Storm Shift: The Charming Shifter Mysteries, #1

By Calinda B

Chia and trouble are about to collide!

"Your power--it's in the blood."

Those were the words her grandfather said to her from wherever the dead reside. Now it's up to her to find out what that really means.

Grief.

Her grandparents were found dead in the lake. Boating accident? Not likely. Newly elected town manager Chia is determined to find out who murdered her beloved granddad and grandma.

Justice.

Her new position requires her to see to the needs of the people, including the shifters, of Charming, Alaska. When a shifter turns up dead, shot by a mysterious hunter, her determination to find the murderer grows.

Love.

There are not too many men to choose from in Charming, Alaska. Can the sexy, insane bounty hunter who wants revenge for the death of his niece, winnow his way into her heart?

Too many mysteries and not enough time to solve them.

Chia's got her hands full as she tries to set things right in Book 1 of the Charming Shifter Mysteries, Storm Shift.

Storm Shift: Book 1
Power Shift: Book 2 (A USA Today bestselling book)
Blood Shift: Book 3
Soul Shift: 4
Star Shift: Book 5, the epic finale, coming in 2019

• Language: English
• Publisher: Calinda B
• Release date: Jan 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386889830

Calinda B

Author Bio: Calinda B was told early on that she should be a writer. She heard frequent praise for her writing, as well as her sense of humor. Scoffing at such admonitions and praise, she went on to pursue her life of adventure, chock full of the things that make up a well-rounded adventurous life: music (yup, she was a singer in a rock and roll band), dance (even performed hip hop in Russia), rock climbing (ever hung from a rock wall a few stories up? Yikes!), fire walking (taught high-ranking Moscow fire officials how to walk the coals), kayaking, scuba diving (she’s in love with sharks), travel, and falling in love again and again. Living in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with the love of her life and her two cats, she has now chosen to put fingers to keyboard and write – when she’s not in pursuit of another adventure!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Crack! Chia aimed her gun and shot a marble-shaped clay orb from the sky. Its copper-colored bits exploded like mini-fireworks against the backdrop of a clear blue Alaskan vista. The clay fragments drifted away, caught in a light, spring breeze. She hoped some of her grief joined it on its journey.

How can my grandparents be dead?

Brass casings from prior shots littered the ground near her booted feet. They lay scattered at odd angles, like bits of metal confetti in the dirt.

Again! she called over her shoulder.

Projecting thoughts of her grandparents’ death into the sky, she peered into the bright clouds. An accident? I don’t think so. Someone’s going to pay. Her wraparound safety sunglasses shielded her eyes, while she kept a steady grip on her trusty Ruger .22 rifle.

Charm’s Inlet, a scoop of seaworthy territory carved in the Bering sea, stretched to the west. She and her granddad had gone on many a fishing excursion, bobbing along in gramps’ blue and white sea-skiff. They’d also explored lakes and streams in his classic welded aluminum fishing boat. The kind he and grandma had taken out and... She sniffed, unable to endure the thought.

Behind her stood a decrepit, two-story wood and brick building. Built in the 1700s, it currently housed the Charming Administration Offices— her new place of employment. Grandma had told her she’d make a whale of a difference if she ever summoned the nerve to assume a role in government here in town. When the opportunity arose, she’d entered the election race, going against the long-time incumbent, Mark Canning.

She’d won.

He’d been town manager for far too long.

Beyond the office, the road led through town. Straight ahead, to the east, lay a lush tundra. It gave way to distant mountains, highlighted by the Haunted Bear glacier. Her house resided near the glacier, nestled next to a creek. She squinted into the distance. That’s where she’d lived since high school...right there...with her wonderful, crazy grandpa and loving, nurturing grandma. Until they died a couple of days ago. She couldn’t see the sturdy homestead from here, but she always had a cozy sense of home when she looked in that direction...except for today.

Today, grief dragged at her heart, clawing at her emotions. It made tears hover at the ready, nagging at her to let them loose. Not going to go there again. I’ve already cried six buckets of salt water.

Throw the damn clay marble, for Gods’ sake, she said.

Cecil Carpenter, her loyal friend and Husky dog shape-shifter, fished a clay orb out of the small, cardboard box resting on a tree stump next to her gun case. Currently in human form, he lifted the clay marble in front of his face and squinted. You’re a trip, you know that right? Most people shoot a clay pigeon.

They’re too big. I like a good challenge. Now throw the damn thing.

Fore! he yelled, as if they were on the golf course. With a quick swing of his arm, he flung the penny into the sky.

Crack! Once again, the penny exploded, as Chia’s sharp-eyed shot met its reddish target. She sent more sorrow into the heavens.

Let’s do something else, Cecil said. Watching you shoot clay marble after clay marble is hardly what I’d call fun. There are no more, anyway. I threw the last one.

It’s more fun than facing my new job. Or thinking about my newly... Her chest began to heave. ...inherited... Her voice splintered. ...home.

The last word came out as a wail.

Cecil stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He stared at her for a few seconds, before turning to look at the boats bobbing about on the sea.

Sniffling, she lowered her weapon, then plucked the magazine out of the butt of the gun. Squinting at it with one teary eye, she declared the magazine empty. She stepped toward the tree stump, put it and the gun in her hard-sided carrying case, and then scooped the brass casings from the ground. She poured the casings into the empty clay orb box and brushed off her hands. She leaned against a short evergreen tree. Lifting her head, her attention flew to her smallish, two-foot tall ghosts settled in the branches.

Go away, she hissed at them, hoping Cecil didn’t hear.

They simply ignored her.

Not exactly ghosts—not the way most people think of ghosts, as spirits of the departed—hers each came about when she did something she felt guilty about, shouldn’t have done, went against her morals or ethics, or was just plain wrong. Thanks to her parent’s refusal to acknowledge things like the existence of magic, as well as her thoughts and feelings and other minor inconveniences, she had a healthy amount of denial in her upbringing. This denial kept her from dealing with said wrong-doings. She swept them away from her mind. Yet, for some reason, each shoved-away incidence had resulted in a colorful, see-through energy blip, hovering around her as a constant companion. The blips even had faces.

The red one came about when she’d been furious at being dumped by Brant, the captain of the football team and her high school lover. Even these many years later, the thought of him made her grind her pearly whites. After catching him in-flagrante with a junior named Misty, she’d set his beloved gun case on fire with explosives she’d procured from some old coot up in Fairbanks. Only her and sweet baby Jesus ever found out who did it. But then, the second she set things in motion, this translucent crimson energy blip appeared. Sadly, its face kind of looked like Brant.

The green one appeared after she’d gotten Misty drunk and cut off all Misty’s long blonde locks in a butchered haircut. She thought Brant would take her back. Instead, he fell even harder for Misty. Last thing she had heard, they were married over in Nome, Alaska. And, she was stuck with this green ghost with huge buck teeth.

Overall, there were six energy blips, so far. They stayed glued to her, wherever she went. As far as she could tell, no one else knew about them. Worse, they served no purpose whatsoever except to remind her of past wrong doings.

What are you looking at, Ms. Manager? Cecil stood before her, his hands on his hips.

Loomed would be more accurate, Chia thought, as she eyed his tall, muscular frame. Cecil definitely looms.

Nothing. Tree branches. Sky.

Uh huh. He squinted in the direction she’d been looking, and then at her. Did you add pink streaks to your hair?

Yes. Do you like them? She patted her hair.

Sure. Over six feet to her barely four foot eleven, he’d been her friend since she graduated from high school, five long years ago.

She eyed Cecil. A rush of pleasure skittered through her. As friendly and loyal as his Husky self, he stayed in excellent shape from romping in the woods as a dog, and odd carpentry jobs when he wanted to make a little money. Muscled, with glacier-blue eyes, he was more than a little easy on the eyes. She liked looking at him—but so did every other girl in town. She’d thought of bedding him a time or two. She always decided, in the end, he made a better friend for the simple reason he liked to share with others and explore options. She didn’t.

Done with moping about her grandparents for the moment, she swiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry. He patted her shoulder with his large hand. Then, he peered up into the trees, a slight scowl forming on his face.

She pushed away from the tree. Can shifters see those things? He’s never mentioned it to me. As the newly elected manager of Charming, Alaska, population 695, she didn’t want to find out. She’d be a laughing stock. People in town already found her odd. Granddaughter to Leon Buisson—that gave townspeople pause.

Her grandparents believed in magic and the supernatural. They protected shifters. Most townsfolk didn’t know they lived near humans who could assume animal form. If they did, they’d shoot first, freak out second.

Not only that, the older men couldn’t deal with her sharp-shooting skills. The younger guys all wanted to bang her bones. But most of them were already hitched to someone and were looking for a little something-something on the side. And, their females treated her like a threat, thinking she had nothing better to do than steal their men. Like this town has the kind of man I’d prefer. I’m looking for something different—someone exciting.

Clearing her throat, she said, Thanks for tossing the marbles. I needed to get stuff out of my system.

Uh huh. I hope you didn’t put me on a marble.

Her eyebrows flew up. You? Never!

He glanced back at the branches, eyed her, and shrugged. I’m sorry about your grandparents. Seemed so sudden.

Fresh tears swamped her vision. Thanks. Yeah, they’re calling it a boating accident, but come on...on a clear day they just fall off the edge of their skiff into the lake? I don’t think so.

What do you think happened? Cecil turned and put his hand on her back, giving her a gentle shove toward the office. Magic? Murder? Mayhem? All of the above?

She shivered, reaching to grab the gun case, as Cecil hustled her away.

Magic? she squeaked. I know they employed it from time to time but they never talked about it with me. My mom made it clear the topic was not to be discussed. She’s a biomedical tech. Dad writes for science journals, debunking false claims. They both got into endless arguments with my grandfather about his so-called ‘superstitious conjectures’. She shook her head. So, they took us away from Alaska so they could ‘give me a better life in New York.’ I hated it. I was miserable. Finally, they struck a deal when they sent me back from New York to live with my grandparents.

Murder, then? Cecil scratched his head.

Chia shook her head. They were so well loved. Why would anyone do them harm?

Easing his arm around her shoulder, Cecil said, Your granddad was a pretty outspoken guy...as well as a magic man. He had enemies, for sure. He fought for the shifters in this town.

You mean the ones half the town refuses to acknowledge? We live in ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ reality around here, don’t we? She pursed her lips, lifting her gaze to stare at the Charming Administration office, a few yards away. I’m going to have my work cut out for