Archer Thresher is cursed to make his shifter gorilla uncontrollably explode in a fit of rage, forcing him to flee, and finds himself in Misfit Bay. There, he meets the most incredible woman, his mate, at the worst possible time of his life.

Unemployed and desperately in need of a reset, Camille Guidry visits her cousin, the owner of the historic Saint Laurent Hotel in Misfit Bay. Once she lays eyes on the hot new guy in town, she realizes how much fun she’s been depriving herself of.

Sparks fly when Archer and Camille hookup, lust at first sight. The only problem is that at any minute, his shifter side could erupt and kill his newfound mate. When he seeks help from the town’s infamous witch trio, one spell is broken but another is activated which leads his enemies straight to Misfit Bay.

Chapter 1

The torturous screeching of twisting metal filled the air as Archer watched in horror. He had just witnessed a passenger train derail at a high rate of speed, scattering the wreckage across the hillside. Not only did he see the crash, but he also spotted the cause. A huge chunk of rail had been removed. He knew instantly that it was no accident. Huge chunks of rail don’t just go missing. That piece of rail was located on a curve, and its absence was intended to create the maximum damage possible.

Archer had been maintaining those same tracks for years, and he’d never seen anything like it. It was sabotage. He was certain of it. Questions about who or why would have to wait until an official investigation. He couldn’t even begin to think who would purposely do something so horrific. Sprinting to the site of the carnage, he immediately went to work, assisting the first responders and rescue teams who quickly descended on the scene.

Amazingly, the worst of the damage was limited to a single car. Unfortunately, there were no survivors in that car. Archer would never forget the sight of the carnage. 

The next day, the investigation was well underway. And Archer quickly found himself in the spotlight.

The knock on his front door was loud, rapid, and relentless. Archer flung it open, ready to snap at what he expected to be a salesman.

“Why are you beating the hell out of my door?”

Instead, he was confronted with a badge. “Detective Gravel, lead investigator.”  The pudgy, sweaty man pushed his thick-framed glasses up his nose.

“All right. What do you want?”

“You must be Archer Thresher. I just have a few questions. I understand you were working on the rails prior to the accident yesterday. Can you tell me what time you arrived and what the exact nature of the work was?”

“Actually, I was just arriving when the accident happened. I’d been scheduled to perform a routine inspection of the tracks on that curve.”

The investigator barely looked Archer in the eye, quickly scribbling in his notepad. “Uh ... huh. And who scheduled you to be there?”

“I got a message on my phone. The text was from the maintenance shop. They have an automated system that sends them out, but I would guess the shop foreman would be the one to have initiated the message to me.”

“I see. So, you showed up just before the accident, but you really have no idea who told you to be there? Just some automated message? Just before the train derailed. That seems … unusual,” the man said.

“Coincidental, I suppose,” Archer replied, wondering where this line of questions was going.

“On your inspection, didn’t you notice the missing track?” the man asked.

“I told you, I was just arriving when the accident happened. Of course, I saw the track was missing, but only seconds before the train hit that section.”

“Uh ... huh. About the missing section of the track … I happen to have another inspection report that was completed only yesterday. It verifies that the tracks were fine. Or was that also just a coincidence too?”

“I have no idea who or what was done yesterday. I only do my job, not everyone else’s.”

“Speaking of your job, Mr. Thresher. I’ve already reviewed your personnel file. You have a history of conflict. According to your record, you have a reputation for having a short temper. Care to tell me about that or not?” He paused for a minute, waiting to see if Archer would answer. When he didn’t, the man continued on. “See, this is where I stop believing in coincidences or accidents.”

The tone of the investigation was rapidly taking a darker turn than Archer had ever expected. He definitely didn’t appreciate being targeted by this snide, greasy man and his unfounded suspicions. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to explain his past only to have it twisted around on him by a professional asshole.

That is not going to happen.

“Listen, let’s cut to the chase. I had nothing to do with this accident. I don’t know anything about missing tracks or anything else. I was only concerned with rescuing people as soon as I saw the derailment.”

“Fine, let’s both be frank here. Don’t leave town.”

“Is that all?” Archer asked, trying to keep his rage in check.

“For now.” The investigator wedged his notebook into the pocket of his suitcoat, which was clearly two sizes too small.

“Fuck you too,” Archer growled as soon as the man was out of sight. The investigator’s visit was unsettling. The derailment was clearly not an accident, and it was looking like he was being set up to take the fall for it.

But who? And why? Archer racked his brain, trying to figure out who could be behind this, but he kept coming up with nothing but blanks. 

Sure, he had plenty of run-ins with his bosses and a few disagreements with a couple of coworkers. His record reflected as much. But each one of those incidents was about his insistence on safety. He was a stickler for it. He would be the last person to ever sabotage the rails. 

It made no sense. Nobody would believe he, of all people, could be responsible ... or would they? Perhaps he could be painted as the ultimate disgruntled employee. The questions running through his mind nagged at him. 

If any of it was even remotely true, there was no way he’d take the fall for what happened. Knowing the best defense was a good offense, he immediately kicked off his own investigation. 

A few basic facts stood out to him. The derailment was clearly engineered. And the nature of the damage meant that whoever was behind it had been targeting a single car ... everything else was collateral damage. It was a start, but more information was needed.

That evening, he turned on the TV to the early news to see a clip from earlier in the day.

“Good evening, my name is Detective Gravel, lead investigator on the recent derailment. At this point, I cannot take any questions due to the nature of the investigation, which is, in fact, a criminal investigation. I can give you some information. 

“We’ve determined that the tracks were strategically sabotaged and targeted to cause damage to a specific section of the train. There were two fatalities in the passenger car, which took the brunt of the crash. Both were females who resided in rural Pearl River. 

“The victims were Morgana Fox, age seventy-eight, and her sister, Sabrina Fox, age seventy-two. I can also say that we are zeroing in on a person of interest, and I expect to announce an arrest soon.”

“Fuck!” Archer shouted, shutting off the television. Bolting to his room, he grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with as many clothes as he could in the bag. From a metal lock box in his closet, he removed a huge wad of cash ... his entire life savings.

The very mention of the victims’ names sent chills down his spine. He knew them well, as did all the shifters. The women were leaders of a local coven. Morgana and Sabrina were legendary witches with a dark history. Generations older than the ages announced by Detective Gravel, they had long ago negotiated a precarious truce with all the shifters in southern Mississippi, with the consequences being the two’s wrath. Considering their reputation for black magic, their anger was feared. Archer was fucked.

It wasn’t dumpy old Detective Gravel and the law he had to worry about ... running from them would be easy enough. It was the coven he had to worry about. The realization that he was the number one suspect in the deaths of the witches led Archer to pack his bags. 

Remaining in Pearl River to clear his name was no longer an option. No matter how badly he may have wanted to. Whatever motive someone had to set him up to take the blame for the derailment no longer mattered. He didn’t have the time that he would need to prove his innocence, and he couldn’t prove that he didn’t do it if he was dead.

The instant he zipped up his pack, the windows rattled like a hurricane-force wind bearing down on his little bungalow. “Damn it, I’m too late.” Dropping his pack to the floor, he waited for the inevitable.

An eerie green fog appeared in the hallway. As it dissipated, a shadowy, robed figure appeared in his room. “Archer! You are responsible for the deaths of my sisters.” A woman’s voice echoed through the house.

“Payton! You have to know I am not the one responsible for what happened. And you know the truce. You cannot act without undeniable proof and the unanimous approval of the coven.”

“Forget the coven. They want to live by the truce and take you to trial. But I deserve blood. I deserve my revenge.”

“Hold on, Payton. You know what will happen if you act on your own and execute me outside of the truce. It’ll be an open war between every shifter in Mississippi and the coven. Give me the chance to prove my innocence. I’ll find out who’s really behind this.”

“I have a better idea. You can prove yourself all right. You can prove to all your fellow shifters what sort of monster you really are ... a monster who cannot control his violent impulses.” A wand appeared from under the long, loose sleeve of her robe. Leveling it directly at Archer, she fired a bolt of magic and delivered a direct hit to his chest.

Archer’s body began to contort within seconds, and he fell to the floor. Writhing in pain from being forced to shift against his will, he screamed out from the pain. When he stood back up, he was a giant gorilla, nearly eight feet tall. He drummed his massive, furry fists against his chest and bared his teeth. In a rage, he trashed his entire house. He always prided himself in mastering the power and fury of his shifter nature, but Payton’s magic had left him with uncontrollable rage. His blood boiled. The pain was excruciating and only exasperated his fury.

Payton’s satisfied but evil laugh filled the air. “Now, they will see what kind of monster you really are. Your own shifter beasts will execute you out of fear. If I were you, I would run. Run now, Archer.”

Archer smashed out the bedroom wall and ran into the dark woods. It was the beginning of months of living on the run. No longer able to control when or where he shifted, he became more isolated and hid from humans and shifters alike.

After a year on the run, he managed to regain some control over his shifts. It was only a fraction of the skill he’d spent a lifetime learning to master. While he didn’t yet consider himself safe to be around too many people, his savings were depleted. But it was really the loss of purpose that finally pushed him to look for a fresh start. He had to emerge from the wild and find some semblance of his old life in a new place. Maybe then he could finally find the peace he so desperately desired.

Driving his truck around the edge of a small coastal town, he carefully took note of the local population and what sort of jobs might be available. There appeared to be two main industries, commercial fishing and oil rig work. Both of which were immediately off-limits. An uncontrolled shifting episode would trap a giant furious gorilla on an isolated ship or platform at sea, and that would be a disaster for everyone involved.

Just before he left the area, he came across the historic Saint Laurent Hotel on the road out of town. Noticing the fresh paint and newly restored masonry, he realized that it had recently been renovated. The only areas lacking progress appeared to be the landscaping, the courtyard, and the pool. They all needed a lot of attention. To say it looked overgrown and neglected wasn’t an exaggeration.

Outside work, where he wouldn’t need to interact with people on a regular basis, might present an opportunity for him. And it was even better that the Saint Laurent was located in a somewhat isolated area outside of town.

The lobby was empty, but someone was busy taking inventory in the hotel’s bar. “Sorry, we don’t open until the afternoon,” the bartender said.

“That’s fine. I was just passing by and thought I’d check the place out. Seems like there’s been a lot of work done here. Looks good.”

“You have no idea. It’s been a total renovation, but it’s mostly done. As soon as the owner finds someone she can trust to take care of the property, it’ll finally be restored to its former glory.”

“Hard time finding help?” Archer asked.

“It’s not that. She’s choosey. She wants the right person for the job.”

“Maybe that’s me.”

“If you’re looking for work, I can introduce you to the owner. Do you have any experience?”

“Yeah. I’m a natural at landscaping, plus I’ve got experience in construction, welding, and electrical. A handyman, I suppose you could say. My name is Archer, by the way.”

Nick shook his hand and seemed to be studying him. His demeanor changed somewhat, almost as if he sensed something about Archer’s unique nature. “I’m Nick. If you’re really all that you claim to be, I think Makayla would be very interested in meeting you. As a matter of fact, she just stepped into the lobby. Hang out here for a minute, and I’ll be right back.”

Nick disappeared around the corner, leaving Archer to wait and, hopefully, to meet Makayla.

She stepped into the room, quickly extended her hand, and seemed genuinely happy to meet him. “Hi, Archer. I’m Makayla, the owner of this money pit. Nick tells me you’re looking for work. What brings you out to Misfit Bay?” For the owner of a hotel, she was much younger than he expected. And she, too, seemed to be trying to sense something about Archer. Something beyond his verbal resume.

“I just left Mississippi, looking for a fresh start. I don’t have anyone or anything holding me down, so I’ve been traveling. I’m hoping to change that … to find a place I can call home. I’m ready for that. I really am.”

“Well, Archer. You’ve probably noticed we have a lot of landscaping that needs tending to. Not to mention the fact that there is a very ornate but tragically decrepit swimming pool in the courtyard. You think you could make some magic happen and bring the outside to life here?”

“I know I could,” he said with enthusiasm.

“Then I’m willing to propose a temporary arrangement, say six months. If you decide you really don’t like it here, no problem, I understand. And vice versa. Since you’re traveling, I’ll even throw in a place for you to stay if you need it. There’s an old cottage on the back part of the property. I call it the caretaker’s house.”

“Perfect. It’s a deal. I can start today. You won’t regret it.” Archer said, eagerly shaking her hand.

As the days turned to weeks, then into months, Archer worked tirelessly to transform the property. There were somewhat rare and unscheduled shifting incidents. Thankfully, nobody witnessed him running off into the bayou as he shifted into a giant gorilla for hours on end.

Despite his past and his safety concerns, he was fitting in. Even though he made sure to keep his distance from everyone and limited his contact with Makayla and Nick, he felt like he’d found a new home.