Starstruck: The Moon and the Stars, Book 1 (Werewolf Shifter Romance) E-Book

Mac Flynn

• Herausgeber: Crescent Moon Studios, Inc.
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Elizabeth Edmonds is a normal, clumsy woman working at a small, normal bakery. That is, until one night leads her on a chance encounter with a movie star manager. The star himself wants to get to know her. She isn’t so sure, but after a terrifying encounter with an interesting beast, she decides there’s something more going on and agrees to see him.

Paul Lupe is a brooding movie star with a terrible secret. He’s able to transform into a monstrous wolf creature. Worse, his career is on the down-slide and he needs a way to garner attention. His manager comes up with a scheme to show off an ordinary woman. They go in search of one, and she’s more than he expected. He feels drawn to her through a deeper connection than he cares to admit.

Together they and their friends embark on a strange new adventure as a series of murders rock their city. Something furry and monstrous is attacking reporters, and they have to figure out who and stop them before Paul’s secret becomes more than an open scandal. It becomes a dangerous fact for all of them.

Leseprobe

STARSTRUCK

THE MOON AND THE STARS, BOOK 1

MAC FLYNN

Copyright © 2019 by M. Flynn

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Continue the adventure

Other series by M. Flynn

1

Horror movies had nothing on this experience. That’s because this was real.

Their hearts pounded as the couple, a young man and woman, raced down the deserted street. Their quick, short breaths were in time with the pounding of their feet on the cracked sidewalk. The man dragged his slower companion past the faint halos of the flickering street lamps as the shadows of the tall commercial buildings loomed over them.

They reached an alley. The young man turned into the side road and pulled her in with him. He pressed his back against the brick wall of the small bookstore and drew her close to his side. The darkness aided them by concealing them from clear view.

The young woman clutched his coat and glanced in the direction they came. Her voice was a high-pitched squeak that bordered on a scream. “Is it gone, Emery? Did we lose it?”

He clapped his hand over her mouth and glared at her. “Shut up, Kelcy!”

A noise came from the street. They held their breath. Kelcy quaked in Emery’s arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks. A cold breeze blew across the streams and chilled her.

A plastic bag blew by. Its crinkling noise was what they heard. They both relaxed. He removed his hand from her mouth. “I think it’s gone.”

Kelcy leaned against the wall beside Emery. She clutched her chest and glanced at her boyfriend. “What do you think that thing was?”

He leaned his head against the wall and shook it. “I don’t know. It looked like a giant dog, or maybe a man in a furry suit. You know, like in those old cheesy horror movies.”

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “You mean like a werewolf?”

He rolled his eyes upward. “Come on, Kelcy, you know those things… don’t-” His eyes widened.

She frowned at him. “What? What’s-” She followed her gaze and tilted her head back. Her heart stopped.

Above them in a fire escape knelt the hairy beast. The creature was six and a half feet tall and covered in a thick layer of soft gray fur. A pair of ruined dress pants covered its waist. The face was elongated into a narrow snout, and its ears ended in sharp points. Its claws dug into the grates of the fire escape landing, and its lips were curled back to reveal long, sharp teeth. Drool dripped from its mouth and its yellow eyes gazed down at them with a feral hunger.

Kelcy grabbed Emery’s arm. “E-Emery.”

He swallowed and slid toward the opening to the alley. “N-nice doggy. Good doggy.”

The creature backed up to the raised ladder. It hit the ladder with one of its back legs. The metal ladder clattered down and stopped two feet from the ground.

Emery grabbed Kelcy’s hand and pulled her away from the ladder. “Run!”

The pair sprinted onto the street. Kelcy glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she watched the monster drop through the open ladder hole and to the puddle-riddled ground. Its claws dug deep into the mud-slicked ground and left long scratches as the thing scrambled after them.

Emery led her into the road. Kelcy tripped and tumbled onto the hard pavement. The headlights of an oncoming vehicle flooded over them. Emery waved his arm wildly over his head. The driver slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop just feet from them.

The owner leaned out his window and glared at them. “What’s the big idea?”

Emery pulled Kelcy to her feet and hurried to the rear passenger door. They dove inside and Emery leaned over the back of the driver’s seat.

“Step on it if you won’t want to die!” he screamed.

The driver’s eyes widened. He looked ahead and punched on the gas. The car burned rubber for a few seconds before the wheels found traction and jumped ahead. Kelcy turned in the seat and glanced out the rear window.

The street was empty. The monster had vanished.

The driver glanced at them through the rear view mirror. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Emery fell back against the seat beside Kelcy and shook his head. “Something too crazy even for the movies.”

2

“Another month, and another month gone without a movie offer.”

The speaker was a tall man on the good side of middle age. He wore a crisp gray business suit that suited his slim physique. The man plopped himself into a chair in the large drawing room and looked at the luxurious home around him. There were priceless vases atop wooden cabinets, paintings of landscapes and people on the walls, and a real wood floor that was carpeted with oriental rugs of various ancient vintages. A fire burned in the hearth to his right, the mantle large enough to roast a small heifer over those warm flames.

To his left was the open doors to the drawing room where he glimpsed a large foyer. The floor there was marble with white walls filled with paintings. Across the foyer he glimpsed the long dining room with a thick oak table and accompanying chairs that could easily fit two dozen people. His lips twitched upward as he thought about all the silver utensils safely locked away.

“A couple more months like this and you might have to sell some of this stuff,” he added.

The man spoke to a darkly handsome gentleman of thirty-five who sat opposite him on a long couch. The man was a touch over six feet tall with short, black, wavy hair that was combed back, but not tamed, and he had short sideburns. He had a chiseled face, and his dark eyes were partially hidden under bushy eyebrows. The shadows gave him a heavy expression that hid all his emotions but anger. The rest of his build was long and stocky, but not out of proportion. He lounged in the corner of the couch on his back with one arm slung over his eyes and the other draped over the back.

The man barely stirred. “You’re my manager. Find something.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, Paul. I can’t just make someone want to offer you a movie,” the first man argued.

Paul removed his arm from his face and glanced at the short man. “Then what do I pay you for?”

The other man frowned. “Come on, Paul, don’t kid like that. You’re not going to get rid of Al List after all these years, are you?”

“Who said I was kidding?” Paul returned as he sat up. He winced and rubbed his eyes.

Al studied Paul’s clothes and face. His pants were torn to above the knees and his shirt was wrinkled. There were dark pouches under his eyes. Dark blotches of dirt and mud speckled his clothes, and his shoes were missing. The tattered, filthy remains of his socks were wrapped loosely around his ankles.

Al sighed and drew a flask from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He unscrewed the top and took a swig before he nodded at Paul’s attire. “What time did you get back in?”

Paul raised his eyes to Al and frowned. “What time do you think I got in?” he snapped.

Al shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe a few minutes before dawn? An hour after slaughtering someone’s expensive chihuahua?”

“Al, why don’t you stop being an idiot and go find me some parts?” Paul told him.

Al slumped in his chair and threw up his hands. “How am I supposed to do that for a moody drama star, huh? You haven’t had a hit in years and the box office returns on your last movie weren’t that great.”

“If you want to remind me of my failures then you may as well get out of here,” Paul growled.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to the guy who’s going to jump-start your career?” Al scolded him as he tucked the flask back into its pocket.

Paul arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? How?”

A big grin spread across Al’s face as he leaned forward. “By getting you a girlfriend.”

Paul’s face drooped and his eyebrows crashed down. “A girlfriend? That’s it?”

Al frowned. “What do you mean ‘that’s it?’ That’s everything! It’s the answer to your problems!”

“How?” Paul questioned him.

“Well, just think about it,” Al continued as he leapt to his face and paced the floor in front of his client. “You pick up a new girl and the press takes notice. You get noticed and the movie roles come pouring in.”

Paul shook his head. “It won’t work.”

Al stopped his pacing and frowned. “Why not?”

“Models have been done before,” Paul reminded him.

Al shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking about a model. I was thinking a normal girl.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “And what is a ‘normal girl?’”

Al shrugged. “You know, a Plain Jane or something like that. One of those girls who didn’t get to be prom queen but was worth a kiss or two in the dark corner.”

“So, we what? Go to an agency and ask for a rent-a-girlfriend?” Paul asked him.

Al dropped back into his chair and shrugged. “If you don’t like my idea then I’d like to hear you give me a better one.”

Paul leaned back and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “With a plan like what you’ve got it’d be a better idea to wait.”

“You haven’t even let me finish telling you about my plan,” Al argued.

Paul tilted back his head, closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine, finish it.”

“So we get a plain girl or someone like that, and we set her up as this big mystery woman, see?” Al explained to him. “Then we take her to a premier or big party and show her off for the cameras. We get attention and the movie roles come rolling in.”

Paul tilted his head back and frowned at Al. “You forget one very important problem.”

Al blinked at him. “What’s that?”

“My ‘condition,’” Paul reminded him.

Al rolled his eyes. “Come on. It’s not like we’re going to be picking her up for a night of fun and you’ll go all wolfy on her.” Paul’s eyes narrowed and Al was quick to hold up his hands in front of him. “All right, all right, talking about your ‘condition’ is off-limits today. I get it. Anyway, it’s just one night, two tops, and then we never see her again. No touching, no biting, no problem.”

Paul sighed and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “And where do you propose we find this Plain Jane?”

Al grinned and leaned forward. “How about we go for a ride tonight?”

Paul opened one eye and arched an eyebrow. “What for?”

Al rolled his eyes. “So we can find the girl without someone spotting us.”

Paul leaned forward so his elbows were on his legs, and his eyes stared across at Al. “The more you talk the worse your idea sounds.”

“Just hear me out,” Al pleaded as he jumped to his feet and slipped behind Paul. Al leaned over the back of the couch and lowered his voice. “Listen, we’re looking for a normal girl, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“And a lot of normal girls work, right?” Al continued.

“What’s your point, Al?” Paul snapped.

“So, a lot of normal girls get off work at five. We can pick one out then,” Al finished.

“The cops are going to see us and wonder what we’re doing staring at a bunch of women at night on street corners,” Paul pointed out.

“We’re only going to be picking up one, and that’s if we find the right one,” Al countered.

Paul sighed and clutched half his face in one hand. “Fine, you win. But we’ll only try it tonight, and if we don’t find her then that’s it. We’re done.” He lifted his head and stared into Al’s eyes. “Got it?”

Al grinned and clapped his hands together. “No problem, Paul! I’ll be back here at five and we can go around town looking for her together.” He patted him on the shoulder. “And don’t worry so much. This’ll turn out to be my best plan ever.”

Paul looked ahead and pursed his lips. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

3

“The buns!”

The cry of anguish came from a stout, middle-aged man. He wore a hairnet over his bald head and an apron over the front of his large belly. His finger pointed at a stack of ovens against the wall, and one of them exuded a clear trail of black smoke.

A young woman of twenty-five rushed to the rescue. Her face was plain, but not ugly, and her long, dirty-blond hair was tucked precariously into the all-too-small hairnet. A few loose hairs edged her smooth face, and her brown, bright eyes finished off her matching look. She, too, wore a white apron. She opened the door and was met with a face-full of smoke.

“Shut off the oven!” the man yelled.

The young woman leapt at the button and pressed it. The machine clicked off, but the smoke continued to float out the open door. The man pushed her to the side and slammed the door shut. He slumped his back against the wall beside the oven and wiped his brow before he turned his attention to his companion. The young woman cringed beneath his disapproving frown.

“What did I tell you about this oven, Elizabeth?” he asked her.

She shrank beneath his ire and her voice came out a tad squeaky. “To always watch it?”

“And what didn’t you do?”

“Always watch it?”

“And what are you going to do now?”

Her shoulders fell and she hung her head. “Hang up my apron and go home.”

The gruff man pursed his lips and sighed. He straightened and set a large, heavy hand on her shoulder. She dared to look up into his stern face.

“When the going gets tough you never give up, you hear?” he told her.

She looked past him at the oven. The interior was blackened beyond compare. Her shoulders slumped. “But all those buns…” she reminded him.

“We can make more tomorrow, but only if you pay attention,” he scolded her. A faint ghost of a smile slipped onto his lips. “Otherwise, I’ll have to dock it off your perk pay.”

She winced. “So, no more dozen donuts a week?”

He nodded. “For a month.”

Elizabeth sighed but gave a nod. “I understand, and I’m really sorry, Mr. Baxter. I just don’t know how I forgot-”

“It’s because your heart wasn’t in it,” he told her.

Mr. Baxter dropped his hand and walked around her to the desk at the front wall of the kitchen. Elizabeth remained near the far right wall beside the triple stack of ovens. On either side of the ovens were plain walls with a few silver trays stacked on the shelves of tall, wheeled carts. To the left of the wall of carts was the back of the small store with an exit door and a long counter with a large sink. The wall that Baxter approached was also surrounded by a long counter and several cabinets filled with ingredients for the confectionery ingredients. The center of the bakery held a large island with storage under the counter top for pots and pans. Those that couldn’t fit or were used nearly constantly hung above the island for easy access.

The front of the store lay beyond the front wall and through the wide doorway. The small shop was covered wall-to-wall in angled trays of white paper covered in the remains of that day’s unsold donuts, cakes, cookies, breads, and other assorted pastries. There weren’t many left, and tomorrow they would all be priced down and sold within minutes. Baxter’s Bakery had a solid customer base because of its solid baking, so there were very few days where Mr. Baxter had to gift out food to the local shelters.

Mr. Baxter untied his apron and tossed the cloth over the desk before he turned to Elizabeth. He folded his arms over his ample chest and studied her downcast face. “So why did you forget?”

She turned her face away and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess my mind was on other things.”

He chuckled. “That wouldn’t be about a man, would it?”

She snorted and shook her head. “No worries about that. The only man who’s ever been in my life is my dad.”

“And he was a good man,” Baxter added before he leaned his rear against the desk and set his large hands on the top behind him. “But perhaps that’s the problem. Here you are cooped up in a bakery all day with an old man like me. You need to get out and meet more people.”

Elizabeth held up a hand. “I can do-”

“-without a man,” Baxter finished for her. “You keep saying that, but I see you leave here night after night with no one to meet you and I don’t like it.” He wagged his finger at her. “You don’t like it much, either. I can see it in your eyes.”

Elizabeth removed her apron and hairnet and folded the items over one arm. “Well, tonight you don’t have to worry about that because I’ve got someone waiting for me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Who?”

She hung her uniform on a hook nailed into the dividing wall between the bakery and shop and shrugged. “Una.”

He snorted. “Una is not a man.” He paused and stroked his chins. A mischievous smile curled the corners of his lips. “Though I sometimes wonder. She is a little odd.”

Elizabeth laughed and pulled down his arm. “Odd and not a man, yes, but not a bad roommate, as far as roommates go.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I still wish it was a man you were meeting.”

She sighed and patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe someday, but this Friday night is not a day, and I need to get home and wash the smell of my failure out of my clothes and hair. Una gets off early tonight and that’s why she’s going to meet me.” She leaned forward and pecked a platonic kiss on the older gentleman’s cheek. “Goodnight, Mr. Baxter, and thanks for putting up with me.” She strode past him towards the front door.

Mr. Baxter shook himself from the allure of the gentle kiss, spun around to frown at her retreating back. “Don’t make me put your name in a husband-wanted ad!”

She paused at the door, flipped the sign so it read ‘Closed,’ and smiled at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Baxter.”

She stepped out of the bakery and walked down the street. Through the large front windows Mr. Baxter glimpsed her meet another young woman of short stature with short, bobbing brown hair. Night had already fallen, and the streetlight illuminated their bright smiles. They walked down the street and disappeared around the corner.

He sighed and shook his head. “That little Lilly deserves a good man. Such a pity there aren’t many of those left.”

4

“Geez, there’s a lot of ugly girls out tonight,” Al commented.

Al and Paul sat in Paul’s short limo. It was just after five o’clock that Friday evening, and the streets along the commercial district were lit by the lampposts. People walked to and fro, getting to work or a dinner date. The limo drove in circles of figure-eights around the blocks. Al’s window was rolled down and he surveyed the scene with his usual tact.

Paul leaned into the dark corner opposite Al. His arms were crossed over his chest and one leg was crossed over the other. In the dim light his eyes appeared to glow. “You’re not going to find her.”

Al scowled at him. “How would you know? You’re not even looking for her.” Paul’s illuminated eyes flickered up to Al and narrowed. The manager held up his hands in front of him. “All right, all right, I know when I’ve gone too far.” He glanced back out the window and cringed. “Wow. We’ve got a couple of ugly girls coming now. Looks like their mothers dropped them at birth.”

Paul, curiosity getting the better of him, sat up and looked out the window. The limo drove down a street with small shops. One of them was a bakery. A pair of women, one long haired and the other bobbed, walked arm-in-arm down the block. His gaze fell on the one with the long hair. A strange weight pressed against his chest.

Paul pressed the button on the door to his left. “Origa, park the car.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply from a thickly accented Spaniard.

Al glanced out his window and furrowed his brow. “What’s the idea?”

The limo parked on the sidewalk close to the two women. Paul slid across the seat to sit opposite Al. He nodded at the two women as they passed by the car. “The one with the long hair. She’ll do.”

Al followed his boss’ gaze and wrinkled his nose. “I know I said a plain girl, but isn’t she overdoing it?”

Paul frowned. He retreated into his corner and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then find a girl yourself so we can get out of here.”

Al held up his hands. “Wait a sec, I didn’t say nothing about leaving. Let’s go talk to her.”

Paul turned his face away. “You go talk to her.”

Al dropped his hands and pursed his lips. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her.”

He opened the door and stepped out. A slam of the door told his boss what he thought about this mission. The cool fall evening bit at him as he tucked the overcoat close to his scrawny neck. The pair of women were a half a block down. He meandered through the crowd and reached them just as they came up to an intersection.

Al tapped the shoulder of the woman with the long hair. “Excuse me,” he spoke up.

The two women turned around, and both furrowed their brows as they inspected the man in the long coat. “Yes?” the long-haired woman asked him.

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I was just wondering if I can offer you a chance of a lifetime, Miss-?”

The woman with the short hair pulled her friend behind her and glared at the man. “What the hell are you trying to pull here, mister? My friend doesn’t go into that sort of stuff.”

He scowled back at her. “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to the other one.”

She pulled back her arm and balled her hand into a fist. “Get outta here or you’ll be having dinner early with my knuckle sandwich as the main course.”

Her friend grabbed her arm and pulled it down. “We haven’t even heard what he has to say, Una.”

Al smirked at the short-haired woman. “Una. What a name.”

Her eyes narrowed and she looked him over. “What’s yours?”

He puffed up. “Al List.”

Una snorted. “You can’t spell ‘alley’ without an ‘al.’”

Al frowned and stuck his finger under her nose. “Listen here, sister-”

“If I was your sister I’d tell everyone I was an only child,” she quipped.