Howlin’ For You (Lunamois #1)

ISABELLA

CHAPTER ONE

“At the stop sign, turn left,” my GPS chirps.

“Yeah, yeah. You said that already,” I snap back as if it’ll respond to me personally. I might be officially losing my mind.

If you were to ask my parents, that boat sailed long ago. Seven years ago, actually. Right around the time I announced I didn’t want to be a doctor after all and I quit med school.

For seven years, I’ve been suffering through temp jobs as I try to figure out what speaks to me. I’ve been an assistant, a barista, and an office manager. But nothing jumped out at me. Each job is in a different little town or big city, and I never stay long enough to make any new friends.

This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place, and I don’t think I’ve ever even had a conversation with any of my four roommates lasting longer than five minutes.

Would I have been more stable as a doctor? Probably, considering my dad was willing to hire me right out of med school at his private practice. But, I couldn’t—and still can’t—imagine living my life like them. With them.

“Turn left now.”

“I got it!” I yell, despite clearly not getting it... or anything at all lately. But the GPS lady doesn’t need to know that.

Yep, losing my mind.

Said parents were inconsolable when I told them I’d be taking my next job in Lunamois, Washington, just because someone named Clover sent me an email. She said she was helping the Mayor with the seventy-fifth anniversary event for the town, and they needed an event planner.

That was not a good enough explanation for my mother, who promptly melted down over what she was going to tell her friends about me. What she was going to tell her sister.

A little part of me revels in that discomfort. In knowing that the other ladies in her life will judge her mercilessly. Talk back to her in ways I never could.

A green sign reading, Lunamois, Washington, five miles ahead, signifies that I’m actually going the right way.

The fact that it’s a known ‘supernatural town’ made the decision for me. I hadn’t heard of it, but after a little research rabbit hole, I found out that they’re a mostly werewolf-inhabited town but are home to many different types of paranormals.

I’ve been fascinated by supernaturals—werewolves specifically—ever since I first heard of them when I was a kid. Becoming something other than the disappointment my mother told me I was held a certain appeal. Even if that transformation would only last for one night a month.

I even prayed I would turn into one when I got my first period, since that’s when my childhood friend Lucy said it would happen.

I very much did not. I was inconsolable for a week.

“You have arrived at your destination.”

My car slows to a stop in front of the small, one-story home with blue shutters on a quiet lane that I’m renting for one month. Little boxes filled with seasonal flowers bloom beneath the large windows. It’s just as cute as it appears in the listing online.

My parents would think this house is basic. They would see the bees happily buzzing from petal to petal or the hummingbird softly whizzing by and call a fucking exterminator.

Part of me aches for this kind of life. For the beauty of simplicity.

As I step out of my sedan, legs aching from the long drive, a small woman opens the front door.

“You must be Isabella!” She waves her hand. “I’m Talia Lane. We spoke on the phone.”

“My new landlord,” I reply with a smile, walking down the cobbled path to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She brightens, cheeks radiating with youthful luminosity. Talia has to be around my age with blonde curls and brown eyes. “Definitely. Let me show you around.”

I nod, following her into the house. I’m greeted with an open floor plan and light—so much sunlight. I didn’t realize from the pictures online, but the back of the house is practically all windows.

“Faces the east,” Talia says with a smile. “Most of our residents prefer to see the moon as it rises.”

My heartbeat picks up, but it’s mostly anxious excitement.

“That makes sense,” I finally reply with a weak smile.

I hide my blush by turning to the living room.

It came fully furnished, and everything looks so cozy and soft.

There are a million pillows on the big, thick, plush couch and probably just as many blankets in the little basket on the floor.

A fall leaves scented candle burns on the mantle, and the colors are a smattering of creams, greens, and blues.

But that’s not the perfect part. The perfect part is how the design is maximalist. There’s a knick-knack on every open space.

It’s as if Talia knew exactly who I am as a person and furnished it for me.

It’s the perfect place to curl up in front of the big, blazing fireplace with a mug of something warm, a steamy book, and dimmed lighting.

“What do you think?” she asks after a few moments.

“It’s beautiful,” I say with a wistful sigh. “I love it.”

Her green eyes dance with amusement, but not in a way that makes me feel made fun of.

I just feel welcome. “Well, considering you already signed the lease, that’s a good thing.

I’ll get out of your hair. Trash pick-ups are on Monday mornings, keys are on the kitchen island, including your mailbox key.

You can CashApp me your rent on the first day of each month and...

I think that’s it! But you have my number if anything comes up. ”

I nod along, happy to be left alone to decompress and process the fact that I actually did this. I actually uprooted my entire life for a temporary job in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by werewolves.

“Perfect. Thank you.”

She leaves with one final wave, and I’m alone in my new home.

My new temporary home, I remind myself. As right as this all feels—which is strange considering I’ve always felt like I’ve blundered through life—I can’t get too attached.

While it’s no secret that I don’t have much to go back home to, I do still have some sort of life there.

The goal is to have a new experience and maybe discover what the hell I’m supposed to be doing with my life.

I will not fall in love with a small town in the middle of nowhere, Washington.

I try to quell the rising disappointment. It’s irrational and unhelpful.

And yet…isn’t my hope that one of these places I visit turns into a real home? Isn’t that why I do this?

I sigh. None of the jobs, towns, or people have worked out before. Why would this time be any different?