A Dash of Wolf (Moonlight Bay #1)

Chapter 1

“Good morning,” Adeline Beaumont called as the overhead chimes rang out. “Welcome to Crescent Moon Bakery.” She used her magic to slide a tray of Bad-Day Brownies into the display case. “What can I get you, Layla?”

A frazzled vampire stepped forward with a tiny baby in her arms. Dark circles rimmed the mother’s eyes, and her usually sleek ponytail had flyaway strands sticking out all over her head.

“I’ve never been so glad to see those brownies, Adeline.

If Sarah Jane keeps getting her days and nights mixed up, I don’t know what I’m going to do. ”

Adeline smiled at the new mother and slipped two Bad-Day Brownies into a white paper bag. “It’ll pass, Layla, and then you’ll spend your time wondering where it all went and trying to figure out how to get it back.”

Layla jostled the sleeping baby against her shoulder. “I know you’re right.” Her eyes widened when she saw Adeline had given her two brownies. “Oh, I only wanted the one, Adeline.”

Adeline waved her off. “The second one is on me.” She winked at the new mother. “Trust me, you’re going to need two.”

Layla let out a small laugh, then winced when Sarah Jane stirred in her arms. “You’re probably right. You always are.”

The two women slid down the counter so Layla could pay. Before she turned to leave, Layla reached inside the white bag, pinched off a corner of one brownie, and popped it into her mouth and chewed. Adeline saw the tension in her shoulders ease like someone had untied a knot.

“All the hormonal boost without the pills,” Layla joked. “You’re a lifesaver, Adeline. Like everyone else in town, I’m so glad your bakery is here.”

Adeline had opened Crescent Moon Bakery six years ago, against her grandmother’s wishes.

Grandmother Lavinia had wanted her to work at City Hall so Adeline could get a feel for how the town was run and to learn the workings of the council from the inside.

And maybe even one day run for mayor. That thought alone made Adeline’s skin crawl.

There was no way she’d ever run for mayor, much less for a seat on the council.

But Adeline was a Beaumont. And according to Grandmother Lavinia, that meant duty, legacy, and a seat at the council table whether Adeline wanted it or not. To Adeline, it meant people expected things from her that she never signed up for…just because of her last name.

Adeline had been born and raised in Moonlight Bay, and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

But she could very easily imagine not being part of the council, not attending founding family functions, and not having “that Beaumont girl” whispered disapprovingly behind her back every time she protested a new ultra-modern building project or chained herself to a piece of construction equipment.

“Remember how much you love my bakery,” Adeline said, “the next time I need bail money.”

Layla laughed. “I will. Promise.”

A warm gust of August wind blew inside as Layla exited the bakery with her sleeping daughter.

Established in 1683, Moonlight Bay was a crescent-shaped harbor town tucked into the Georgia coast just south of Savannah.

It was invisible to the human world, as were all supernatural towns and cities across the globe.

At the time of the town’s establishment centuries ago, four founding families—consisting of witches, vampires, werewolves, and fairies—had planted the Grandmother Tree at the center of town.

Each family had placed something special that represented them at the roots of the tree to bind the town together peacefully.

“It’ll give Layla good practice,” Princess Muffin Top, her giant smoke Maine Coon, said from her perch near the register.

“What will?” Adeline asked absently as she grabbed a tray of Cocoa-Courage Truffles from the kitchen pass-through.

Princess Muffin Top lifted one of her massive paws in the air as though examining it. “Paying your bail money. If Layla’s little bundle of joy is anything like you, the kid will need plenty of bail money before she even gets out of high school.” The cat smirked at Adeline. “You did.”

“Oh, hush! Or I’ll forget to feed you treats tonight.”

Princess Muffin Top yawned, baring her sharp teeth, then slowly turned her head as though Adeline had suddenly ceased to exist. Which didn’t surprise Adeline one bit.

Ever since the cat had knocked over and ingested the truthful assertion potion Adeline had brewed for a friend three years ago, things around the bakery and her home hadn’t been the same.

The potion was supposed to have helped a painfully shy vampire speak up for herself at work.

Instead, it gave Adeline’s cat the permanent ability to say exactly what she thought, out loud, to everyone... with absolutely zero filter.

“Oh, please,” Princess Muffin Top said dryly.

“You know I’m right.” Before Adeline could respond, the overhead bell chimed again, and the cat’s head swiveled toward the door.

“Oh, joy. That annoying werewolf woman just walked in. Wanna bet she orders something ridiculous like love-struck sprinkles?”

Adeline shot Princess Muffin Top a look she hoped said, “Shut your furry mouth!” without her actually having to say the words aloud.

Most of the supernaturals in Moonlight Bay were used to Princess Muffin Top’s brutal honesty by now, but it still made Adeline’s stomach clench every time the cat spoke.

The last thing she needed was for her loyal customers to think she and the cat shared the same opinions.

Adeline hurried down to the display case and smiled at the newlywed. “Hey there, Nannette. How are you this morning?”

The werewolf gave her a tight smile. “Fine. I’ll just have an almond croissant this morning, Adeline.”

Princess Muffin Top scoffed. “She’s obviously not fine, Adeline. That order alone tells me she’s about to file for divorce.” The Maine Coon stretched her other paw across the counter and examined it. “Am I right, Nannette? You’re crying out for help, aren’t you, dear?”

Nannette’s eyes went wide as she stared open-mouthed at Adeline. “How does she know that?”

Adeline gasped. “What? Nannette, I’m so sorry. I thought you and Charlie were solid.”

A tear slid down Nannette’s cheek, and she swiped at it with the back of her hand. “I thought we were, too. But I guess not. The last few weeks have been awful, Adeline.”

Adeline reached inside the display case and slipped a Bad-Day Brownie into the bag alongside the croissant. “I put one of my brownies in there. No charge, Nannette.”

Nannette sniffed. “Thanks, Adeline. I know it’ll help. Your sweets always do.”

“Good luck with Charlie,” Adeline said. “Keep me posted.”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of white paper bags and familiar faces.

Adeline tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear as she boxed a half-dozen Cocoa-Courage Truffles for a nervous fairy.

Then she bagged a pair of Zest-for-Life lemon scones for the witch who ran the candle shop two doors down.

Soon after that, she plated a Time-Twirl cinnamon roll for old Mr. Harwick, a vampire who came in every morning at ten-fifteen and ordered the exact same thing.

She’d just finished sliding in a tray of Good-Luck Mango Muffins when the overhead bell chimed, and a harried mother with three young werewolf boys barreled into the bakery. The smallest one immediately locked eyes on Princess Muffin Top and bolted for the counter.

“Kitty!” he cried, his hands raised in the air.

Princess Muffin Top’s ears flattened. “Do not even think about touching me with those sticky, disgusting little hands. I just finished grooming myself. I will bite you, Werewolf Pup, if you come any closer.”

The little boy skidded to a halt, his eyes wide. His two brothers crashed into him from behind, and their mother let out a laugh that had the unmistakable ring of a woman about to have a nervous breakdown.

“Honestly, Princess Muffin Top,” the woman said, “I’ve wanted to say those exact words so many times.” She herded the boys toward a table. “One more week until school starts back up, Adeline. One. More. Week. That’s all I need to survive.”

“Could be worse.” Herschel, an elderly leprechaun in a tweed vest sitting near the window, waved his half-eaten Soother Scone in the air. “You could be old like me and suffering from every kind of pain there is.”

Princess Muffin Top snorted. “Oh, pipe down, Leprechaun. You and I both know you’re still as spry as they come. You just eat those Soother Scones for the sympathy.”

Herschel slapped the table and laughed so hard his eyes watered. “She got me good with that one, Adeline.”

The mother paid for her order, then ushered her boys toward the archway that connected the bakery to the other half of the building where Moonbeam Coffee and Tea was located. “Better go get me an espresso to keep on going. See you, Adeline. Thanks for the treats.”

Adeline smiled and watched them disappear through the wide archway.

When Adeline and her best friend, Emory Ashgrove, had bought the building six years ago, they’d decided to knock down the dividing wall so customers could flow between the two rooms effortlessly.

Sweets from Adeline, and caffeine from Emory.

Between them, they covered most of Moonlight Bay’s daily coping mechanisms.

Herschel pushed himself up from his chair. “I better get going, too. The cobblestones aren’t going to sweep themselves.” He scowled and looked out the window. “Well, they probably could if someone spelled them to.”

Adeline laughed. “You should bring that up at the next council meeting.”

Herschel scoffed and pushed in his chair. “Fat lot of good it would do me.” He tipped an imaginary hat at Princess Muffin Top—who ignored him completely—and shuffled out the door.