part of her husband.

  Calla glanced over her shoulder one last time at the grave, then at her children. They were walking with their heads down, trying to hold back the tears. But they were sniffling and wiping their eyes. Calla had shed enough tears. They were fighting to return, but she had a long drive ahead of her.

  The kids got into the van, with both going into the first row of seats. Lara’s kennel was jammed into a space behind the first row against the back seats. The dog crept into her crate when told to, turned, and laid down. She fixed Calla with her sad brown eyes. Then she began whining.

  Calla started the car in silence. She ran a hair through her short auburn hair and stared ahead into the rain. Lara whined pitifully while Calla’s children sat in cold, unmoving silence. They were not interacting or looking at each other. They didn’t have a phone or a game out — not even a book. Calla adjusted her mirror and gripped the steering wheel. If they survived the drive, it would be a miracle.

  Lara whined as the van moved forward, pulling their entire life in one small trailer. They had never had much, but they had always had a family.

  The trip was miserable. Driving through dismal, cold rain was tiring. The trip would take several days of constant driving. They stopped at cheap hotels to spend their nights. Then they returned to the road early in the morning. Calla was in no better spirits the second day, but her kids were beginning to wake up.

  Hayley, her oldest, would be 13 in a few months. She took after her father with his same fair skin and dark blond hair. It had been almost white when she was a baby. Hayley had her father’s blue eyes. She was a smart girl and typical for her age.

  Max was ten and looked more like his mother. He had short auburn hair and green eyes. He was a quiet, thoughtful boy who loved to read and explore.

  Lara thankfully stopped whining as much the second day. She settled into her crate and slept. They stopped on occasion to stretch their legs and walk her. Calla was sad to see how depressed the dog looked. She crept more than walked. It wasn’t her fault. Her husband had not died because the dog had failed in her job. Someone else had done
the deed.

  Calla sighed and pushed her thoughts back to the road. She could not dwell on things that could not be fixed. Her husband was gone. She had two children she had to take care of and a new life to begin.

  The terrain began changing from day to day. Flat land turned into rolling hills. Trees gave way to large open spaces. Then there were trees again — different kinds than they were used to seeing. Mile after mile and down winding roads, they traveled.

  “Mom,” Max groaned from the back seat. “Are we there yet?”

  Calla smiled. It was the first sign of her normal son she had heard in days. “Soon, Max. We’ll be home tonight.” Home. That’s where they were going. A home she hadn’t seen since she was a child. It was her family’s ancestral home, and she had inherited it a year ago. She and her husband had planned to move there at the end of his deployment. They were going to fix up that old home and raise their children in the charming, small town of Gillytree.

  “It will never be home.” Hayley snapped at her brother, scowling at him. “Not without Dad.”

  The car’s breaks squealed in protest, and Calla swung it into a stop at the side of the road. Hayley and Max went completely silent, with Hayley pursing her lips. She had said the wrong thing.

  Calla stared ahead at the road. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were white. She closed her eyes and scowled, staring angrily ahead. “Of all the selfish things to say, Hayley. You’re old enough to know better than to say things like that.” Then Calla rested her head on the steering wheel and began crying.

  Hayley lowered her head, feeling ashamed for what she had said. Max glared at his sister. Neither wanted to hurt their mother. They had been mostly quiet for that reason. They had not wanted to bother her, but after days of silence, they had to talk.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean it like that.” Hayley sniffled. “I love you.”

  Max unbuckled his seat belt and got up to lean around the front seat and hug his mother. “We’re sorry.” Calla sat for a moment longer, regaining her composure. It was difficult remaining strong when you didn’t have anyone to lean on but yourself. She thought a prayer for comfort, then smiled at Max and Hayley.

  “I’m okay. Get back in your seat. We’ll be there soon. It’s been a long week, and we have many more to come, but we have each other, don’t we?” Calla pushed a smile forward. “I love you too.” Usually, when Calla was feeling down, forcing a smile helped. Today was not one of those days, but she had to do it anyway.

  2

  It was early in the evening when they reached Gillytree. It was a tourist town that was spread out over several miles. The Jones’ home was on the outer edge of Gillytree. They passed a scattering of fast food places, hotels, and a shopping center. Then they found the road that led to their home. They traveled deeper and deeper into a thick forest.

  Houses were few and far between, hidden among the trees. The road became rougher, and they were going up higher into the hills surrounding the town. Hayley and Max stared out the windows in wonder. Were they going to live in the middle of nowhere? They had grown up in a suburb, and this might as well have been wilderness.

  Finally, they pulled onto a narrow road overgrown with weeds. It had not been maintained for some time. The road was broken up and full of holes. They turned a corner and drove through a mass of overhanging trees that formed a canopy over them. The road opened up into a field, and then they saw the house rising before them. It was like the specter of a once-great home, looming out of the oncoming darkness. The kids gaped at the house. It was not a welcoming sight.

  Calla pulled up to the front and stared at the house with a growing sense of sadness and unease. It wasn’t like she remembered it. Her memories were of a home that was a bright and cheerful golden yellow color, like lemonade. The columns had been white, and hanging pots were everywhere on the wrap-around porch. The windows had been full of lacey white curtains, and everything looked fresh and homey. Her grandmother and grandfather had taken good care of the house.

  That was not the house she was looking at now. It was in disrepair, with the wood rotting away in many places. The paint was faded. Remnants of hanging plants hung in dismal draping death from their pots. Windows were broken and boarded up. The ones that remained were dark. Dust-covered windows almost hid dingy yellow curtains. The house was dark and foreboding.

  “Mom,” Hayley leaned next to her mother, staring out the dash window with her. “Are we really going to live here?” She whispered. “It’s so …”

  “Awesome,” Max stated in awe, unbuckling his seatbelt.

  “I was going for obviously haunted,” groaned Hayley.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Hayley.” Calla grinned, unlocking her door. “I grew up there. There are no ghosts. I promise.”

  The Jones’ arrival did not go unnoticed. There were things in the house, but they were not ghosts. Small furry animals ran to the windows, peering out through the dark glass. Whispers of wonder traveled through them.

  “People? People!” They whispered and began bouncing around in the darkness. They scurried out of the rooms and into the walls. They went up into the attic and down into the basement. “I hope they brought peanut butter!” That brought out a simultaneous murmuring of hungry voices. “Peanut butter!”

  Daylight was fading fast when Calla walked up the creaking steps to their new home. She unlocked the door, and it resisted her efforts to open it. Calla ended up putting her shoulder against it and shoving as hard as she could. The stuck door popped open with a groan into a room as dark as night. She stood outside the door for a moment. Max and Hayley were standing behind her, staring into the darkness.

  “Don’t worry.” Calla smiled at them, reaching inside for a light switch. “An electrician was supposed to be in to make sure the house had electricity on by the time we got here.” Her hand hit the switch, and it clicked. Nothing happened. Calla turned with a frown, leaning inside the house and hitting the switch in the other direction. She did it a few more times with growing frustration before letting out a sigh.

  “I’ll call them in the morning.” Calla turned back to her children. “We have flashlights in the car, and I’m sure we can find candles for tonight.”

  A short time later, the Jones were exploring the first floor of the house. There was a thin layer of dust over everything, but the inside looked like that of a normal house. It was furnished. Plastic sheets were draped over all the furniture.

  The Jones brought a few suitcases and boxes into the living room and set up there to spend the night. They uncovered the furniture to find comfortable couches and a couple of recliners.

  Everything was in good shape. The house had the smell of a place that people had not been in some time, but it became more inviting as the evening went on. The gas fireplace worked, and soon Calla had a fire going to fight against the damp incoming night. The fire raised everyone’s spirits.

  Lara settled in front of it, laying her head on her paws and staring into the darkness around them. Her eyes shifted around warily as she took in her new surroundings. She could sense the creatures moving in the dark. They didn’t worry her. Nothing about them stirred her to react.

  Lara could see the animals for what they were. They were not creatures she had seen in her life, but she knew it was best to leave them alone. These animals were not the same as she was.

  At the top of the stairs, the small creatures amassed in the darkness. They observed the Jones and talked amongst themselves in simple sentences. “Kid! A boy and a girl!” Their words spread through their numbers. The messages traveled across the entire house. “Peanut butter! Peanut butter! Dog! Dog! Fire!”

  The family did not hear their voices. They spoke too high for human ears to detect. “Shh. Quiet.” The small animals began moving aside to make room for a larger one to pass through them and sit at the top of the stairs. The creatures were in varying shades of brown, gold, red, white, and black. The newcomer was bigger than
they were and held her head high as she walked. The others looked at her reverently and spoke her name. “Penny. Penny.”

  Penny had thick, cream-colored fur. Her large round eyes were bright blue. She had the same long furry body with a short fuzzy tail that the smaller creatures had. A thick ruff encircled Penny’s neck. Her face was round with a short muzzle and large rounded ears. Leathery wings covered her sides. Even those had a layer of short, fine fur.

  “Clean. We clean.” She sat down and made a purring noise, looking at those around her.

  “We get peanut butter?” One hopeful sat up and asked.

  “It is Calla. Calla all grown up.” Another bobbed her head, passing on the information to Penny.

  “Calla!” The name went around in their mouths. “Calla!”

  Penny looked around at her children. Most of them were not alive the last time Calla had been in the house. Without people to instruct them, their numbers had grown without restraint. Penny had been bored over the previous year, and babies were amusing. Now, she needed to get them back to doing their various jobs. Their work had fallen to the side without people to serve.