Trolling for Trouble: The Lynlee Lincoln Series, #1

Trolling for Trouble

The Lynlee Lincoln Series-1

Olivia Hardin

Copyright © 2022 by Olivia Hardin

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

TROLLING FOR TROUBLE

(The Lynlee Lincoln Series Book 1)

Chapter 1

Rhiannon: Werevamp, doctor, BFF

Rhiannon Blackstone yawned so wide her jaw popped, then she rolled over and stretched her long limbs. The clock read 9:47, and she groaned in reluctant anticipation of what was sure to be another busy day. In one agile movement, she flipped back the covers and leaped out of the bed straight to her feet. Glancing at the nightstand, she saw her diary open, a pen marking the page:

Dear Diary,

Yeah, another one. I swear when my membership for MagicMatch is over, I’m ditching this stupid dating site. Do they even screen these freaks? Tonight’s guy was the worst yet. Seemed totally normal online, so I agreed to meet him at that Chinese buffet I like. I was really restraining myself—only on my third plate—when I realized he had been sitting there with one of his hands under the table since finishing his second helping. He kept staring at me with this glassy look.

Freak!!! I am so glad I drove my car so I could high-tail it out of there. And then when I get home, there’s a message telling me how I’m just not his type and the chemistry wasn’t there and to please not write him anymore because he won’t be able to respond. Uhm, can you say DELETE? Last time I go out with a genie. They never can keep it in the bottle. Lol!

Rolling her eyes at the memory of another failed date, she shuffled towards the kitchen. Her belly grumbled, and she immediately grabbed a whole-grain power bar, punching the button to start the coffee.

Werewolves were pretty much hungry all the time, but it was in the mornings that they were more voracious than normal. She bit off over half of the bar, crumbs exploding everywhere and dusted the oat morsels off her nightshirt and into the sink.

Halloween, she muttered as she glanced at the monthly calendar on her refrigerator. She calculated she had maybe two to three hours before calls started coming in about MAUCs in need of medical attention. It wasn’t easy to be a doctor/veterinarian to the unseen paranormal world.

Magical And Undead Creatures were warned to remain under the radar on October 31st and the days surrounding it. Human perception of the paranormal was heightened during this time, and with all of the attention, it was like asking for trouble.

But many MAUCs just couldn’t resist the temptation. There would be calls about minor injuries and scrapes, vampires with holy wounds and probably a few human injuries that needed the touch of someone with a medical degree and knowledge of the paranormal.

Rhiannon glanced at her cell phone, plugged in on the bar between her kitchen and living area. The blinking light warned she had a message, so she grabbed it and tapped the buttons with her thumb.

Call me when you wake.

It was her best friend, Lynlee, and after pouring herself a big mug of black coffee, she dialed her number.

What’s up girlfriend?

Hey, Rhia. Uhm, hold on, Lynlee said, then shuffled around with her phone a second before speaking again. Sorry, was finishing an email. I can’t do that and talk at the same time.

Rhiannon snorted and nodded her head. Yeah, I know.

And she did. Lynlee was great at multitasking, but for some reason typing and talking didn’t mix for her. She’d end up typing what she was saying and saying what she was typing. Which normally provided lots of amusement for Rhiannon.

Things may get hairy later–no pun intended–so I thought we could catch breakfast if you want.

Are you kidding? I never pass up a chance to eat. That was true. Rhiannon had the appetite of… well, of a wolf.

Yes, I know, Lynlee responded dryly. Your eating habits are the bane of every woman in the world who wishes she could eat what she wants without getting fat.

Shrugging, Rhia heading to her bedroom to start getting dressed. I can’t help genetics. So, meet you at the diner? I’m already drooling thinking about a big giant stack of buttery pancakes. Mmm, mmm…

Darn, Lynlee hissed, and her friend had a feeling she knew why.

Getting a vibration?

Hold on. The irritation in her voice was palpable. She could hear her friend talking to whichever charge had buzzed her via her magical amulet, though she could only hear Lynlee’s half of the conversation. Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Yes, I know.

Standing me up?

Sorry, but duty calls.

Glancing at her clock, Rhiannon frowned. Duty sure is starting early today. I’ll try to check with you tomorrow … after all the fun settles down.

There was little more than a grumble from Lynlee’s end of the line, and then she was gone. It was sure to be a busy day with an abundance of trouble for both of them to deal with.

Well, she said to herself. No one says you can’t go out for breakfast on your own. Slipping into a pair of yoga pants, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door

Chapter 2

Lynlee: Witch, Neutralizer, BFF

My shoulders sagging, I stepped outside the huge granite grotto with heavy feet. I was tired. Dog tired, and I yanked the gold chain attached to my multicolored amulet from its slot in the stone wall with the finality of one ready to throw in the towel forever. That wasn’t the case by any means, but if I didn’t get another call for a few days, that would make me perfectly happy.

With a long breath, I slung the chain over my head and around my neck so that the crystal would rest against my breastbone.

Eyes narrowed, I flashed an exasperated look up at the ceiling of my old storage shed and opened my mouth to speak.

I’m done, I muttered to the heavens, to no one in particular. Done! Lynlee Lincoln is officially off the clock. I need sleep!

It was no secret that I hated this time of year. In truth, most of the others in my profession felt the same way. I knew my best friend Rhiannon complained about it almost as bitterly as I did even though she wasn’t in the business like me.

In the days leading up to Halloween, it never failed that my monitor would go into overdrive. It didn’t matter that MAUCs (Magical And Undead Creatures) were advised to remain out of sight during this particular time of year. No, some magicals were stubbornly unconcerned about the dangers associated with All Hallow’s Eve, even though we all knew Halloween made normal people more susceptible to the subtle nuances and evidences of our existence. Some just couldn’t resist the opportunity to spread their wings, so to speak. Sometimes, literally.

Geez… I muttered, remembering a call that came in at least five hours ago. The vampire bat sighting was something I’d come to expect, yet hoped I wouldn’t get. Stupid kid! I grumbled.

Technically speaking, Montgomery Janeck wasn’t a kid, since he was at least 158 years old. Still, he’d been little more than a teenager when he’d turned into a vampire, so he looked all of 15. Centenarian or not, Monty hadn’t grown up in the least. Just as he did almost every year, he’d found a way to get an invite to a teenybopper Halloween party.

I was sure he seemed perfectly normal to the parents and school kids for most of the evening. But then just about the time all of the other children’s parents arrived to pick up their offspring, Monty the Vampire transformed himself into a bat and began buzzing all the young girls with a lascivious and very un-batlike smile on his furry face. It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled such a stunt and was the main reason he’d requested to be in my charge ten years ago.

I’m a freelance Neutralizer. It’s my job to clean up all the sticky messes MAUCs get into when they mix with normal people. The Salem Witch Trials might have been averted if there’d been people like me around at the time. Yes, I’m a witch, but to be honest, my magic isn’t usually my most important asset. Oh, it helps me, sure, but generally my no-nonsense attitude and assertive attention to detail were what got my MAUCs out of trouble.

I glanced in exasperation at the body of the faux bat on the ground just outside the opening to the grotto. I’d killed the thing in order to convince the panicked parents it must have only been the overactive imaginations of their children and not an undead beast flying overhead. Some local doctor would likely do a little extra business treating one or two kids unnecessarily for rabies, even though each of the families would receive a letter in tomorrow’s mail certifying the animal had not had the disease.

Exiting my oversized storage shed, I hurriedly locked the rickety doors behind me and trudged on towards my house, a meal, a hot bath and sleep foremost in my mind. And not necessarily in that order.

With a flick of my wrist, I waved my hand behind me to engage the invisible shield around the building as an added protection. When I bought this place, my home inspector suggested I tear the shed down and build a new one. But I knew the run-down