Chapters

  1. The Animal Side

  2. Love, Haters and Karaoke

  3. A Nymph Walked In

  4. Redneck Secretaries and a Nemesis

  5. My Aunt Tabitha

  6. Chihuahuas and Demons

  7. Un-Dead Best Friends

  8. Research and Information

  9. The Enemy of My Enemy

  10. Matchmaking Sabotage

  11. Demons, Chihuahuas and Motorcycles

  12. Bad Witches

  13. Demon Kings Rock

  14. A Bad Feeling

  15. Panic

  16. A Little Less Panic

  17. Self-Defense Tactics and Break-Ins

  18. Bad Nymphs

  19. Matchmaking

  20. Chihuahuas In Love

  21. My Aunt In Love

  22. The Devil I Now Know

  23. The Things We Do For Those We Love

  24. Embracing My Lie

  25. Hot Demons

  26. Every Witch Needs A Thick Bedroom Door

  27. Got Fangs?

  28. Good Friends

  29. A Chihuahua-Napping

  30. The Evil Witch

  31. My Biggest Battle

  32. And Then I Died

  33. Dying Sucks

  34. Happily-Ever

  1. The Animal Side.

  "The alpha wolf is easily recognized by its bold facial markings as well as its scent."

  It wasn't Sir David Attenborough's voice, although the narrator did have an English accent and spoke in the same lyrical tone.

  "These distinct characteristics, along with body posture and dominance, set the alpha wolf apart from the rest of the pack."

  I lifted Ash's arm and started to ease my way off the bed. That same arm tightened and pulled me back into the curve of his warm body.

  "He's fine, Kate," Ash rumbled in my ear. His voice was several octaves lower than normal. Probably because I'd woken him up and it was four in the morning.

  "He's not fine." I wiggled and pushed against his arm. I made absolutely no progress what-so-ever.

  Ash is a demon lord. Actually, his full name is Asmodeus or Asmodai–depending upon your mortal ethnic heritage–King of Demons.

  Yep. That still rocks my boat. I'm sleeping with Ash, King of Demons and star attraction in all my naughty fantasies. Not bad at all for a cursed witch.

  I'm Kate Storm and these days I rock.

  Sort of.

  I'm a half-breed witch. Half human and half non. I belong in both the human community and the HC–humanly challenged–one. The HC are immortal and consist of creatures usually found in human fairy tales. For the HC, those fairy tales are basically family histories.

  Like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood, that clan of werewolves still obsesses over the color red. They love it. Can't get enough of it. I heard they even tried therapy at one point, but I guess it was during the Running of the Bulls in Spain and the TV was on . . . Yeah. Not good. They've been banned from all therapy and they settled out of court for damages to the warlock therapist.

  The humans don't know about the HC and the HC pretty much sneers at humanity and mortality.

  In addition to being a half-breed, I'm also mortal. The HC see me as weak and a loser. But they don't say it to my face anymore. Ash would kick their ass if they did.

  I would kick their asses too, but I don't have Ash's muscles. Mine are buried under a few layers of . . . let's just call it added softness. All right. It's probably more than a few layers.

  I've been working on a new and improved Kate. My previous method of handling issues was to duck and dodge. As a confrontational skill, I don't recommend it. I am now trying to face things head on. Which means being honest in regards to my weight.

  Here goes: I'm very chubby. I cut out the tags in my jeans because I don't like the reminder. I have yet to try a diet that works. Even the magical ones. I can't play sports that involve bats or clubs because my boobs are too big to allow my arms to cross in front of my chest. I don't like sports at any rate because I was always the last one to be picked for a team. Walking is my only exercise and my Chihuahua can walk farther than I can. And I have no desire to eat lettuce for the rest of my life so I will probably always be chubby.

  There. I've said it. Deal with it. I'm still trying to.

  "Wolf packs communicate with growls, yips, yaps and whines. They howl for long-range communication."

  I tugged at Ash's arm again. "He turned the volume up. I have to go and check on him."

  "He's fine." Ash slid his hand down from just below my breasts to my stomach and over to my hip. I tried to suck in really hard when he got to my stomach. "Al and I had a beer before you got home. He's fine."

  Al has been my constant companion for years. I'm crazy about him. Sadly, I'm not in love with him the way he is with me.

  I thought my relationship with Ash would destroy him. Al dealt with it a lot better than I ever expected. Then again, Al has never been one to duck and dodge. In his former life, he was a New Jersey mafia hitman.

  He has a more focused motto about life–site the target, take aim and shoot.

  "He never watches television at three in the morning. I just want to check on him."

  Demon Kings have a long list of amazing qualities like an overabundance of muscles and gorgeous half-dollar sized, gray horns that protrude out over each temple and serious skills in bed.

  Ash is not so good at relating to a vanquished male.

  Even if he is my Chihuahua.

  I couldn't tell you why Al's ghost channels through my Chihuahua. I'm a witch and I know magic, but not all magic.

  "He's trying to get in touch with his animal side." Ash murmured.

  "He's what?"

  "I think it's a great idea."

  I didn't. I thought it was a terrible idea. Up till this point, Al had completely denied the fact that he was dead and his ghost lived inside the fourteen by nine inch body of my Chihuahua.

  I didn't blame him.

  If I woke up one day and discovered that I had been killed and my ghost had decided to take up residence in another body I'd . . . Well, it might depend on the body. If we were talking about a size eight with straight blonde hair that flowed sensuously over my shoulders every time I chuckled sexily then I might not mind.

  On the other hand, if I had been a bad ass hitman and then found myself in the body of a very small Chihuahua who couldn't hold a gun, I would definitely have issues.

  I couldn't hold his refusal to see reality against him.

  It was part of his charm. Sometimes.

  I was also totally used to it.

  I could relate to Al the hitman. I wasn't sure I could relate to Al the Chihuahua.

  Logically I knew he was an actual Chihuahua. I can pick him up now and he poops and pees on my front yard. I got that.

  But when you have argued and laughed and shot down the advances of a hitman, it's hard not to see him as a hitman. No matter how small he physically was.

  "Let me up, Ash."

  "Kate."

  "You better not encourage this either." I turned my head to glare at him over my shoulder. I've learned to be firm with both Chihuahuas and Demon Kings.

  They each have a tendency to run a witch over.

  Ash groaned and rolled onto his back. I jumped out of bed, snagged my robe and headed into my living room.

  My apartment was advertised as a two bedroom. Since my desk and bookshelf barely fit in the other "bedroom" I've always considered that advertising to be false at best.

  A narrow hall bisects the bathroom and two bedrooms from the living room and kitchen.

  Al was lying on the couch with his head on a pillow and his paw on the remote.

  "Wolves can bring down an animal ten times their own size."

  Sweet Spirits, I sincerely hoped he didn't try to do that. He could get seriously injured. He's a very small Chihuahua.

  "Can't sleep?" I sat down next to him and scooped him up.

  Al licked my lips and blinked his bulging, brown watery eyes at me. They get me every time.

  "Hey, Doll. No, I was hot."

  He wasn't. He rarely got hot. Even summers in southeastern Idaho can be cool, especially at night. I made him wear sweaters in the winter.

  The sleeping arrangements had become somewhat complicated since Ash moved in. Previous to Ash's arrival in my bed, Al had slept with me under the covers. Usually between my legs.

  And I'd frequently had to move him. More specifically his little nose.

  He is persistent.

  Now he was bed-less.

  Actually Ash had bought him a very nice plush, black velvet couch trimmed with silver studs and a matching small black velvet pillow.

  Rhinestones between the bottom cushion and the silver studs spelled out Bad Ass.

  I thought it was rude. Al and Ash thought it was hysterical. Ass had been Al's name for Ash until very recently. They treated it as some sort of weird male bonding inside joke. I didn't get it.

  I had placed it on my side of the bed.

  Al only used it when we weren't in the room. The rest of the time he slept in the living room. Both Al and Ash seemed fine with the new arrangements.

  I was not.

  I understood Al was not comfortable sleeping in the same room as us, but I also worried that he was lonely. Or cold.

  He's really very small.

  "Can I get you anything?" I pulled the

fleece blanket from the back of the couch over and tucked it around him.

  Al snuggled into the blanket. "No. I'm good, Doll."

  "The average bite force of a wolf is nearly 400 pounds. A wolf can take down prey with one bite to the neck."

  Al ran his tongue over his little teeth.

  I turned off the TV.

  "I don't think you should be watching this, Al."

  I wasn't sure Al could take down a mouse, much less something bigger. Sweet Spirits, his ego would be crushed if a squirrel got the better of him.

  "Doll, it's time I got in touch with my inner animal."

  Technically he was all animal, but I wasn't going to mention it.

  "I really don't think that is a good idea, Al."

  It was an absolutely terrible idea.

  Al shook off the covers, set his tiny paws on either side of my mouth and gave me the softest lick.

  "It's all right, Doll. I'm fine. Ya don't have to worry. This is just somethin' I need to do."

  Well, damn it.

  I couldn't argue with him. 1) I always lost and 2) His bulging brown eyes always got me. Even if I was right, I still lost.

  "And you feel these National Geographic shows are going to help you?"

  I'd caught a glimpse of sharp teeth, lots of blood and what looked like a meal of raw entrails before I turned off the TV. There was no way Al could eat raw meat. It would upset his stomach. He was partial to manicotti. Preferably homemade.

  "I need to unlock my inner beast."

  And I needed to have a conversation with my secretary. She had been reading a self-help book the other day. Clearly, she'd overshared with my Chihuahua.

  Désirée Norma-Sue, my redneck secretary, had recently escaped being kidnapped by her stalker ex-boyfriend. She'd beat the stuffing out of him and I thought that had resolved any issues she might have had.

  A couple weeks ago, she'd started reading self-help books. And I'd had to revise my opinion. But just a little. Anyone, in my view, who reads "How To Defend Yourself Against ANY Attack in Ten Days" does not have major issues.

  Especially since the subtitle mentioned something about permanent maiming and how to avoid lawsuits.

  I sighed.

  I wasn't sure what kind of inner beast Al had. He was such a loving Chihuahua. I also wasn't sure I was up to appropriately dealing with this right now.

  It was four AM after all.

  My brain kept coming up with images of a really tiny wolf's head emerging from Al's chest like in the movie "Alien" and then an image of Sigourney Weaver dressed in a tank and panties would appear and all I could really think was Damn, she looked good.

  It circled around and around in my head. Especially the image of Sigourney Weaver. Height and a great body. I tried to superimpose my face on the image, but then the tiny wolf's head would pop out of Al's chest and . . . Like I said, it all simply circled.

  And I couldn't use a spell on Al. That would be black magic.

  I'm a good witch.

  "Al, I . . ." What I had was nothing. Zip. Nada. Squat.

  And Sigourney in a tank and panties. My brain was sort of stuck on that image now.

  "It's all right, Doll." Al licked my lips and jumped down onto the couch. I fluffed the blanket around him. "Ya need your sleep. You've got two new clients tomorrow."

  I kissed his furry little head and turned the TV on to the History channel. They were having a Weapons Throughout History marathon.

  Al grunted and snuggled in.

  I sighed and went back down the hall to my bedroom. I felt terrible. And I couldn't get the image of Sigourney Weaver's body out of my mind.

  Ash was still awake.

  "He okay?" Ash lifted the edge of the sheet for me to crawl back in.

  "Maybe. I don't know." I dropped my robe and more or less dove into bed.

  I burrowed into his big body. Ash wrapped his arms around me.

  The warmth of his touch settled me.

  I'd figure out a way to help Al. We'd all figure it out. Al, Ash and I. We had to because I couldn't live without either one of them.

  2. Love, Haters and Karaoke

  I dreamt about Sigourney Weaver. And tiny wolf heads.

  But mostly about Sigourney Weaver.

  I tried to suck my stomach in after I woke up, but it didn't seem to help. Plus I had to pee. After I took care of my bladder, I was in desperate need of coffee and then Ash walked into the kitchen and that took care of both my visions of Ms. Weaver and my thoughts about getting a girdle.

  He slid his arms around me, cupped my ass with both hands and lifted me up into his body. "Good morning," he murmured right before he kissed the hell out of me.

  Actually, since he’s the King of Demons, I must have kissed the hell out of him.

  After several minutes, he set me back down and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  I mostly swayed in place and decided there was no possible way a Demon King could get rid of all the hell in him.

  More's the pity. Ash is tied to his sin. Lust. Which is tied to hell. Which means at some point, probably fairly soon, he will have to go back to hell. His sin will force him back.

  I've been trying to come up with a solution to that problem, but so far I haven't had any luck.

  Turns out demons keep really crappy records about their history. Then again they all live in hell. If I lived there, I doubt I'd have anything memorable to write down either.

  Pages and pages of "It was super hot today." would seem rather repetitive after a while.

  Of course Ash could always make good on his deal with my Aunt Morgause and then he'd be free of hell. But then I would be dead so that didn't work either.

  It's recently come to my attention that I have the worst relative in the entire world and all the realms. Three times over. Bar none.

  You may recall a little story about King Arthur and Guinevere. And those of you with a fondness for tragic tales might even have read about Mordred, the little shit who betrayed Arthur, stole his crown, and married Guinevere. Those are my relatives. Talk about a few skeletons in the broom closet.

  Mordred's aunts caught wind of his evil scheme and they cast a spell to make him mortal so Arthur could kill him in battle and take his revenge.

  Mordred had been a little shit all his life. No one was overly upset about this plan. Except his mother. My many times removed aunt Morgause.

  She took exception and then went about cursing everyone involved–and each subsequent family member–to become mortal and to Fail in Love. I guess that wasn't bad enough, because she also started using black magic to kill off the entire coven as well. She was extremely efficient. There are only three members of our once powerful coven left. And I'd say that's mostly due to pure luck.

  I don't count Morgause as a member of our coven. She's an evil bitch and she haunts my nightmares.

  Before Ash and I fell in love, he made a deal with Morgause. He'd find me and, in return, she would release his tie to hell. Ash wants more out of life than hellfire and brimstone.

  I inadvertently screwed up Ash's plan when he fell in love with me. I'm in love with him, too, so it all works. Aside from my curse, his sin, and my scary aunt with a murderous plan.

  Like I said. I'm working on it.

  "Mornin', Doll." Al wandered into the kitchen, yawning. "Ash."

  "You ready to head outside for a bit?" Ash asked.

  This was something I hadn't quite figured out either. After Ash moved in, he had taken over the task of letting Al out to do his business. I think it was another aspect of their male bonding.

  I also think Ash was peeing on my lawn upon occasion as well.

  I would take him to task over it, but I was fairly certain Phil and Drake, my secretary and my best bud's boyfriends, were also peeing outside when they were with Al.

  I'm a girl so I don't get the appeal of peeing on a tree. I don't have the inclination or the equipment.

  I have been trying to view it as a healthy bonding experience they are all going to get over very soon.

  And I've made a point to cast concealing spells every morning and every night.

  I turned on the small television in my kitchen to the morning news. "I'll have your coffee ready when you come back." I told Al as he and Ash headed down the stairs to the front door.

  I only gave him a small amount in the morning. Like I said, he's a very small Chihuahua.

  Al didn't appear upset or overly tired this morning. I took that as a positive sign. But he hadn't appeared upset before I found him watching graphic wolf shows either. Maybe we needed to have another talk?

 

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