Ginger wandered down the sunny streets, watching the crowds of happy tourists walk by. The fall colors were overtaking the trees that covered the hillsides beyond the town, but hanging baskets full of flowers still lined the streets of the city.

The overpowering smell of fish and chips made her stomach twist and turn painfully. Needing a place to sit down to check the Yellow Pages, Ginger sat on the outdoor patio of the restaurant making that delicious smell. If only she could afford to buy herself something to eat, she would stuff her face. Ginger had been eating cheap bags of chips and microwave burritos for as long as she could remember.

She asked the waitress for the Yellow Pages, when the woman came to take her order. She ordered a glass of water, and said she needed more time to decide on her meal. Ginger wouldn’t be eating any lunch today. She needed the last of her money to hire a wilderness tracker to get her out to her dad’s cabin. In her haste to make it to Alaska and speak with James Salvo, she had neglected to contact any wilderness trackers before she left.

Now she would have to find someone in the Yellow Pages and use the last of her phone minutes to contact him. The waitress came back with the Yellow Pages and a glass of water and set in front of Ginger with a smile.

She began flipping through the pages, her stomach gurgling and grumbling loudly in her ears. There were several pages of wilderness trackers, and she didn’t even know where to begin. She had exactly seven minutes left on her prepaid cell phone. That wouldn’t give her nearly enough time to compare prices and finally make a decision on which tracker to hire.

With a heavy sigh, she sat back in her chair and took a sip of the ice water. At least water was free and she could quench her terrible thirst. As she glanced around the patio, her stomach rumbled again so loudly she was sure the other guests could hear it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginger spotted a beautiful lady approaching her. The woman was dressed in a designer skirt suit, embroidered stockings, and knee-high high-heeled boots. Her hair was styled in white curls, but she couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. Ginger could tell by the smooth skin on her cheeks and the bright glint in her eyes.

The woman was so incredibly stylish and so incredibly striking, that it amazed Ginger that she was even in a place like Alaska. Most of the tourists dressed in outdoorsy clothing, appropriate for a boat tour or a hike through southern Alaskan rain forest. This lady looked like she was ready to walk down the streets of New York during fashion week.

To Ginger surprise, the woman slid right into a chair across the table from her and gave her a bright gleaming smile that showed her perfectly straight teeth. Ginger’s eyes widened.

“Hi?” Ginger said, looking around to check if there were no open tables on the rest of the patio. There were actually plenty of open tables on the rest of the patio, so this woman was sitting next to Ginger because she wanted to be sitting next to her.

“Hello, dear, I’m Babs Bula,” the woman said. “I noticed you sitting here all by yourself, and you hadn’t ordered any lunch yet.” As soon as she finished speaking the waitress appeared again with a basket of fish and chips that she promptly set in front of Ginger. “I ordered you a basket of fish and chips. You simply cannot miss the exquisite fish and chips they prepare at this restaurant.”

“Thanks? I’m Ginger Allen,” Ginger said hesitantly. She wasn’t used to people just randomly buying her food, especially stylish women like this lady.

“What are you looking for in the Yellow Pages, Ginger? I know absolutely everything that’s going on in town. Maybe I can help you find what you need.”

“I need a wilderness tracker who can take me up into the backcountry. But I only have two hundred dollars to pay him, so it has to be somebody who works cheaply.” Ginger dug into the fish and chips, eating greedily. Her stomach seemed to be of bottomless pit, and she didn’t feel like she’d made even the slightest dent until the entire basket was gone.

Babs pressed her perfectly manicured, pink tipped finger to her bottom lip. “Hmm, I think I know just the man for you. In fact I’m sure of it.”

“Really? There’s so many wilderness trackers in here, I don’t even know where to start.”

“The man for you is Brock Montgomery. He runs the Montgomery tracking company and is one of the best wilderness guides in the entire state of Alaska. Not to mention, he’s incredibly handsome, and incredibly eligible.”

Ginger was a little surprised by her comment. She bit her lip and nodded her head. “Okay. Does he work cheaply?”

“I’m sure Brock will make an exception for you, dear,” Babs said, pulling a business card from her designer purse. She handed the business card to Ginger who took it and stared at it blankly.

“What is FGD.com?” Ginger asked.

“FGD stands for my business, Fairy Godmother Dating,” Babs said nonchalantly. “I specialize in matching up burly male shifters and curvy human brides.”

“Are there a lot of shifters in Juneau?” Ginger asked. Shape shifters had made their presence known over sixty-five years ago, and the human populations of the world had come to accept them. Nobody really knew who was a shifter and who wasn’t. The shifters kept that to themselves most of the time, blending in with humans as much as possible. As far as Ginger knew, there had been some issues way back in the nineteen-fifties when the shifters first came out, but at this point everybody was pretty much used to the idea.

“Juneau is simply crawling with shifters. Hot, chiseled, tall, dark, and handsome. They’re everywhere. I help sweet, curvy girls like you find their perfect shifter match. Some might even call it fate.”

“I’m not in the market for a man,” Ginger said, putting her hand up in front of her as warding off something dangerous.

“Of course you’re not. You just need a wilderness tracker. And the wilderness tracker for you is Brock Montgomery.” Babs pointed to the advertisement on the Yellow Pages that said Montgomery Wilderness Guides. “You call that number. Brock will do the rest.”

Babs stood up from the table with a smile, her curly hair bouncing around her shoulders. “What’s the deal with the fairy godmother?” Ginger asked.

“Well dear, that’s me.”