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Sassy Ever After: Sass Me If You Can (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Codi Gary (1)


This book is for Catherine Crook.

An amazing mother and friend.

I love your guts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One



Jill Meyers turned her head first to the right and then the left, not sure if she liked her hair color. When Jill decided she needed something new, and walked in with a picture of Nina Dobrev, her stylist, Susan Harper, flipped her lid. Susan raved about her beautiful her light brown hair, but Jill was adamant she wanted a change.
As if being turned into a werecougar a month ago hadn't been change enough!
"So, what do you think?" Susan asked, fluffing Jill's hair with her hands. She'd blown it dry and put spiral curls in it to give it volume, making Jill feel a little like Dolly Parton with dark hair. At least when the cold December air hit it outside it would calm down. Several thick chunks of magenta gave the almost black strands a pop of color and her aquamarine eyes seemed brighter against the darker hue. As if she needed to draw more attention to her anime eyes. They already took up half her face.
"I like it," Jill said.
She heard Susan's loud sigh of relief and smiled. She wasn't trying to scare the poor girl by asking for such a drastic do, but Jill was in a funk lately. Of course, it didn't have to do with a certain werewolf who seemed to like Jill squarely in the friend zone.
Not going to think about him.
Dereck Larson's stupid, sexy face crept through her thoughts anyway and she growled.
"You okay, hon?" Susan asked.
Jill cleared her throat and coughed. "Yeah, sure, I might be coming down with something, is all."

"Oh, be sure to grab Rosehips tea, and put a little honey and lemon in it. It's full of Vitamin C and always soothes me when I have a sore throat."
Jill stood up and placed two hundred-dollar bills on Susan's counter. "Thanks, I will."
"Do you need change?"
"No, you keep it. I appreciate you squeezing me in," Jill said.
Susan practically danced at the forty-dollar tip. "Anytime. Try to use dry shampoo on the off days, otherwise, that red will fade fast."
"Will do." Jill pushed out the door, and while the initial blast of cold air startled her, her core temperature ran too hot for it to give her trouble. One awesome thing about becoming a shifter; she didn't freeze the way she used to during the winter months in Twilight, Idaho.
Dense forest surrounded the small parking lot, interesting because, on the other side of the mountain, the trees sparsely dotted the rocky slope. Idahoans had a running joke: you could be in the desert one minute and the mountains the next. The landscape in the Gem state was unpredictable and beautiful.
Jill opened the door to her Mercedes-Benz GLE-Class SUV and before she stepped inside, she caught a whiff of a ripe, unwashed body. Wrinkling her nose, she turned around, searching for the source, but she saw no one among the parked cars. Her gaze swung to the trees to her left, and she studied them for any movement.
She couldn't call out to Mr. Stinky and risk giving herself away. Barbara Wolfe, the matriarch of the Wolfe pack, had warned Jill before leaving Twilight to be careful who she confided in about her condition. Especially in this part of the country. In some of the bigger cities, shifters and paranormal creatures were accepted, but in this small, mountain town the people weren't cougar friendly, be they shifters or not. It didn't help that a month ago, the shifter that turned Jill slaughtered two people, and turned a half a dozen more.

Not something that endeared the paranormal to the town folk.
Jill had been very careful not to shift during the day. Bumping into a hunter while running in the woods in full on cougar chic? Not smart. 
From what Greer's boyfriend, Xander and the boys from the Larson pack said, getting shot hurt like a son of a bitch. Even when you're able to turn and heal.
No thank you. She'd only recently been able to shift without the sensation of her body splitting in two. Living out a semi-normal life, with no gunshot wounds or other violent adventures, sounded damn near perfect.
Well, about as perfect and normal as a former child star turned werecougar could get.
She backed her car out of the parking spot, forgetting about the foul-smelling creeper and turned out onto the highway leading home. Several feet of snow piled high on either side of the road, ash gray with the mix of sand and dirt. It was only the first day of December, but the houses and trees she passed were covered in at least five inches of white powder that shimmered like glitter when the sun hit the surface. The effect might be beautiful, but by the time March came around, she would be ready for spring.
Jill whistled along to a Katy Perry song as she drove up the steep mountain road. She loved living there, despite the possible danger from the locals. Twilight was home.
Jill thought about heading straight home but decided to make a pit stop at her best friend Greer's house to show off her new hair. Well, Greer and Xander's place now. Even though they hadn't been together long, Greer had fallen hard for Xander Thorson, a werewolf and the last of the Thor pack. When the psychopath who'd killed Xander's family abducted Greer, Xander didn't hesitate to wage war on the rogues to get her back. He'd been too late to stop Greer from being turned, though. Jill knew that Greer was still bitter about having the choice of being a shifter taken from her, but she was dealing.
Mostly because Jill reminded her that Greer wasn't the only person forced into her transition. Jill never imagined some asshole would bite her behind Howler's Bar and Grill, changing her life forever. Life was funny that way. Full of twists, turns, and really bad decision.
So, Greer had pulled up her big girl panties and fixed things with Xander. Now that Xander and Greer were mated, he'd moved out of the house the Larson's pack owned and in with Greer. Which was superb for Jill’s peace of mind. At least now Jill wouldn't be tortured by Dereck's presence at their house, since he’d most likely be heading back to Colorado with his family in the next few days.
Jill pulled into the driveway of Greer's two-story cedar home. The large bay windows were covered by white curtains, blocking the view of the inside. She skipped up the walkway toward the door. After she rang the doorbell, she struck a pose with her hand on one hip, tossing her hair back with a grin. She couldn't wait to see Greer's reaction.
The door swung open and Jill's cheeks burned as Dereck Larson stood there, raking his mud brown eyes over her from head to toe.
"Hey, Jill. I like your hair."
Jill dropped her hand from her hip, her stomach flipping over like a flapjack. "What are you doing here?"
One of his dark brows arched, and his forehead wrinkled slightly. "I'm avoiding my mother. What brings you by?"
God, she hated how much she loved his voice. The tone was smooth and deep and came out of lips that were full and inviting. They were also surrounded by a black beard with strands of red threaded through, but hell, even that was sexy to her. He was delicious, which only made her infatuation more pathetic. It was degrading to be into someone who treated her like the adorable kid with a crush on him.
"I wanted to show Greer my hair."
"She's upstairs. Come on in." He stepped back and waved his arm for her to enter. As she passed, she couldn't help noticing the corded muscles of his arm, sprinkled with dark hair. What she wouldn't give to have him cage her against the wall with those arms and press his tight, hard body to hers.
But Dereck had never so much as made a casual pass at her and she was too damn proud to do more than a little casual flirting. She knew he could probably sense her desire for him, but his body gave nothing away when she was near. His heart rate didn't even kick up, while her pulse did felt like the beat of a techno song.
The bastard.
"Greer!" she hollered.
"Be right down!"
Jill walked straight to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Greer's house was like her third home, after her own and her parents, and she had been coming here since she was a kid. The décor had changed after the death of Greer's parents. Gone were the floral couches and oak coffee table they’d played Monopoly on. In their places was a black leather sectional and matching ottoman. The breakfast nook no longer held the simple round white table that only seated four. It had been replaced with an expresso rectangle table that hid a butterfly leaf that could be pulled out to seat twelve. The walls still held the same landscape artwork and framed pictures of Greer's family. Even with the other changes, the home was still familiar and comfortable.
Less so with Dereck standing a few feet away, too hot to ignore.
She set her bottle down on the counter and shrugged out of her jacket. After she hung the black coat over one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, she glanced sideways at Dereck to find him staring at her. The intensity of his gaze did nothing to calm her hormones.
"What?" 
Dereck shrugged. "Nothing. You just look different."
"Good or bad, different?"
He flashed her that charming smile that left her temporarily powerless, her body as weak as a kitten. "Good."
"You don't sound so sure," she teased.
He scoffed. "Come on, Jill, you know how beautiful you are."
It was true, she did know. As someone who had grown up in front of a camera, being told how adorable she was and then how gorgeous, Jill had never lacked for confidence.
Still, having Dereck acknowledge it warmed her insides.
"It's still nice to hear."
"I am sure you hear you're pretty a lot," Dereck said.
Jill couldn't deny that. Her overdeveloped confidence was what had gotten her turned in the first place. If she hadn't walked right up to the shifter who had bitten her and agreed to go home with him, she would still be human. She wouldn't dream about the experience every night, screaming inside as he led her outside by the hand. In the dream, she’d try to dig in her heels and change the outcome, but the nightmare always ended the same. The blazing pain of teeth ripping into the flesh of her shoulder still too real. The warm flow of blood soaking her clothes as she cried and screamed for help.
When she woke in a cold sweat, it would take her several moments to realize that she was safe, that the nightmare was over, but she dreaded falling back asleep. Hated being swept back to that sensation of helplessness.
The only consolation was that Jill would never be a victim again. She embraced her new self on the outside, but the experience left scars she didn't talk about, even with Greer. While Greer bemoaned her fate, Jill pretended she didn't have any misgivings, but boy, did she have a buttload.
Her train of thought left her silent for too long, and Dereck frowned at her.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
It took her several beats to remember what they'd been talking about. Oh, right. Guys telling her she was beautiful and hearing it all the time.
"I do, but I still appreciate the compliment," she said.
There he went, gooifying her kneecaps with the curve of his full lips. "You are most welcome." He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, which was in dire need of a cut. "What brought on the change in hair color, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Just wanted to try something new. You know, like your beard. Sometimes you need to shake things up a bit."
Dereck fingered his perfectly groomed facial hair. "You don't like my soup catcher? I thought it made me more rugged."
Had he lowered his voice to a rumble when he said rugged or was that wishful thinking? Either way, her pussy clenched in arousal and she crossed her legs against the sudden throb there.
Greer came down the stairs, and Jill silently sighed with relief. 

Now Dereck’s attention is on Greer instead of watching me with that penetrating gaze. 

Her nipples hardened and she nearly groaned aloud. Oh, God, the word penetrating, even in her head, had only made her lust worse. 

Please, don't let him be able to smell the horny on me.
"Hey, Jill!" Greer called, her caramel blonde hair piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. Her brown eyes were warm and happy, and her full lips were spread wide in a smile. She wore black leggings under a long green sweater that stretched across her breasts. Jill was no slouch in the boob department, but Greer had been doubly blessed.
Greer's eyes widened as they landed on Jill's head. "Oh, my God, you did it."
Jill touched one of the magenta curls self-consciously. "Yep. What do you think?"
"You look fantastic!" Greer closed the distance and hugged her tight. When she pulled away, her gaze bore into Jill's. "Do you like it, though? You seem hesitant."
Jill didn't know if Greer's intuition came from knowing each other most of their lives or a supernatural sixth sense, but she liked that Greer asked.
"Yeah, I do actually. I needed something different and it feels wonderful."
"It's super sexy." Greer's attention shot to Dereck, who was leaning against the counter watching them. "Don't you think her hair is hot?"
Dereck shrugged his broad, t-shirt clad shoulders. "I already said it looked good."
Greer rolled her eyes. "Men."
"Speaking of men, where is your honey?" Jill didn't want to dwell on the fact Dereck couldn't bring himself to call her sexy. It hurt too much.

"He is at work, making the woods safe for all God's creatures."
Xander had taken a job with Idaho Fish and Game last week, a normal mundane job. 
For a werewolf.
"Fun," Jill said.
Dereck slapped his hands on the counter, bringing their attention back to him. "I've overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and let you ladies visit. If my mother can't behave, maybe I'll bring back some food for us tonight, as a thank you for letting me crash."
"That's so thoughtful, Dereck. Thanks," Greer said.
Dereck saluted her and headed for the front door. He paused a few feet before and met Jill's gaze.
"If you're not here when I come back, have a good night."
Not the most romantic exit, but it was better than him ignoring her.
"See you later," Jill called lamely.
He disappeared out the door and Jill sighed.
I have men sending me dozens of love letters a day, yet the one guy I want is completely indifferent. 
It was official. Her funk couldn't get any worse.