Octo BEAR fest (Renaissance Shifters #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

B eing an adult sucked.

Bill Torben didn't like to think of himself as a complainer. In fact, he thought of himself as a good-natured, get-on-with-things kinda guy. But things had been lurching along from okay to bad to worse for the past few years, and as far as he could tell, he was the only one in his family who was concerned about any of that.

It was fair enough that his parents had stepped out of the ring, as far as running Thunder Bear Brewery and the accompanying brew pub was concerned. They'd started it in their early twenties, and were retirement age now. God knew they'd earned that retirement, between raising four boys and developing an award-winning IPA along the way. But Steve, the next oldest and next-most-reliable brother, had moved away years ago now, and the younger two...

The two youngest Torbens, Jon and Laurie, were great. Charming, good-looking, funny—God knew the women thought so—and terrific performers. But serious and responsible weren't words that Bill would apply to them, and it didn't seem to matter how often he explained that renaissance faires were fun , but also expensive and drew time and attention from running the brewery itself.

Bill couldn't exactly blame them. He'd been as into it as they were, up until just a few years ago. Before he'd started taking over more of the family business. And he missed it, especially when the younger brothers came home sweaty and slightly sunburned and happy from days of selling brew at the faires, but...it didn't deal with the day to day realities of running a small business.

Sometimes he wished he'd done what Steve had done: move to another state, start his own business, find love, and get married.

A low chuckle shook his shoulders. The truth was, probably half his grumbling right now was that Steve had gotten married the past summer. He and his mate were a wonderful pair, and Bill was happy for them. What had gotten under his skin was that their cousin, who'd come up from Australia for the wedding, had also found his fated mate about ten seconds after arriving in small-town Virtue, New York, which was half the size of Renaissance, Colorado and apparently just teeming with love waiting to happen. Bill wanted to find that for himself.

Unfortunately for him, he was currently awaiting a 73-year-old jazz musician who had been married longer than Bill himself had been alive. She was the main event for the upcoming Octoberfest that the brewery held annually, and even if she wasn't going to be his true love, Bill was looking forward to meeting her. He'd been listening to her music for years.

A knock sounded on the office door, startling him out of his grim examination of the books. He glanced at his phone: ten to two. Gwendolyn Brooker was early, but that was a hell of a lot better than late, by Bill's standards. He started tidying the desk, calling, "Come in!" and stood with a practiced smile and an offered hand as the door opened.

No, as the door flew open, bouncing all the way to the wall and off it again with a protesting squeak of its hinges.

The woman who blew in was as unlike the sedate, white-haired pictures of Gwendolyn Brooker as Bill could imagine.

She was tall. Rangy. Massive amounts of wild, rough-cut dark hair that was currently tied up in what could only be considered a punk-rock ponytail. Winged eyeliner like knives, haunting vividly blue eyes. Cheekbones that could cut, and a mouth slashed with a drinkable wine red lipstick. She wore rows of hoop earrings and a choker necklace of black lace with a plunging pendant that fell into the cleavage of a hand-cut Ramones t-shirt beneath a studded leather jacket. Multiple belts fell in silver-punctured loops around her hips, and her blue jeans were torn at the knees, one of which sported a bandage with blood staining through the absorbent layer, making it clear the torn-out knees had been come by honestly. She wore thick black boots with untied laces, and carried an electric guitar slung over her shoulder like a weapon.

She was fabulous. She was magnificent . She was electrifying.

She was, unquestionably, his fated mate.

And, Bill knew with a sinking feeling, she was going to ruin everything .