When Hell Freezes Over [Werewolves and Wizards of West End 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Werewolves and Wizards of West End 2
When Hell Freezes Over
A dark wizard has cursed Shelby Winters. Even her skills as a witch can’t save her. Knowing she’ll die soon, she leaves her home to find a place to spend the rest of her short life. Seeking peace, she finds her way to the small island town of West End.
Werewolf J.B. Legacy, his hybrid brother, Taylor, and their werebird friend Bryton Carlyle sense something is wrong with Shelby. They’d go to hell and back to help her, but she distrusts shifters, making it difficult to get close to her. Still, they’re determined to make her their mate. When at last she tells them she’s dying, they’re heartbroken. Changing her into a shifter might cure her, but her distrust of shifters holds her back.
Can they convince her to trust them? Or will they have to settle for what little time Shelby has left?
Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy, Ménage a Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 29,248 words
WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER
Werewolves and Wizards of West End 2
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER
Copyright © 2016 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-626-7
First E-book Publication: December 2016
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
I’d like to thank Siren Publishing and its wonderful staff of editors, cover artists, and office support people who help bring my stories to life. Thank you for all your hard work.
Additionally, I’d like to thank my husband. He has supported me through many years when none of my books were being published. He’s my rock, my lover, my best friend, and my hero. I am one lucky woman!
Yours,
Jane Jamison
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
Landmarks
Cover
WHEN HELL
FREEZES OVER
Werewolves and Wizards of West End 2
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2016
Chapter One
Shelby Winters leaned over the rail of the ferry. The commute from the coast of Washington State to Westlandia Island was just under an hour, making her wish she could cast a spell and move the boat faster. Her rented Jeep was on the bottom level in line with all the other cars that had been driven onto the ferry and would be driven off as soon as they pulled into the West End Marina.
Although the reason for her going to the small town was a sad one, she couldn’t help but be excited. From everything she’d heard, West End was a magic-friendly town. Residents included witches and wizards, along with a large contingency of shifters.
Too bad about shifters living there, but every town has its drawbacks.
She lifted her face to the sky and let the late summer wind whip her hair away from her face. Today was a good day. Her strength was good, and the pain that usually tore at her stomach had kept its ugly head hidden. Whether or not tomorrow would be another good day would have to be seen.
Closing her eyes, she allowed the memories to wash over her. Maybe if she gave them free rein one last time, she could keep them from ruining what little time she had left.
So she remembered.
The dark wizard, angry at her refusal to help him swindle a human, had stood over her after knocking her to the ground with a lightning bolt. Before she could do anything to protect herself, he’d uttered the awful incantation. She hadn’t understood the language the wizard had used, but she’d felt his power. Screaming as the pain ripped through her, she’d welcome the blackness that had followed.
When she’d awakened, she’d rushed to her coven, hoping they’d be able to help her. But the magic of the dark wizard had been too powerful for even the six wise witches in her coven. In the end, they’d hugged her and begged her forgiveness for failing her. No forgiveness had been needed, yet she hadn’t been able to stay with the coven. Their pitying looks would’ve killed her faster than the dark wizard’s hex.
Shelby opened her eyes, the tears welling there stinging as the wind struck her face. How could she be facing death before her twenty-fourth birthday? She had dreams to fulfill, places to see, and, if luck was with her, love to find. Yet, instead of traveling the world in search of special herbs to make potions, she’d end her days in pain, the evil magic inside her eating away her organs.
“Knock it off. You’re not dead yet.” She wouldn�
�t let the curse keep her from enjoying what remained of her short life. Placing her hand on her stomach, she closed her eyes and felt the flutter of magic inside her. Soon enough, even that would be gone.
“I’m sorry? Did you say something?”
Shelby plastered on a smile and faced the dark-haired beauty standing a few feet away. The young woman’s long hair blew over her shoulders as her soulful eyes sought an answer. “No. Not really. I have a bad habit of talking to myself.”
The girl’s laughter was as bright as the sunlight sparkling on the water. “Oh, okay. I understand. I talk to myself at times, too. They say it’s a sign of superior intelligence.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Reagan Legacy.”
Shelby gave it one shake and then turned her loose. “Shelby Winters. And I don’t know if the superior intelligence thing is true, but it’s nice to think it is.”
“It’s nice to think a lot of things are true that probably aren’t.” Reagan nodded toward the island coming into view. “So what brings you to West End? Are you hunting werewolves?”
Shelby had heard the myths about the island and its small town and knew the myths to be real, but she wouldn’t tell Reagan. “Werewolf hunting, huh? Nope. Sorry. I don’t want anything to do with shifters.”
“So you’ve heard the stories?” Reagan’s frown came and then disappeared quickly. “Good idea. You wouldn’t want to get eaten alive.”
“Nope. I sure wouldn’t.”
“But you have heard the stories?”
“About what’s living there? Sure. I did a little research. How else would I have found out about the island? It’s not like West End does any advertising. I suspect most of its visitors get wind of the place through word of mouth and internet gossip.”
“True enough.” Reagan leaned on the railing, her gaze toward the horizon. “But do you believe them? The stories?”
Why was Reagan so interested in what she believed? “Of course not.”
“Good for you.” Reagan flipped her hair off her shoulders. “We keep the stories going for the tourists. Kind of like how they make money off supposed alien sightings in Roswell, New Mexico.”
The last thing Shelby wanted to discuss was supernaturals. Instead, she scanned the water and changed the subject. “Have you seen any whales today?”
Reagan didn’t answer right away, obviously picking up on Shelby’s need to redirect the conversation. “Not in these waters. You have to go farther out away from the ferry route to see them.”
“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll go whale watching while I’m there.”
“You should. It’s really fun. The companies who take you out know all the pods and their names.”
Shelby didn’t respond, thinking that if she didn’t, Reagan would take the hint and wander off. She’d come to the island to be alone, to have time to think about her life, not to make a new friend. Still, friends were hard to come by nowadays.
“So where are you staying, Shelby?”
She hadn’t wanted to plan too far ahead. Having a little spontaneous adventure would be fun. “I don’t know yet.”
“Seriously?” Reagan gaped at her. “So you don’t have a reservation? Or rented a house or a cabin? Or, better yet, staying with friends or relatives?”
Reagan’s tone was grim. Maybe a little spontaneous adventure hadn’t been such a great idea. “No. I guess you’re about to tell me that I should have planned ahead more.”
“Yeah. You should have. At this time of the year, every place will be booked solid. Even the towns on the other side of the island won’t have any openings. It’s the last big rush before the tourist season winds up.”
“Are you serious?” What would she do? Turn around and go back to the mainland? Sleep on the dock?
“Sorry, but yes. I could make some calls and see if I can pull a string or two, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope.”
Shelby wasn’t a suspicious person by nature, but after everything that had happened to her, after finding herself the victim of a dark wizard, she couldn’t help but question everyone’s motives. “Why would you want to help me?”
Reagan blinked, surprised. “Because it’s the right thing to do. Because that’s how we are in West End. We do our best to help folks out, especially the tourists who keep our little town’s economy running.” She held up a finger as she pulled her cell phone out of her hip pocket. “I’ll be right back.”
Ten minutes later, Reagan came back after going inside the cabin to make calls. “Sorry, I came up empty.”
“Well, hell’s bells, I’m shit out of luck, aren’t I? I guess I really should’ve planned better.”
“Hell’s bells?” Reagan grinned. “I know a few people who use that phrase.”
Shit. Hell’s bells was a phrase many witches used. She’d have to be more careful about what she said. “Damn. I’m really stuck.”
Reagan studied her, her gaze settling on Shelby in an intense way. “You can stay with me if you like.”
“What?” She was stunned. What kind of person asked a stranger to stay with them? “No. I mean, it’s nice of you and all, but you don’t know me. I could be a horrible person and steal your silverware or computer or whatever.” She didn’t want to be rude, but she had to speak her mind. “And I don’t know you, either.” Not that she had anything worth stealing.
“Then it’s a good way to get to know each other. Besides, the friends I live with just took off on their honeymoon and left me all alone in our big old house. I’m not afraid of the dark or anything, but I kind of like having someone with me. It’s already getting pretty lonely.”
Could she take Reagan up on her offer? She glanced at the island as they drew even closer. What choice did she have? Either she turned around and headed back to the mainland on the next ferry—was there another one that day?—or she stayed with a woman she’d just met.
“I promise I won’t bite.”
At first, Shelby wasn’t sure if Reagan was joking. “Well…”
“Aw, come on. I’m straight as an arrow, but you can lock your bedroom door anyway. Plus, you’ll have your own bathroom.” Reagan locked her arm in Shelby’s. “Say you’ll stay with me. We’ll have a great time. I can be your personal tour guide. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
Shelby had a good feeling about Reagan. Most of the time her instincts were right. “If you’re sure.”
Reagan squeezed her arm. “Yay. Like I said, we’re going to have a great time.”
Shelby attempted a big smile but didn’t make it. Instead, she turned toward the island again. Had she made a mistake? No matter what, she couldn’t tell her new friend about the curse. Besides, who but another supernatural would believe her? “Yeah. You’re right. This is going to be fun.”
* * * *
“Reagan, you’ve already done too much.” Nonetheless, Shelby allowed her new friend to pull her toward the front door of the Hair of the Dog Saloon. A screech lifted her attention upward to the top of the building.
An eagle?
She jerked out of Reagan’s hold. “Do you see what I see?”
Reagan shrugged. “If you’re talking about the bird, yeah. Don’t worry about him. He hangs around here a lot.” She lifted her voice higher and shouted at the eagle. “He’s here way too much in fact. Shoo, boy. Go home.”
The bird screeched again then took to the air. Shelby followed its path until it was out of sight. “I’ve never seen an eagle so close.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll see a lot of different things on the island. If you stop every time you do, you’ll never get anywhere. So, how about it? Are we going to spend our time talking about birds or having fun?” Reagan pushed open the door and motioned for her to go inside.
The place was packed, surrounding her with friendly noise. The pungent aroma was a mix of alcohol and other scents, most of which she couldn’t distinguish. “You don’t have to feel like you need to show me around. You’re not really my tour guide, you know.”
“Good god, girl, let
it go.” Reagan tempered her words with a smile. “You’ve been saying as much all the way from the house. No, I’m not your tour guide, but I am your friend. And the only one you’ve got on the island, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So far, that is. So relax, okay?”
Shelby had to admit it felt nice to have someone with her. If not, she probably would’ve curled up in bed with a good romance book and had one of her pity parties. Instead, thanks to Reagan, she was in the hub of West End’s nightlife. Such as it was. The bar wasn’t anything compared to the clubs she was used to frequenting in New York City, but the atmosphere was welcoming, even if most of the patrons were eyeing her up and down. She assumed that was to be expected in a small town.
I might as well live it up while I can.
Reagan pulled her to the long counter at the other side of the room. “Bull, how about getting me and my friend a cold one?”
The man behind the counter, a giant by anyone’s standards, pivoted to face them. His bushy beard was peppered with gray to match the gray scattered throughout his long frizzy hair. A dark gaze latched onto Shelby and held. She did her best not to look away, but his searching probe was more than she could handle.
“Who’s this?” he asked. The voice was gruff, but not threatening.
Shelby forced her gaze to his. “I’m Shelby Winters. I’m visiting.”
“A tourist, huh?”
“Shelby, this rude son of a bitch is the owner of this dive bar. Folks call him Big Bull McGowen. Not because of his size, but because he’s so damn bullheaded. Bull, she’s my new friend, and she’s staying at my place.” Reagan snagged the first bottle he placed in front of them. “Be nice to her or you’ll have me to answer to.”