The Dog Designer Ruffles Some Feathers (Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #8)
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Happy Ending at 91%
Half Title
1 ~ In the Blink of an Eye
2 ~ Eyes So Purple
3 ~ There’s No Way This Is a Natural Thing
4 ~ A Hellfire-and-Dalmatian in Residence
5 ~ It’s as If She Understands You
6 ~ A Rendezvous at Motel 666
7 ~ Of Course I’ll Report It
8 ~ When Will the Wedding Be?
9 ~ Most People Do Have a Background
10 ~ Look at the Woman
11 ~ Here They Went Again
12 ~ Too Weird for Me
13 ~ Ahhh, How Sweet
Epilogue ~ Tiny Puffs of Steam
Thank you!
Book Club Questions
Free Books by Heather Horrocks
About the Author
Series by Heather Horrocks
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Thanks again
THE DOG DESIGNER RUFFLES SOME FEATHERS
Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #8
Heather Horrocks
Dedicated to my sweet daughter, Mindy Horrocks, who is a talented interior designer and who also (or so her T-shirt proclaims) likes big mutts and she cannot lie. If Towski is any indication, you really do like big mutts! You’re a great furbaby mom. Thanks for sharing your friendship and your talents with me — and for being such a great wife to my son. I’m glad you let Ryan bring you into our family (and in case you’re wondering, there is no escape!).
And to Mark, who brought magic into my life. (And who sometimes, like Blaze, is just the teeniest bit naughty.)
THE HAPPY ENDING IS AT ABOUT 91% ~ ENJOY!
In case you’re like me and want to know how close you are to the end of a book, and because there are pages that come after the end of a book (copyright, book club questions, about the author, excerpts, and — in some boxed sets — more novellas), I just want to let you know that ‘The End’ of this book is at approximately 91%. Enjoy.
The Dog Designer Ruffles Some Feathers
© 2017 Heather Horrocks
*Word Garden Press*
In the Blink of an Eye
“HELLFIRE AND DALMATIAN!” A WOMAN’S surprised cry rang out over the sound of a puppy barking.
Oh, no!
Blaze had slipped free of the leash again. With a groan, Poppy Brooks turned to see the adorable but disobedient spotted half-Dalmatian puppy scamper across the lawn. Thankful she’d left the other puppies safely at home, she took off after Blaze.
The little imp saw her coming, luckily didn’t bark again, and raced off, wanting to play with her.
She’d only looked away for a second — but it had been a second too long! The dog was a regular little Houdini, wiggling free of his restraint.
Blaze raced twenty feet across the park’s grass and around a tree, then dashed off the trail and toward the water.
She pushed her legs to go faster but, really, how was she supposed to catch a little dog when he was determined to run free?
Blaze swerved and headed for a man wearing jeans and a leather jacket, a man who was attractive and smiled at the dog racing toward him.
“Well, aren’t you cute?” he said, scooping Blaze up and petting him. “Looks like you got away from your doggy mommy.”
If Blaze was a normal Dalmatian, this could be a nice talk-with-the-handsome-man-at-the-park moment, but Blaze was far too dangerous for those types of moments.
And, uh-oh. Blaze always barked at new people, which was why she’d brought him to the park, which was almost always lightly populated. Her plan had been to socialize him a bit, but she’d seriously miscalculated. Even at three months, he wasn’t anywhere near ready to be around people yet.
“Watch out,” Poppy called out, as she raced toward the man, snatching the puppy out of his arms — just in time. As she spun, Blaze opened his mouth and barked — and a small jet of fire erupted from his mouth.
The woman who’d originally called out was staring at them across the expanse of lawn, pointing, with her mouth agape. Poppy needed to get the heck out of the park before the woman drew even more attention to the little dog or the man noticed her dog was breathing fire like a mischievous spotted dragon.
“Whoa!” the man said, startled. “What was that?”
Because she’d spun around, he hadn’t gotten a clear view, and she could hardly tell this human — J. K. Rowling had the right idea with muggle — that her dogs were magical. So she turned back, ignoring his question, and gushed, “Thank you so much for saving my puppy!”
“Sure,” the man said, staring at the dog, confused. “Is he a purebred Dalmatian?”
“Designer dog. Half-Dalmatian, half—” she could hardly tell this human hellhound, so she fudged with, “Labrador. He’s a Dalmador.”
“He’s a good-looking dog and he’s got a lot of spirit. Plus he seems to like me. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog. Is he for sale?”
“Oh, no. This dog is too hot to handle!” Poppy called out over her shoulder as she jogged away from the man. “See you around.”
After she’d jogged along the path far enough to be out of sight of both the man and the pointing woman, she slowed to a walk and secured the bespelled harness around his wiggling body. There’d be no more flames, at least for now.
And this time she snugged it on extra-tight. There’d be no wriggling out of it this time.
When the puppy licked her fingers, she looked down at him and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you, Blaze? You look so freaking innocent right up until the moment you shoot fire at someone.”
She scooped him back up and slipped out of the park.
She’d considered lots of flame-related names for him — Burnie, Hot-Spot, Inferno — but she’d settled on Blaze because he was just so darned cute.
Until he barked.
She needed to do some extra work with this little hellhound/Dalmatian mix.
After a lot of consideration, she’d finally decided to call this particular hybrid a Prestidigimatian, but that lady in the park had called it like she’d seen it, and Hellfire-and-Dalmatian might be a catchier name if this designer dog caught on with the world’s supernaturals.
Still, she had to train him first. Otherwise, all that would catch on would be fire.
Kealoha Pueo exhaled heavily as he walked away from the burial site.
He’d met John Burrows a year ago, when John’s big house had caught fire and Kea and his team had been the firefighters at the scene who put it out and saved the house — and the old guy.
Kea was here to show his respects for the friend he’d known for so short a time. He’d grown to like the guy, and he’d called him once a week to check up on him. Last week, he’d sounded fine. But then John died of a heart attack.
Someone stepped beside him.
He glanced down and saw the woman who’d been in the house the night of the fire. He tried to remember her name, but couldn’t. She was John’s nurse or something.
She pulled out a perfume atomizer and spritzed herself — overshooting and getting some on him as well. He coughed as it got into his nose.
She looked up at him. “I’m really going to miss him.”
“You were his nurse, right?” Kea said, feeling strange. He shook his head a little.
“Yes.” She nodded and looked out into the distance. Sighing, she said, “For two years. Such a sweet old man.”
“Yes, he was.”<
br />
They stood silent for a moment, and Kea sneezed. Was he catching something?
The woman said, “I don’t know if you remember my name. I’m Elizabeth McBean.”
“Elizabeth. That’s a pretty name.” He felt awkward and gave what must certainly have been a stiff smile. “I’m Kealoha Pueo.”
“Oh, I remember you. You were one of the firefighters who saved us last year.” She looked up at him, unshed tears sparkling through her long eyelashes. “I don’t know what I’ll do now. I don’t have any family left and he was my only patient, as well as my friend.”
“Were you related to Mr. Burrows?”
“No, but he felt like family to me.” She sniffled and he rushed to hand her the handkerchief from his suit pocket. She gave him a watery smile and delicately patted her nose. Averting her eyes, she said, “I don’t mean to burden you with my troubles, Chief Pueo.”
“Please call me Kea.”
“Oh, then you must certainly call me Lizzie.”
Kealoha couldn’t bear to see a woman cry, especially not one who cried as prettily as this little nurse. Her tears plucked at his heartstrings, as well as her obvious grief over her boss’s death.
“Troubles…?”
She put on a brave face. “It’s just that I’ve been living in his house, and now I’m having to move and I need a new job. I don’t know what I’ll do now.”
“Surely Mr. Burrows left you something in his will.”
“I won’t know until the will is read, but that has been postponed for a full month. Per Mr. Burrows’s instructions.”
“That’s a strange request,” he muttered.
“I thought so, too, but I don’t really know about legal matters.” She twisted the handkerchief then handed it back to him, lost in thought. With another little sniffle, she looked back up at him.
Then she touched his arm with her delicate hand — and a strange sensation shot through him. It was something he’d never felt before — a tingling, swirling, magical feeling that filled him with light.
Suddenly, he wanted this woman more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
Could she be his lifemate? He hadn’t felt this way around her last year, but wow — he sure did feel it now. His head went a little woozy with it.
“Kea,” she said, her hand still on his arm, “I don’t know who else to turn to. You saved John’s life a year ago, but you really saved mine too, because you gave me hope that one day I would meet someone as wonderful as you.” She smiled, even as a tear escaped and slid down her cheek.
He reached out with the handkerchief and carefully caught the tear. She put her hand on his. “I have to confess that...”
She allowed the sentence to trail until Kea couldn’t stand the suspense and said, his heart thumping, “What?”
When she looked up at him again, something like ... love? ... shone in her eyes. “I fell in love with you that day, you know. When you came rushing in and saved the day. You were a real-life hero and I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
His heart was touched, and he placed his hand on top of hers. At the additional contact, his emotions swirled faster, confusing him, and his head grew foggier. He felt out of sorts, but in a pleasant way.
“You protected me that day.” She fluttered her lashes. “Is there any chance that someone like me could ever be a part of your life?”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation, surprised to find himself saying those words.
She shook her head. “I’m being terribly presumptuous. Please forgive me for saying anything. Surely you already have someone in your life.” She gave a sad little laugh. “You’ll think I’m foolish, but I even imagined the children we would have one day. How childish is that?”
He’d dated women, but never found one who’d interested him enough to put a ring on it. Usually he ended up intimidating women, because of his large size, his even larger family, and his strong personality. This woman’s honest declaration set him aback and stirred something within him that he’d never felt before.
He’d watched several of his friends — Walter, Ty, and Elvis among them — who’d found their lifemates, but he’d given up hoping. He had his big, extended Polynesian family, and he was happy with that.
Still, he’d always wished for children of his own.
He looked at this woman before him, considering the possibilities. She was attractive, she looked at him with adoration in her eyes — and she needed help. His help.
Apparently, he was a sucker for damsels in distress, because he blurted out, “We could get married. Then you’d never have to worry about finding a place where you belong again.”
Her eyes widened and she squeezed his hand. “Do you mean it, Kea? Would you really do that for me? Would you save me a second time?”
Surprised, but feeling almost compelled because of the swirling maybe-lifemate thing, he grinned. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
She slipped into his arms and hugged him, and he held her tiny frame against him, awed that this woman had agreed to become his wife.
He smiled.
Wife. His wife. He liked the idea, even if he hadn’t even considered such a thing just a half-hour before.
“I’ll need to buy you a ring,” he said, surprising himself yet again.
“Just something simple.”
He was pleased at that, though something in the back of his mind nagged at him. “Let’s go choose one now. And then I’ll take you to meet my family.”
That gave him pause for a moment. His family.
They’d been after him for ages to find a woman and settle down.
Finally, he beamed. His family was going to love Lizzie.
Aloha Pueo stared at her twin brother, Kealoha, and at the strange purple-eyed woman he’d brought home and announced he’d be marrying.
Something didn’t feel right. Several somethings, actually.
Upon meeting Lizzie McBean, when she’d taken her hand, the hair on the back of Aloha’s neck rose, as though the feathers of her owl were ruffled. There was something wrong with this woman.
So, although she said all the polite things, she made an excuse to follow her mother into the kitchen to help finish the dinner preparations.
Her mother, Okalani, put her hands on her hips. “Well?” she whispered. “What do you think?”
Aloha shook her head, and whispered back, “We can’t let this happen. Something’s wrong.”
“I agree. I have a really bad feeling about her. We have to do something.”
Nalani, her youngest sister, joined them. “We have to do something about what?”
Their mother motioned her to come closer and to speak quietly, then she whispered, “We need to get Kea free of this woman. She has seduced him.”
“You don’t like her, either?” Nalani asked.
Her mother and older sister shook their heads. “What can we do?”
Aloha considered her options for a moment, then said, “I’m going to hire a PI to check out her background.”
Her mother looked thoughtful. “Are there any other women who we can introduce to Kea?”
“Wait a minute,” Nalani said, holding up a finger to capture their attention. “I know who we can get. What if I invite Poppy to town for a visit? She always had a crush on him — and I always thought he liked her too, but she was just a little too young for him when her family left town.”
Their mother’s eyes widened. “Poppy! Yes. She may be the perfect solution to our dilemma. Call her.”
Nalani nodded. “She may not come if she knows why.”
“Don’t tell her why we want her,” Aloha warned. “Let’s just get them together and let nature take its course.”
“With a little help from the local coven,” Okalani said. “I’m going to talk with Chicory and Marigold and see if they’ll sell me a spell or two.”
Her mother was really worried, then.
As was Aloha.
Poppy threw a Frisbee
and the Labracadabrador caught it, leaping high — higher than most dogs could. Max came running back with it in his mouth, grinning his goofy smile at her.
The eight-month-old puppy dropped it at her feet, his tail wagging happily and his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“You’re a good boy,” she said, and lifted it again. “Let’s see how high you can go this time, shall we?”
She tossed it even higher — and Max was off at a dead run.
Why does he insist on doing your bidding? Princess Wencheng’s voice was cool and disdainful in Poppy’s head. Poppy’d named her after a famous Tibetan princess who was still venerated today. The adorable dog was half-Shih Tzu and half Ili Pika — an adorable, rare teddy bear of a mammal from China with latent magical properties. Poppy had, therefore, felt as though she’d pulled the Shih Tzam out of a hat — like the proverbial rabbit. She was the first Shih Tzam ever, and, if she kept up with her snark, she might also be the last.
Because he’s a dog, Poppy shot back. You should try it sometime.
Wencheng yawned. Why?
Why, indeed. The three-year-old Shih Tzam’s characteristics were more like a cat than any dog Poppy had ever met — a cat with mentally audible snark. That was a dangerous, and irritating, combination. She was extremely intelligent though, and extremely helpful in keeping the young puppies in line. She allowed no disrespect from man nor beast and was a solid four pounds of snark and trouble.
When Poppy’s phone rang, she said, “Hold on, dogs.” It was her childhood friend. She hadn’t heard from Nalani in a long time. Probably six months or more. “Hey, Nalani, it’s been a while. What’s up?”
Nalani’s smooth voice flowed over the airways. “Hey, Poppy. It’s been way too long. I’m calling because I miss my favorite hound whisperer. I was hoping you might wanna come for a visit.”
Surprised, Poppy said, “A visit? To Moonchuckle Bay?”
“Heck, yeah. That’s where I live, haole.” Nalani called her the nickname that Hawaiians called people who weren’t native Hawaiians.