Feral Magic Excerpt
I know you can get the first chapter as a sample at amazon or bn.com (and those of you who have Kobo, I haven't forgotten, I asked last week and they have applied to be a Kobo distributor and are awaiting reply).
But here's the hero/heroine meet:
Dak is the hero, black werejaguar, Brandy is the heroine, human:
Purrs roused Dak near dawn and he tensed, stared at the small, black female cat who’d awoken him. He’d gotten no more than a couple of hours of sleep and weariness dragged at him.
After a disrespectful conversation, the cat led him to food. She slunk over to a few bites in a dish set outside a wooden fence. Dak’s nose twitched. He hadn’t eaten for a long time. He stared at the cat. He supposed it would be rude to eat her. No matter how irritating she’d been, she’d helped him. And he really didn’t eat felines. Except after battle with his enemies.
He caught a whiff of something and his heavy mane lifted along his spine. His nephew, Favel!
With one leap he was over the fence…and hit by two small and plump cat bodies.
This is OUR house, go away! said the black and white one.
Go, go, go! said the long-haired black.
I have come for my kit, Dak snarled, putting vibrato into his threat.
The thing. He has come for the thing! the younger, long-haired cat said.
Good. He can have the thing. He is another thing. Black-and-white cat was older and dominant. Dak sensed that though the two lived together they weren’t family or friendly.
The black-and-white cat lifted his lip to show tiny fangs.
Dak let his growl rumble all the way from his gut.
The damn black cat shrieked. Neither of the small ones backed down. He could admire their courage even as their foolhardiness disgusted him.
Creaking door, stomping feet. The hopeful and wonderful smell of Dark Panther Klatch shit and urine – Favel!
“What’s going on here?” A woman walked out, holding the baby who wore a cloth on his nethers!
Dak bounded over the small cats, sending them tumbling with his tail.
Brandy froze, angled her body to protect the baby. Her heart pounded. The one step back into the house and closing the door would be too slow.
The threatening black jaguar pinned her with his glare. His head was taller than her waist. She’d viewed a lot of photos of wild cats on the internet, and though the cat had a jaguar’s facial features and build, his mane was a lion’s, long and growing nearly halfway down his back.
Huge, bigger than any of the “largest” stats. Longer, heavier. Bigger teeth.
His upper lip had risen, showing really scary fangs. A dangerous, predatory, intelligent purple gaze watched her.
She managed a tiny swallow. She’d known Stanley had been well cared for. But why hadn’t she thought someone – something – would come for him?
The adult version of Stanley tilted his head back and his nostrils flared. His plumeless tail lashed.
Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run. Mountain lions. Make yourself appear bigger! Yell! She didn’t think that would work with this beast. She supposed she was lucky seeing him at all instead of being ambushed and killed. She took a step back. Didn’t stumble over the threshold.
He prowled forward.