Clifford and Claire, Scene 9
Hi, folks. Happy Halloween. This week’s blog
post contains plugs for a couple of good horror-filled books and another
installment of the background story of Clifford and Claire, the first omega
werewolves. Let’s get down to it.
Kindle eBook
Kindle eBook
Okay, here we are. Claire is making a second attempt to reveal her dual nature to Clifford, having waylaid him in the park in wolf form…
Click on the link to order:
The Dragon of Doughton Park ----------------------------------------------------------
Seasons Readings…
…and for a good cause. I just purchased my copy
of Death By Drive-In, this year’s
CoffinHop offering. It’s a collection of short stories for the Halloween season
put together by a group of indie horror writers. Proceeds from sales go to
support LitWorld, a non-profit literacy organization. The ebook is only $3.99. Good,
gruesome, philanthropic. I recommend it.
What I’m Currently
Reading…
…is the delightfully
clever Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter,
by Seth Grahame-Smith. I cringed when I saw the title of the recently released
movie, and heard very little good about the film. But the book was recommended
by a friend, so I took the plunge. I’m diggin’ it. Grahame-Smith exhibits an
amazing versatility in his writing style.
I was reading a passage
on the bus the other day and laughed out loud. I paused to wipe the tears from
my eyes, and found everyone was looking at me. When I tried to explain,
everyone quickly looked away, pretending not to notice.
Whatever. Y’all should
check it out…
Clifford and Claire,
Scene 9…
Okay, here we are. Claire is making a second attempt to reveal her dual nature to Clifford, having waylaid him in the park in wolf form…
The side trail
ended abruptly at an eight-foot chain link fence. It had been erected around an
apartment complex adjacent to the greenway to prevent cut-through foot traffic.
Clifford chuckled to himself. That never worked. Sure enough, the fence had
been pulled down where it crossed the path, and he could tell it was well-used.
The wolf slipped through without breaking stride and he followed her.
They found
themselves at the edge of the woods. A narrow grassy area separated them from
the rear of a block of apartments. Here, the wolf stopped, looked around, then
lifted her nose to the air.
She’s being cautious, he thought. She doesn’t want to be seen. The thing
he wanted to believe, that this was the pet of someone who maybe lived in these
apartments, was becoming harder to rationalize with each passing second. His
heart was thumping against his ribs again, and not from exertion.
The wolf
crouched, checked in each direction, and slunk quickly across the open space
and into a row of bushes at the back of the building. She poked her head out
from her hiding place. A paw extended from the shadows, too. It turned over,
palm up – it shouldn’t have been able to rotate its forearm like that – and
motioned him to come.
He stepped out
of the woods and into the clearing. Crouching, he tiptoed towards her until she
held up her paw to stop – another gesture no dog or wolf would have been able
to perform – and waved him towards the end of the building.
He followed her directions.
This can’t be happening. They moved
in concert, him moving as quietly as he could across the grass and her keeping
hidden between the bushes and the back of the building. They reached the end,
and he followed her around the side, where she stopped.
They faced a
parking lot. He’d been here before. Oh
god, oh god. She told me. She told me, and I didn’t believe her. I didn’t
believe her because it’s… it’s impossible.
There was no
cover out here. They’d left the darkness of the woods. There were streetlamps
lighting the parking lot and dawn was beginning to brighten the sky. The wolf
sniffed and looked, made her decision, and darted silently down the sidewalk.
She paused at the bottom of the stairway to make sure he would follow before
vaulting gracefully up the steps.
He stumbled
after her. He tried to stay calm and silent as he slowly climbed the stairs.
But his feet seemed to weigh fifty pounds each, and the reinforced concrete
steps clanged as he clomped his way up three flights. He didn’t check where the
wolf had gone. He simply marched up to the third floor and turned in the
direction he’d gone several weeks before.
No surprise, the
wolf sat in front of Claire Deerfoot’s apartment.
His pulse was
pounding in his ears. He felt dizzy, and he grabbed the handrail to steady
himself as he walked towards her. She sat, shifting her weight from paw to paw,
glancing nervously in all directions. He was afraid to hurry, lest he stumble
and fall. He’d lost confidence in any of the neural connections from his brain
to the muscles in his body.
She wedged a
claw under the mat in front of the door and lifted the end to reveal a key. At
this point, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she grabbed it and unlocked the
door herself, but instead she motioned with her head for him to pick it up.
When he
hesitated, she whined in frustration and dug at the key with her snout until
she came up with it in her teeth. He managed to extend his hand, and she
dropped the key into his open palm. He stared at it.
She chuffed, and
he tore his eyes from the key to look at her. She made another one of those
impossible paw-waving motions for him to go ahead. He still couldn’t move.
Finally, she
stood, scratched at the door, and whined.
“Do you know
Claire? It’s okay to go in?” That sounded
really stupid…but sane.
She whined and
scratched with more urgency. He fumbled the key into the keyhole and unlocked
the door. He turned the knob and she pushed the door open with her snout and
slipped inside. He followed and shut the door softly behind him.
It was dark
inside the apartment. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust, but presently
he could make out the form of the white wolf sitting in the middle of the
living room. She whined. He shrugged.
She whined
again, then padded forward to sit in front of him. She reached past his right
shoulder and slid her paw along the wall. Suddenly, there was light. “Oh,” he
mumbled, “you wanted me to turn on the lights.” She sighed and trotted back
into the living room, circled in place a few times, stretched out on the floor…
…and began to change.
“Oh, god,” he
murmured. Oh god, oh god, oh God! He
stood transfixed as the joints in her legs and arms re-aligned, as her hips,
shoulders, and spine re-formed. The wet crackling sounds weren’t doing his
stomach any good. He felt light headed, dizzy… nauseous.
He reached out
to steady himself against the wall, but it wasn’t there. He’d followed her into
the living room without realizing it, drawn to the spectacle of her
transformation. He sank to his knees to keep from falling. That’s better. But he had to pitch forward on all fours before the
vertigo completely dissipated.
He stayed in
that position, taking slow, deep breaths. The sounds of the wolf’s
transformation stopped, and two bare feet stepped into the periphery of his
vision. He looked up.
“Are you okay?”
she asked. It was Claire’s voice. He knew it would be, but…
He sat back on
his heels and took another deep breath. “Uh,” he tried. Then again, “Uhhhhhh…”
She placed a
cool hand on his forehead. “You’re sweating.”
“Yeah,” he
nodded. He shook his head to tear his gaze from her pubis, the hair of which
was white and less curly than most, almost furry. He was rewarded with a salty
drop of sweat in his eye. It burned. “Christ,” he muttered.
“I’ll get you a
towel,” she said.
He wiped a hand
over his eyes as she walked away. He got a glimpse of long shapely leg and firm
buttocks before she disappeared from view into the next room. She reappeared a
moment later to toss him a towel. “Here,” she called.
He couldn’t get
his hands up in time to catch it, and it settled over his face in time to save
him further embarrassment from staring at her naked form. He’d thought she’d
looked good in her jogging shorts the last time he’d visited. She looked even
better without clothes. He shook his head into the towel as he wiped the sweat
away. How could he think about sex at a time like this?
When he pulled
the towel from his face, she’d disappeared again. What now? He pushed himself shakily to his feet. He took in his
surroundings. His gaze settled on the front door.
“You’re not
thinking of leaving, are you?” she called from the other room.
He swallowed.
“N-no,” he lied. What would happen if I
did? Would she come after him? Would the wolf come after him?
“Please don’t
go,” she said. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have time. I just want to get
some clothes on.”
“S-sure,” he
said. God, my voice is shaky. He
cleared his throat. “No hurry,” he added. “Take your time.” That sounded better. But there was no
use pretending. He was scared.
He shuffled
across the room and flopped down on a couch. Maybe he wasn’t in any immediate
physical danger. But he was certain his life had taken a dangerous turn.
And it would never be the same again.
That’s it for now. More to come. Until then, Happy Halloween and…
Happy Reading!
----------------
My Books
The Draculata Nest -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Click on the link to order:
The Dragon of Doughton Park ----------------------------------------------------------
Click on the link to order:
ebook for Kindle in Paperback
ebook for Nook in Charlotte
ebook for Kobo Smashwords
ebook for Kindle in Paperback
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