Meet Edward Richards. She’s your typical girl (if you overlook the fact that she has a man’s name and is a succubus), but when she meets Jackson Loren everything changes. Jackson is hot, fun, and stubborn. He always has an argument for why he should get his way and Edward is having trouble disagreeing. When their first date goes horribly wrong both of them are forever changed.

Fast forward four years and the two of them reconnect. Things heat up with a series of hijinks, interfering sisters, and a supernatural body switching governess. All the two of them want is to just go on a simple date and be normal in this tale of love, sex, and magic.

SHENANIGANS
A Tale of Love, Sex, and Magic
By T.B. BOND

Excerpt

Jackson Loren tossed back a shot of whiskey. He motioned to the bartender to hit him with another shot. This one, his fifth, he nursed as he tried to drown the sound of loud music. Who had the bright idea to go out on the town? He had a paper to write if he wanted to pass his Business Analytics class and graduate this semester.

Knock on wood.

This class, true to form, was brutal. The professor took advantage of the fact that the college only offered this class in the Spring Semester. Professor Bempong enjoyed lording ’his way or the highway’ over everyone. The entire semester held nothing but brown-nosing and nose grinding. If he didn’t need the degree for his pack, he would just eat the guy and be done with it.

He downed the rest of the shot at the thought of brutalizing another… brutalizing a human being. His gut clinched. Pete would frown at his revulsion over his animal tendencies. The pack leader had the opinion that humans were only good for food, employees, and sex. He recognized few exceptions. If a wolf hungered enough, a human was SOL.

Twisted as it was, he missed Pete and the rest of the pack. He looked forward to going home to Tidewater after graduation.

“I need another,” he yelled over the din that some called dance music, but the bartender shook his head.

“Hey, Jack.” His blonde roommate, Les, laughed as he slapped his back. “You’re not going to sit at the bar all night, are you? The good ones don’t hang around here.”

Jackson frowned at the bartender before turning to his friend. What the hell? He had a buzz strong enough to consider the idea. He hadn’t been laid all semester. “I’ll bite, Les. Where are the good ones?”

His roommate grabbed him by shoulders and moved from the bar. He thumbed toward the dance floor. “Just grind up next to one and see how she moves.”

“I ain’t that drunk.” Jack shook his head and started for the bar. His friend grabbed his shoulder as a new song began, but he said, “I’m going upstairs.”

“Keys?” Les asked, holding out his hand.

Jackson rolled his eyes and threw his keys at his friend then turned toward the stairs. He didn’t bother arguing the issue. Les wouldn’t let him walk around with car keys when he was knocking shots back like water. His roommate would put him in a squad car and throw him in jail until he dried out first. That was the drawback of having a cop for a roommate. He would have to take his fun on foot someplace else.

If the bartender downstairs insisted on cutting him off, he’d find a bartender on another floor who would accommodate him. This was one plus in coming to such a popular club as Bay’s. They had plenty of everything – legs, ass, boobs, and booze.

In another day, he would gladly take a break, but today… Jackson rubbed his left shoulder. He bore no scar, but he remembered the pain of the bite he’d received four years ago.

That bite had turned him into a werewolf, which wasn’t so bad. It had its weird moments, but plenty of paranormal movies and books had subliminally primed his mind for the possibility. Edward scarred him more than anything. She never came back to school. He found her house empty when he tracked her down days later, looking for answers.

Pete said she’d tried to kill him.

He still wanted her.

He had a lot of questions and nothing made sense. Pete had tried to explain that she no longer posed a problem, but that made him more suspicious. He tried to get the details out of the alpha wolf, but Pete refused to elaborate. He got pissed whenever anyone asked him questions. It was rare for Pete to be so vague. Jackson figured it had something to do with the elfin angel. He didn’t remember much before he passed out, but he remembered her. The elfin angel had erased parts of Pete’s mind. That was Jackson’s theory, anyway. All he had to do was find her and he could find Edward. Then he could make her talk.

“I need to get a life,” he muttered as he sat at a bar. He threw a bill on the counter. “A shot of José.”

A bartender poured the drink and took the money. Jackson picked up the shot to toss it back then paused. Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his skin erupted in goose flesh.

What the hell? Was he sick? His heart started to race.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” the bartender asked.

He set down his drink. “I’ve had enough.” He pushed from the bar and strode away. He needed some air.

You’re my addiction sang throughout the club as he made his way downstairs to go outside. He scanned fruitlessly through the gyrating crowd for Les. Once he regained control, he would head to the apartment, company or not.

A familiar flash of dark locks caught his eye for a moment before dissolving into the sea of dancers in the dim club atmosphere. His breath slowed as his heart started to race to the beat of the music’s bass line.

He sensed something here. It had to be.

He tried to focus his senses then cursed. It was really too damn loud in this club. What possessed him to come here? In frustration, he turned for the exit.

…When you move like that, I get so excited…

A cinnamon scent looped a noose around him and arrested his movement. Facing the dance floor, he followed the scent. An orgy of dance surrounded him as he joined the sea of undulation.

In his peripheral vision, women gyrated against their partners with vigor as they moved in time to the music. A few of the dancers withdrew to the side and began to bump and grind against the wall, not bothering to take it to the bathroom.

His temperature increased as he advanced to the center of the crowd. He barely wondered where the bouncers had gone or why everyone acted so heated. He was too far gone himself.

You and me in the corner…

“Mine.” He growled as the cinnamon started to short-circuit his brain.

He had only one obstacle to his goal. A dark-haired guy in jeans and a polo shirt moved against sex in heels.

“Mine.” He pushed the guy grinding against her and claimed her for his own.

“The hell,” the guy yelled over the music. He lunged at Jackson, cocking his fist.

Jackson flashed his canines.

Polo shirt faltered. “Freak,” he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

Jackson wrapped his arm around cinnamon’s waist and tugged her close against him. He buried his nose in her neck as he moved against her. Euphoria filled him as they danced and he took in her essence.

In some other part of his brain, the sane part, he screamed to rein in his possessiveness and get out of Dodge. He didn’t understand his own actions. He’d somehow switched to autopilot, except he reveled in it. Cinnamon felt good next to him. His body was calm. Calmer, anyway. He only wanted to stay next to her and breathe in her scent all night as he moved inside of her.