Magic and Mayhem (Blue Ridge Magic #1) Read Online M.A. Innes

Categories Genre: Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Blue Ridge Magic Series by M.A. Innes
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
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Talon
Aliens. Deputy Talon Winslow is pretty sure he’s protecting aliens, but he’s starting to get the hang of it…aside from a few interesting issues that keep popping up, like an armored truck going missing. His new job pays too well to be as simple as it looks, but he hadn’t expected glowing eyes and adorable littles who almost sparkle they’re so fascinating. But if aliens come in cute and kinky, does it really matter they’re not human?

Kenzie
Dragons. Kenzie can’t quite decide if the new deputy he’s planning on keeping knows about dragons and mages or not. However, it doesn’t take him long to decide it isn’t the most important question when dating the handsome, slightly puzzling human. When will he get to call him Daddy and if the deputy knows Kenzie is keeping him are much better questions.

When a small mountain town isn’t as boring as it seems, a slightly confused human and a dragon with a toy hoard will learn that there’s always a bit of magic involved when falling in love.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Talon

“Driving all over the fucking mountains just to ask random fucking insane people if they’d happened to see a truck full of gold just lying around where it didn’t belong.” I couldn’t stop grumbling as I drove around the curve in the mountain because it’d been a long-ass fucking day. “Because that makes perfect sense and that’s how police work is done when everyone knows everyone else.”

Sure it fucking was.

And no, the idiots I worked with in the sheriff’s office didn’t know everyone in the entire goddamned Blue Ridge Mountains—but it sure felt like I’d been driving over the whole fucking thing.

Just go around and ask nicely. It’s time you met a few more of the locals, buddy.

“There is no way I’m still in the right state, much less the same fucking county where I actually work.” But fuck if anyone would actually point out the goddamned boundaries. “But nooo, it’s all very normal.”

Bullshit.

Nothing about the job worked like it did anywhere else in the fucking US, and the only boundaries seemed to be where the aliens stopped and the normal clueless variety of humans were actually living. That got more and more obvious every time I turned around because the FBI didn’t casually make phone calls asking local sheriffs to poke around for missed armored trucks.

“Stupid old men with glowing eyes.” That was not an eye condition no matter what everyone tried to make it out to be.

Well, you know, people don’t like to talk about conditions…it’s rude to ask. We ain’t nosy like you city people.

Coming from fucking Raleigh didn’t make anyone city people, and the glowing eyes thing was not a fucking condition that came with hoarding tendencies and a bad temper.

I just wasn’t sure what it was.

“Stupid idiot cops who want a change of pace and something new to tackle deserve to be the butt of fate’s jokes and end up having to argue with aliens about the number of cars they were collecting on their property and if they’d happened to add an armored truck to their list of new acquisitions.”

Fucker was hiding something and it wasn’t just whatever fucking planet he came from. Aliens didn’t seem to lie any better than regular humans and he was up to something.

“Of course, searching his fucking hoard of junk is out of the question because that would be rude.” I’d somehow stumbled into the craziest fucking job ever.

But it was in a pretty area.

And it came with free housing.

And no one seemed to actually commit any regular crimes…the closest we got to that was a cute little kleptomaniac who couldn’t stop stealing five-dollar watches from the local version of the dollar store because they were sparkly.

“So it could be worse.” Maybe? “Where the fuck am I?”

Glancing down at the phone I’d been issued, which was just about the only tech in the entire fucking department, I realized I was coming up on my turn and slowed down.

We do things differently around here, buddy. Don’t worry. We really don’t need computers and that fancy shit.

“That’s fucking bullshit too.” But since I was also supposed to be pretending I hadn’t seen my asshole boss kill three fucking coffee makers just by touching them, it probably made sense.

Whatever kind of alien he was clearly didn’t play well with electronics.

He even had a goddamned rotary phone.

It’d only taken me about twenty-four hours to realize I’d been hired because I could use Earth tech without making smoke explode out of it, and I could handle talking to the outside world without sounding like I was from fucking Mars.

I should’ve realized something was up when I found out it paid better than any police job I’d ever seen.

“Idiot.”

But I was a well-paid idiot and even had a badass pension plan.

And I didn’t mind going to get the money for the watches anymore. That guy was cute and always very confused about how he’d ended up with the gaudy things. If there’d been a spark between us, I’d have asked him out, klepto or not, but he just seemed sweet and friendly.

I didn’t mind that he was an alien too.

I wasn’t speciesist or anything, but he would have to stop stealing sparkly shit if we actually dated, and I wasn’t sure he could do that.

“Fucking moron.” I was an idiot. “People who work for the government in any capacity shouldn’t date aliens. Every fucking sci-fi movie proved that point.”

But I had to stop grumbling and pay attention as I started up another windy road. “Who the fuck lives out here?”

Wait.

How far exactly was I from town?

My list of names and addresses had come on a piece of notebook paper and hadn’t included helpful commentary like careful, he’s nearly feral. My boss and I were going to have a chat about that because some of the delightfully interesting aliens I was supposed to be protecting didn’t have a damned bit of self-preservation instincts when it came to cops. “Fuckers are probably bulletproof, anyway.”



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