Page 20 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

She turned to the dog. “Where did you come from?”

Ignoring her, the dog continued his inspection, nose poking under shelves and into nearby occult merchandise.

Talula smiled. “Wow, you’re adorable.”

At that, the dog paused, looked over his shoulder, and stared at Talula with disapproving eyes.

Talula laughed. “You don’t like being called adorable. Noted. How about I get you some water and food?”

The dog continued to stare at her. Then he resumed sniffing. Apparently, he found that acceptable.

“Don’t poop anywhere!”

She heard a distinct, doggy hrmph in response. Talula headed through the Employees Only door to the café’s bare-bones kitchen setup in the back. In addition to the Voltlette, the Blue Moon’s back area contained a sink, a prep table, an electric cooktop, a microwave, and a toaster oven. Despite the minimal cooking tools, Talula did most of her recipe experiments here. After a quick Google search (“people food that won’t kill a dog”), she pulled out a package of grass-fed ground beef from the Voltlette. She set a pan on the cooktop.

A few minutes later, the café was filled with the rich, fatty scent of browning meat. The Employees Only door creaked open—the dog had nosed through a gap in the doorway.

“Hrmph.” He waddled over to where Talula was cooking. He glared at her expectantly.

“Just a sec, you furry interloper.”

When the meat was browned, she spooned the food onto a plate, filled a bowl with water, and set it all on a red-checkered dish towel.

“Noosh-eh joon, pup! Bon appétit.”

The dog stared at Talula, then looked down at the food and water. Then again at Talula.

“I see. You’re a true gourmand.” Talula ducked into the Voltlette to pluck parsley from her herb drawer. She sprinkled it over the meat. “Ta-dah!”

The dog tipped his head back and blinked his eyes up slowly at the ceiling. Talula noticed that he had faint little black eyebrows over his piercing canine eyes.

Talula narrated her visitor’s expression: “Dog Lords above, give me patience to suffer through this pestiferous human and her abominable victuals.”

Talula responded to herself, “My victuals are not abominable, sir!”

The dog broke off his silent, exasperated prayer to squint at Talula. With a long-suffering sigh, the dog began to eat. Slowly at first, then enthusiastically.

Chuckling, Talula closed the Employees Only door behind her. She’d always wanted a dog. Or a pet. Or a familiar. Sara’s familiar, Atusa, a dignified imperial eagle, was on sabbatical at the moment, but she always came by for the holidays.

The bell above the café door chimed. Dahlia arrived, resplendent in leopard-print bell-bottoms and a sleek black turtleneck. “Multidimensional mermaid murder mystery.”

Smiling, Talula reached for the cocoa supplies. “What happened to the Wild West thing?”

“Eh, it wasn’t really speaking to me anymore.” Dahlia slid onto a counter stool, directly in front of Talula.

“You’ve got to go where the muse takes you.”

“Seems like she’s always taking me here.” Dahlia blinked up at Talula, her eyes alight. “Can’t complain.”

“You’re the Blue Moon’s official writer-in-residence,” Talula replied. Now that she knew the why behind Dahlia’s writing, Talula was more eager than ever to be her cocoa supplier/creative cheerleader. “What’s the plot?”

“It’s a work in progress.” Dahlia flung her arms around dramatically. “But it’ll have romance, murder, maybe samurais! And…a corgi?”

“I can’t wait to hear their names,” Talula joked as she whisked.

“No, I mean there’s a corgi here.” Dahlia pointed to Talula’s left. Sure enough, the dog—a corgi, apparently—had emerged from the back room, scrutinizing the young women. There was a bit of parsley stuck in one of his indignant eyebrows. Dahlia scooted off her chair and knelt in front of the dog.

“Meet our new hire.” Talula kept her face deadpan. “He’s the bouncer for our secret underground rabbit sex café.”