Cerridwen Obrey is a witch, but that doesn’t mean she knows much about other paranormals, despite the fact her small town is full of warlocks, werewolves, vampires, and other assorted creatures of the night.

When a chance encounter with a handsome hunk of a werewolf leaves her pregnant, Cerri doesn’t expect anything from the man she never planned to see again. Her child needs a father, and she turns to her friends for help.

A lone wolf with a rough past, Kade’s far from ready to be a father. But when a one-night stand turns into a chance at the family he’s never had, he realizes Cerri may be exactly what he needs to make his life complete. But will he be too late?

EXCERPT

Cerridwen Obrey, Cerri to her friends, looked out the window at the wintry night. Wind howled down the chimney and she shivered, wishing she had wood to build a fire. Her hands rubbed up and down her arms, trying to ease the chill in her limbs. The heat was set on 68 degrees in hopes of saving money on the electric bill. The last one had just about wiped out her bank account.

If she only had money to purchase or rent a storefront along the main strip, she knew her business would flourish. Unfortunately, you had to spend money to make money, and that was in short supply.

She had a workroom set up in her home where she mixed bath oils, massage oils, and made herbal shampoo. She also hand rolled incense sticks, which were her best seller, especially the lavender and sandalwood. She’d seen a Wiccan type of shop in town, and had thought of asking the owner if she would stock a few items and maybe agree to a partnership of sorts, but Cerri hadn’t gotten up the nerve. She still held out hope she could open her own store.

She came from a long line of Pictish witches. She’d been known to cast an occasional spell, but only out of necessity. While her father was Welsh, hence her name, her mother had been Scottish and had taught her the old ways, passed down from mother to daughter as far back as their line could be traced. Cerri had several Pictish tattoos — a blue design on her upper arms covered her from shoulder to elbow, an overblown power band. On her back was a Celtic raven in turquoise and black. The wings spread across her shoulder blades, and the tail dipped to the middle of her back. The tattoos weren’t just art, they were part of who she was.

Looking over her shoulder at her workroom, she knew immersing herself in work would be a sure way to take her mind off the cold, and her recently deceased mother. With a sigh, she headed to her workroom, and lighting some Jasmine incense, began to work on a new shampoo.

* * *

Later that night, Cerri woke to the realization she had fallen asleep at her worktable. Stretching, she winced at the crick in her neck. She frowned, not knowing what had woken her.

Rising from her stool, she pulled her sweater tight around her body, trying to ward off the freezing air. She checked the thermostat in the hall and cringed when she saw the house was registering at 63 degrees. She knew she’d have to raise the temperature to 75 for the house to get warm overnight, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, it seemed the blasted thing was broken again, not that her landlord would care.

She shook her head and looked out over her small living room. Light from the silvery moon illuminated every square inch of the small space. Something drew her to the window, calling to her on a primitive level.

Crossing the small area, she peered out the window and gasped. A large, black wolf stared at her from the snow-covered yard. She wasn’t sure when it had snowed, but a thick blanket covered everything in sight. The animal stared at her with eyes glowing in the night, and a shiver raked her body from head to toe. It felt as if he was looking into her very soul.

Pulling away from the window, she went into the bathroom for a hot shower. She stood under the water, reluctant to leave the warm paradise. Finally, she turned the water off and hurried to the bedroom to put on her pajamas and crawl beneath the covers.

Outside a wolf howled, and she burrowed further under the covers. She just knew it was the wolf she’d seen outside. Having grown up in Los Angeles, she wasn’t used to wildlife, much less having a wolf at her door.