Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Published by Red Rover Books Cover art by Pat Autrey Highland Shapeshifter Seattle, Washington, Present Day Ogres stink. There’s no getting around the odor. Even with the astringent scent of white spearmint oil Lenore had dabbed beneath her nose, the bar reeked. She’d probably have to burn these clothes. High tones from an elfish lyre lilted out from the scratchy speaker system, an airy enchantment squashed instantly by the musty dark atmosphere of the pub. “In back.” Gainy, Starch’s right hand man, well, ogre, canted his bulbous head, displacing swirls of smoke with the movement. “Been waiting on you, Little Pix.” Lenore rolled her eyes and tucked the wayward strands of her white-blond bangs back beneath her knitted cap. “I bet he has.
