Alpha Howl (A BBW Shifter Werewolf MC Romance) (Sons of Thunder MC: Book 2) by Deva Long Read Free Book Online

because the ingenious device could upload directly to our blog. Of course Pablo had no idea how to work it.
    After some messing with network settings and passwords, I could shoot video, edit, and blog all from the palm sized camera.
    I enjoyed learning to use the new toy, until I pointed the lens at the crowd by the entrance and there stood Karl’s fuzzy head. Well not fuzzy really, more like strands of sunlight woven from mountain air, but who was counting every filament in every curl on his head?
    Other than me.
    “Grace, get the camera out your face, and say hello to our famous guests.” Pablo twinkled.
    “The pirate slayers!”
    “Hello Grace.” Karl’s eyes widened, amused.
    Shit. The last thing I wanted to do is get all googley eyed in front of Pablo. He’s very nosy and protective, and would unleash the full on inquisition if he suspected I had a dinner date after the show.
    I lowered my camera. “Good to see you again, Mr. Norman.” I put the Canon back in front of my eyes, “thanks again for saving me.”
    That shocked Pablo. Karl gave me a knowing smile. Jack seemed too busy chatting up one of the models to notice me.
    Or maybe he forgot who I am.
    A few minutes later Pablo walked up to me. “I thought you’d want to spend some more time with that guy. He winked. “He likes you.”
    I waved my hand as if brushing away flies. “Oh you know me and men, Pablo, either I’m not good enough, or they aren’t.”
    “Someday, you have to be less picky. You’ll end up all alone.” He made the face he makes when a customer tries to back out of sale, like the sad dwarf in Snow White. Weepy. “Like me.”
    I gave him a hug. “Oh Pablo, you’ll find the right one soon. You’re the Boardman, after all.”
    He beamed at his favorite tagline.
    “I will, someday, and so will you, chica.” He pulled out his huge phone, which is practically a tablet. The ones people look crazy talking into. “How are we doing?” He hands me his oversized device.
    I’ve showed him a hundred times how to see the web stats. I made him a multi-colored bar chart, updated every minute, and put an app to launch the chart on his start screen. He still needs me to work it.
    I poke the icon and the graphs rendered on the screen. “The blue line is going up. That’s hits. The green line below shows conversions.”
    Pablo looked confused.
    “Sales.” He knows that word, and he beams. “So, people are watching your blog and buying things from the website?”
    Another thing I’ve told him a hundred times. Search engines love good content, information, videos, and pictures. Despite all the emails from experts saying they have the latest tricks to get you to the top of Google mountain, the main thing is the depth of information about what you’re selling. So, I created pages of information on beachwear, how to wash it, what its sun protection factor is. Pages and videos showing how to surf and paddleboard and the site came up high in search results, which in turn sold stuff from the website. Pablo’s still amazed that people buy things without touching them first. Heck, sometimes I’m also amazed. When I first used the internet, Facebook limited itself to college students. It seems like a million years ago, not ten.
    “Awesome,” he says like the surfer he still is. Then, Pablo’s eye glinted. Like he was hungry. Starving. Staring past me. “Customers. Gotta go, Grace,” and he was off on the hunt. I heard him mutter, “Gotta get more salespeople on the floor.” Pablo made a bee line for the flower shirted men wandering through the door and making goggle-eyes at the bikini models.
    A high pitched laugh echoed from the checkout counter.
    Karl Norman had just dropped a shopping basket full of stuff beside the register, and Jennifer, one of the more annoying thing-wearing skinny girls was about to ring him up.
     

twenty
     
    All through high-school, I worked as a checkout girl. I put down the Canon and rushed to the cash