My Furry Valentine: "In Between" 1.5 (Peculiar Mysteries) by Renee George

Chapter One
    February 13 th
    Normally, I am not a defeatist. You’ll never hear anyone who knows me say, “Boy, that Sunny Haddock sure is a quitter.” On the contrary, I am an optimist by nature. However, as I lay on the cold concrete floor of Peculiar Paw-On, my wedding dress ripped and stained red, and my stomach cramping so hard I can barely breathe, I am truly ready to cry “uncle.”
    At least now I know it is a who behind the sabotage of my Valentine’s Day nuptials, not a what . It doesn’t matter, though. As of now, the wedding is off.
    *** *
    Two weeks earlier - 14 days until the wedding...
    “Oh. My. God.” Chavvah Trimmel, my business partner and my soon to be sister-in-law, gasped. Her dark brown hair, long and thick, spilled over her shoulders as she shook her head, her blue eyes wide with horror. “Oh, Sunny! Did you stick your head in the oven?”
    “That would’ve turned out better.” I put my hands in front of my face to hide the ravaged skin. “Don’t look at me.” The tears stung as they rolled down my raw cheeks. “Ow.” I rubbed my swollen pregnant belly and hiccupped. I was five months along, which in the therian world was practically full term. Shifter babies only needed six months to cook, unlike their human counterparts who took a full nine. Even though I wasn’t a shifter, my baby certainly was.
    Chavvah took my arm and led me to a chair in my small but wonderful kitchen. Babel had painted it a sage green with accents of gold and chocolate brown. On the wall above the coppery back splash, he’d stenciled the words, Above all else. Love.
    Chav patted my thigh. “Tell me why you took a sandblaster to yourself.”
    Despite my embarrassment, I managed a laugh. “Well, you know those miracle sponges? The ones that take stains off the wall?”
    “You didn’t!”
    I nodded, cringing at the look of pure disbelief in her eyes. “I’m getting married on Valentine’s Day. That’s in two weeks, Chav.” I held up my index and middle fingers. “Two! And this Missouri winter is killing my complexion. It’s bad enough I’m going to be fat in my pictures—”
    “Pregnant.”
    “Whatever! I want dewy skin, damn it.” I knew I was being cranky, but junior was putting a lot of pressure on the inside of my ribs, I had constant heartburn, and I couldn’t walk three feet without farting. It felt like every part of my body was rebelling against me.
    “Sunny.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “You are—um, were—beautiful.”
    I wailed. “I look like I’ve been kissing the sun’s ass.”
    I saw her mouth twitch and her eyes crinkle at the corners.
    “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Chavvah Trimmel!”
    Chav made an obvious effort to swallow her giggles. She walked to the counter to grab the tissue box, her limp noticeable. I worked at hiding my sympathy. There was nothing she hated more than people feeling sorry for her. Her uneven gait was a result of being kidnapped and tortured by monsters—the human variety—and even though she was a therianthrope, or for simplification, an animal shifter, she would always carry the scars of what those men did to her.
    I still felt guilty sometimes. You see, I’m a psychic. Obviously not a very good one, considering I didn’t foresee the miracle sponge ripping my face off, but when my ability works, it’s wicked accurate. I’d left San Diego, California and moved to Peculiar, Missouri in June, shortly after Chavvah had gone missing. My ability showed me nightmare images and clues to her whereabouts, but it still took several weeks to find and rescue her.
    She handed me the tissue box. I pulled out several sheets and carefully dotted the tears from my face. It freaking hurt. “I can’t let Babe see me like this.”
    My unsympathetic baby pummeled me right in the bladder. Even my own child thought I was a doofus. The little darling kicked again, this time even harder.
    “Oof,” I said, holding my stomach and crossing my