The Otter's Tale Read online

  Into the Paranormal World: Getting lost in the woods, an otter shifter discovers a treasure beyond value.

  While helping out some of his buddies, Aziel Boltson learns the creatures that go bump in the night are real. His mother’s stories are true—gargoyles, shifters, and more actually exist. The local paranormals—a gargoyle clutch—have an estate north of town. Aziel loves using the natural wildlife as an outdoor gym, lifting tree branches and swimming in the pond. Spotting the pond’s local gator going after a huge otter, Aziel moves to intervene. He ends up injured, but it’s not all bad. The otter turns into the sexiest man Aziel has ever seen—Jerome Laguna. While he’s never been with a guy, he can’t help but want this one. To Aziel’s pleasure, Jerome claims he is his mate. Unfortunately, a prophesy of Aziel’s mother’s rears its ugly head in the form of Jerome’s family attempting to hunt him down and take him back to the Amazon. Can Aziel and his friends help Jerome escape his otter family’s clutches or will the prophesy be fulfilled, forcing Aziel to lose his one true love and his future in one fell swoop?

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  The Otter’s Tale

  Copyright © 2017 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1396-5

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  The Otter’s Tale

  A Paranormal’s Love: Book Twenty

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.

  ~Lao Tzu

  Chapter One

  Jerome Laguna needed to let his giant otter out in the worst way. Unfortunately, with summer ramping up and more and more humans spending time outdoors, finding a secluded pond was becoming harder and harder. He hoped by coming into the small town and posing as an out of town fisherman, he could find someone who could tell him about secluded fishing holes.

  It’d be true, too. He could spend a day in his giant otter form and eat local fish. It’d fill his belly and save on his ever-dwindling cash supply.

  Doing his best to ignore his growing need, Jerome headed into a diner-style restaurant—Goldy’s Burgers & Bites. He chose it for the small rainbow flag over the door. While he knew he didn’t look it, he was as gay as the day was long and did his best to patron those who celebrated love and acceptance.

  Not like my own pod.

  Dismissing the reminder of why he was on the road to begin with, Jerome smiled at the perky blonde behind the hostess stand as she welcomed him to the restaurant. In response to her question—table or booth—he requested a booth. As he followed her, he noticed an odd tinge to her smell.

  It wasn’t until Jerome was seated that he recognized what it was. While the blonde—Penelope, according to her name tag—was human, she was mated with a shifter of some kind.

  Damn. I’ve stumbled upon some pack’s territory.

  Jerome wasn’t aware of any packs in the area, which was why he’d decided to travel this way. He’d wanted to discreetly make his way north to a place west of Denver. He’d heard there was a gay alpha up there, Declan McIntire—one mated to a human—and wanted to ask for sanctuary. He’d heard of a few others, but considering how his own alpha had spoken of Declan with such ridicule, he’d seemed the best place to start.

  Plus, the wolf shifter’s pack lived in secluded mountains. Surely there’d be plenty of streams and ponds for Jerome’s otter to play in. It was a win, win.

  If I can get there without running into local shifters.

  When a young waiter named Jimmy arrived at Jerome’s table to take his order, he felt a sense of relief that the human didn’t smell of shifter, too. Perhaps Penelope was an anomaly. Knowing he couldn’t rely on that, Jerome quickly placed his order.

  I’ll need to eat fast and get moving again.

  When Jimmy returned with the iced tea Jerome had ordered, he smiled at the cute man and asked, “Have you lived in the area long?” He spotted a bit of pink rise in Jimmy’s cheeks and realized how that could have sounded—like a come on. Needing to dispel that notion, since Jerome needed seclusion, not company, he quickly added, “I’m in town for a few days and looking for some good fishing holes. Know any quiet, out of the way places? Or maybe know a place where I can get information?”

  For a second, Jimmy looked a little disappointed, but he replied swiftly enough. “I’m not much of a fisherman, but my brother is.” He paused, his cheeks darkening further as he cleared his throat. “He had a favorite fishing hole. Said it was a great place for trout and only a few people knew about it. Got a map?”

  That sounded just about perfect. “Uh, just a road map,” he replied, turning to his backpack and pulling it out. “Will this work?”

  Jimmy peered down at the state road map Jerome spread across the table. Resting one hand on the table, he skimmed the forefinger of his other slender hand over the Durango area. “Hmmm, I should be able to get you close with this. If you had a local map, it’d be easier but... ” He hummed as his soft voice trailed away. “Here. It’s near this mile marker. There should be a dirt road that leads north,” Jimmy told him, tapping at a point on the map. “You don’t mind traveling on a dirt road, do you? It’ll probably be pretty rugged. You’ll need a jeep or truck or something like that.”

  Hearing the warning in Jimmy’s voice, Jerome nodded. He didn’t bother to say that he didn’t have a vehicle. He was on foot. Instead, he asked, “So, there’s a secluded pond or river up there?”

  Jimmy nodded and pointed again. “See this river here?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, there’s a bunch of small tributaries that feed into it in this area,” Jimmy explained, making a circle with his finger on the map to indicate a general area. “Probably dozens of ponds of various sizes. The bigger ones have fish.”

  Jerome shifted in his seat, his excitement building. If there were dozens of streams and small ponds, that meant frogs and lizards and secluded area. His otter chittered in his mind, urging him to get moving.

  “Thanks, Jimmy.” Jerome leaned back in his seat and smiled up at the slender dark-haired male. “I sure appreciate it.”

  “Sure,” Jimmy replied. He then glanced around and must have noticed another customer needing assistance, for he told him, “Good luck,” then moved away.

  Following Jimmy’s movements with his gaze, Jerome admired his lithe form and pert ass. If he’d been inclined to fuck, he realized the young male was certainly cute enough. Still, there was just something about the human that screamed innocence, even with the odd blush and hesitation he’d sported—or maybe in spite of it.

 
; Jerome dismissed his thoughts. His prick might have perked up a little at the idea, but his otter needed out more than he needed a tight ass around his cock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone two weeks without shifting.

  Walking and hitching through the desert certainly hadn’t been conducive to finding a hidden body of water.

  Carefully folding the map so the area Jimmy had indicated was on top, Jerome took several slow deep breaths. He calmed his otter, knowing it’d be a good half a day of walking before he reached the area Jimmy had indicated. In a town of this size, he didn’t want to run the risk of hitch-hiking to the area. It could raise too many questions by a local.

  Jerome tucked his map away, then reached for his tea. He took a big sip, enjoying the tasty bitter liquid. One of the things he’d come to appreciate as he traveled was the opportunity to try different local foods.

  Iced tea had become an instant favorite.

  Staring out the window, Jerome’s impatience grew with each passing minute. He knew it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before his food arrived. Between his need to find a place to shift and his fear that Penelope’s mate would walk through the door and scent him, he wanted to get moving.

  Jerome pulled out a battered copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and tried to distract himself. He’d just reached the part where the main character realized his friend was actually an alien and that he’d truly been taken into space, when Jimmy put his plate of food in front of him. Putting the paperback down, he offered Jimmy a smile.

  “Thanks,” Jerome said, peering at his food. “It smells amazing.”

  The beer battered fish and chips did, too.

  Yum!

  “If you need anything, just let me know,” Jimmy offered. He pointed at Jerome’s half-full glass of tea. “I’ll bring you another in a minute.”

  Taking in the plate, Jerome nodded as he settled his napkin on his lap. “You know,” he began, returning his focus to Jimmy. “Can I get extra tartar sauce?”

  “Of course,” Jimmy responded, grinning. “I’ll bring that out in just a minute with your tea.”

  “Thank you.”

  After Jimmy had begun moving away, Jerome refocused on his food. He picked up the bottle of ketchup and poured a dollop of it along the side of the basket where his fries were. Once he’d place it back near the card listing the daily specials, he picked up a fry, dipped it into the ketchup, and popped it into his mouth.

  Jerome hummed appreciatively as the salty potato taste exploded on his taste buds, mixing perfectly with the rich tomato paste. Humming appreciatively, he dipped another fry and ate it, too. As he chewed and swallowed, he picked up his fork and tore off a chunk of fried fish filet. He dipped the bite of fried goodness into the small tub of tartar sauce that came with the meal, scooping up a large dollop.

  Easing the forkful into his mouth, Jerome closed his lips around it and grunted softly. Oh, that’s good. He didn’t know what spice the cook put in the beer batter they fried the fish in, but it contained just a hint of something that Jerome found he loved.

  The thought of returning to the restaurant for a repeat before moving on pushed into his mind.

  Seeing Penelope escorting another party past where he sat dispelled the idea.

  Too risky.

  Jerome grinned at Jimmy when he brought him a fresh iced tea and another cup of tartar. Since his mouth was full, he didn’t try responding. A smiling Jimmy asked if everything tasted okay, so Jerome hummed and gave him a thumbs up.

  Jimmy chuckled. “That’s one of the chef’s partner’s favorites right there,” he told him, pointing at the meal. “He loves the flavor, too.”

  Then Jimmy headed away, sparing Jerome needing to come up with a response. He focused on eating, relishing the tasty, fatty meal. Sharing his spirit with an otter along with being a shifter, he had a high metabolism and needed a little extra weight on him. Walking for hours each day across a desert state such as Arizona, he’d lost weight. He’d learned to take in extra calories any way he could. The fried meal before him was a wonderful, tasty way of doing that.

  When Jerome finished, he found himself sorely tempted to order a piece of pie. Upon hearing Jimmy’s high praise of the boysenberry pie, he gave in but ordered it to go. When it arrived in a Styrofoam container, Jerome carefully placed it into his backpack so it wouldn’t spill.

  After paying at the front, Jerome headed to the back restroom. He glanced around, making certain it was empty, then used the sink to refill his three plastic bottles. After returning them to his backpack, he headed out of the restaurant and into the heat of the day.

  Jerome headed down the road and made his way out of town. When he was about two miles north of town, he paused and pulled out his map. After peering at it carefully, he started walking again.

  He figured it took around forty-five minutes to reach the road he needed to turn down. Glancing each way, he checked for traffic. Once he’d crossed the road, he picked up his pace, paying careful attention to the mile markers.

  Excitement built inside Jerome the closer he came to where Jimmy had indicated. He finally spotted the mile marker the human had told him a half mile in the distance. Keeping a sharp eye on the foliage to the north, he kept expecting to see a dirt road in the distance.

  Jerome was just beginning to think Jimmy had been mistaken, his excitement becoming overshadowed by disappointment, when he spotted a dirt road. His heart began to pound, and he grinned. Speeding up, he turned down the road.

  Glancing between trees, Jerome inhaled deeply. He enjoyed the heady scent of pine and earth. The trill of birds filled the air broken intermittently by the rustle of critters in the underbrush.

  With renewed excitement giving rise to a fresh surge of energy, Jerome followed the dirt road. Jimmy had been right, and Jerome understood his truck or jeep suggestion. There were deep ruts in the road, which would probably make it very difficult for anything but a vehicle with a high undercarriage to pass.

  Wandering slowly, Jerome kept his senses on alert. He kept breathing deeply in the hopes of scenting the water of which Jimmy spoke. Finally, he noticed the increase in moisture in the air.

  Grinning, Jerome began to jog, his otter urging him on.

  Within fifteen minutes of running carefully, Jerome stumbled to a stop and gaped. His breath left him in a whoosh as he peered at the huge pond before him. Anticipation thrummed through him.

  Before him, the green surface of the several acre pond called to him. Every once in a while he spotted a ripple, telling him something moved within its depths. He couldn’t wait to discover what it was.

  To Jerome’s left, a large stream rushed into the body of water. He viewed the ripples and rapids it created, knowing fish would find their home amidst the currents there. That’d be his best bet to find some.

  Sweeping his gaze around the area, Jerome took in the muddy, sometimes fern-covered banks. He spotted plenty of insect activity and critter prints. Knowing that meant there was plenty of food for tadpoles, which meant frogs and lizards, even snakes, Jerome licked his lips.

  Plenty of food for my otter.

  Jerome grinned as he quickly began stripping. He just caught himself before he tore his clothes with his excitement. Carefully removing his t-shirt—after all, he only had a couple of them—he folded it and placed it on his backpack. He did the same with his jeans, placed his shoes beside the bag, and tucked his socks into his shoes.

  Blessedly nude, Jerome called to his otter.

  Easing to a crouch at the fern-covered bank, Jerome felt the change sweep through him. His skin tingled as his fur grew, insulating him from the water’s cold. He felt his bones, tendons, and muscles crack and pop as his body morphed into that of a giant otter. The pressure and pinch to his head felt almost as odd as the itch of his whiskers growing.

  Jerome rubbed at his face with one foreclaw, easing the odd sensation to his now-pointed face. He settled on his
belly and slid into the water. His tail swished up and down as he moved. Chirruping softly, Jerome reveled in the freedom of swimming as his otter after so long stuck in human form.

  Noting the depth of the large pond, the frogs and tadpoles that scuttled from his path, Jerome realized he could be very happy right there for a few days. The pond was so big it could almost be called a lake. He could let his otter play, and he’d relish his freedom—freedom that the leaders of his pod had tried to take away.

  So very wonderful.

  Chapter Two

  Aziel Boltson lowered the bar back to the weight bench’s cradle. “Fifteen,” he muttered, counting off his last rep. Sucking in a deep breath, he peered up at Aaden Hauser, who was spotting him. “How much weight you want off?”

  “Eh, maybe only a hundred pounds,” Aaden responded, his tone teasing. “How you bench press three hundred pounds is beyond me.”

  Chuckling, Aziel rose from the bench and began removing weights so Aaden could take his turn. “It isn’t nearly that much,” he responded softly. “You’re just exaggerating.”

  Aaden was the quarterback of their college football team and had come to be a good friend to Aziel and his best buds, Andre and Mitch. They worked out together, studied together, and had each other’s backs on and off the field.

  Good thing, too, since that meant they had each other to lean on when they’d learned that paranormals existed.

  My momma’s stories are true.

  Aziel had loved the bedtime stories his mother had told. When she’d died when he was fourteen, he’d missed her so damn much. Still, he’d had his older brother—Aaron—and his father, Prion Boltson.

  Learning that a clutch of gargoyles resided north of town had given Aziel a new family, not that he’d ever forget Aaron. His father had passed two years before, and his brother was already married and living in Colorado Springs.