All Grace wanted to do was give a shelter cat a much-needed home, and when Mittens extends a paw to her through the bars of his cage, she thinks she’s found the perfect pet.
Under the light of a full moon, Mittens transforms into Emric, a sexy sorcerer who was turned into a cat by an angry ex-girlfriend. Enraged that Emric wouldn’t give her an old grimoire that’s been in his family for generations, she’s still out there, looking for him and the spellbook.
Emric and Grace are drawn to each other with a magnetic force that surprises both of them. But before they can act on that attraction, they have to track down and destroy the grimoire before Emric’s ex can get her hands on it and unleash hell.
If Emric’s recollection of shape-shifting spells was correct, the obnoxiously bright full moon should break his curse any minute now, provided he could get in its glow. He was pretty sure that was how it worked, although he’d never had any occasion to turn anyone into a cat. Or toad, he thought, remembering how angry Maisy had been at her mistake. It would have been much easier for her to keep a toad in her possession than a wily cat.
He needed to get in the moonlight to reverse the spell, and the small cushioned window seat in Grace’s bedroom provided the perfect place to do it. The vertical blinds in the living room would make too much noise when he tried to duck behind them, and he wanted to shift back to human form and get back to his house, provided his crazy ex hadn’t burned it down, without Grace waking up. He really needed to get back to his old life, preferably before she had him neutered.
A shudder rippled through his feline body at the notion. He’d fought the animal shelter’s volunteers and veterinarians as much as he could in an attempt to stave off the surgery. He wasn’t sure how much of that could be reversed once he was human again.
Emric tried to nudge away the curtains with his nose, then extended his front paws to grab on to the cushion and haul himself up. He miscalculated, though, and his paws brought down the entire curtain rod with a crash.
Maybe Grace was a light sleeper. He prayed for that as the moonlight hit his furry face, and with no small amount of relief welcomed the sensation of his bones and muscles pulling apart and knitting themselves back together.
“Oh, what the fuck!”
Not a light sleeper. Shit.
Emric remained crouched on the carpeted floor and looked up to see Grace sitting up in bed, shocked. He desperately hoped she didn’t have a gun anywhere nearby. He didn’t trust his mouth to form words just yet and say a spell that would deflect any bullets.
Grace tossed the covers off her and nearly leaped out of bed. She flipped on the bedroom light, revealing baggy men’s pajamas that hid the nice shape he knew she had. “Mittens?” she said, her voice a breathless whisper.
Emric tried to clear his throat, a meow almost rising from him almost on instinct. “No,” he said, his throat sore and his voice a croak. “Not Mittens.” He tried again. “Please don’t neuter me.”