Sonya’s blond hair repetitively swayed from left to right, her blue eyes rummaging about the two-level bungalow out of control and she quietly moved about the room. She cautiously looked out all of the windows, the two in the living room the one behind her, and the one at the end of the hallway, trying not to be seen by the mysterious stranger on the other side of the front door. She looked to the ones upstairs as if the visitor was not alone and wishing to do them harm.
What was it that she’d searched for? Nothing, only her thoughts rambling, searching for the right words to utter, or what words their guest might speak once the door is finally opened. Sonya franticly moved back to her usual seat at the table. No, she didn’t sit down, not entirely. She only made it half way there before she heard another knock to the door. This time the knock was louder and much stronger.
This time it sounded more like maybe a serious Police “I’m-going-to-take-you-to-jail” kind of knock. In fact, to her it sounded almost like a shotgun blast – not the bomb of the shot itself, but the thud of the impact when the ammunition hits the target. She crouched as low as she could possibly go to the hardwood tiles. Her arms could have dragged on the floor but instead she held onto the table’s edge tight with her eyes just above her knuckles, her nose rested in between her hands.
Sonya resembled a young pussy cat, peeping out of a box at the mystery which lies ahead, and then from the first level of the cabin, less than twenty feet away, rushed up a furious Lynda, with a matte black pistol-grip pump action shotgun in hand, on her way to answer the door.
Sonya bounced into the hallway, taking cover behind the wall, watching her sister as she reached the door. Lynda pumped the shotgun keeping a stone face. “Shick-chick!” Cocking that shotgun was one scary sound. She hoped the person on the other side of the door completely understood what the sound meant! She put her ear to the door and shouted, “State your purpose here!”
From the other side of the door came a voice that seemed to be non-threatening and light in tone, a man’s voice. It could be someone injured or sick or weakened and fatigued. He also sounded as if he was right up on the front door when he said, “Please… I-I… I… I don’t mean any harm. If you could just open up the door and―”
Linda’s eyebrows sunk. She crunched down on her lip with her teeth, flung the wooden door open with a ferocity and speed surprising to the stranger on the other side of the door. Immediately she shoved the barrel of her black beauty to the man’s skull before even getting a good look at his face. She pressed the gun at his skin in an upward motion, bringing waves of flesh over the barrel’s steal, and the man’s eyes widened, and then sunk just as fast.
Lynda’s teeth mashed together and ground as she said, “Didn’t I tell you to never show your face around here again?”
And there he was. He had scraggly brown hair that was flickered up at the ends in blonde highlights. His ears were pierced, and within the holes were four inch round black metal-like earrings. He wore a white button up shirt with a wide collar and ruffled sleeves with Onyx cufflinks.
His beige pants were sort of puffed out at the thighs like a jockey’s would be, but loose enough around the lower leg area to resemble Dickies brand work clothes with full pockets. The buckles on his black Durango boots shined, and his eyes were locked to hers as she held the pistol-grip pump shotgun against his head.
“Please, Lynda… what have I done so ―”
“Jonathan?” Sonya called, and revealed herself as she came from behind the wall.
“Sonya! Please, let me speak with you. I must ―” he begged, trying hard not to move his head, but raising it just a bit to project his voice.
“You the scoundrel that been stealing my chickens, Jonathan Anderson?” Lynda nudged the barrel just a tad more, her finger set to pull the trigger.
Jonathan grinned, but it was quickly hard-pressed in, like a debit card being shoved into the card slot. That’s what it seemed like when Lynda nudged him a third time with the cold, dark hole of her pump shotgun. The pressure compelled his head back a few inches. He stumbled away from her gun point and then voluntarily took a step out the doorway.
He said, “Stealing chickens?” within a snicker, as if he was unconvinced of their seriousness.
“Chicken, hog, hen, cows… are you?” Lynda raised the gun at her shoulders length and aimed, her eye trained at his chest. Her fingers rolled off the neck of her gun as if she was all that anxious to put an opening in him like a Dunkin’ donut.
“What would I have to do with your livestock? I simply arrived to divulge my love to her,” he motioned his hand at the logs, knowing Sonya was somewhere on the other side.
“She doesn’t love you! Don’t you get it? She doesn’t care! Plus, she’s just a kid! Now get off my property or I will shoot you dead, Jonathan Anderson!”
Jonathan Anderson now feeling cocky, nodded his head, winked at Lynda and backed away from the door.
Lynda said, “Come back again and I’ll kill you, Jonathan Anderson.”
“Sure you will. I’m sure you will, Lynda,” he said in a teasing fashion.
Later on, in the midst of the night, Sonya was startled awake by an unfamiliar racket. It sounded like whatever it was that walked upon the earth outdoors, it moved on a tightrope, with four legs, unless it was multiple persons out and about, perhaps hoping to sneak up and steal more animals that roamed about the sister’s clear farmland.
Whatever it was could not have been human, or if it were, how could one tell by only the light crackling sounds from outside? It could be the wind. But if it were the wind, then it breathed really deep, almost as if it could very damn sure well breathe fire in the stroke of an instant.
Sonya obviously was not the only person shocked aware. In less time than it takes for you to twist a door knob handle to the right, glass from the first level of the cabin shattered, a shotgun blast lit up the night, and she covered her ears in the surprise. The sounds of their farm animals and every other undomesticated part of wildlife now called out into the night as if awakened from their dreams.
===================
Want to get a copy and see what happens for yourself? Feel free to grab a copy right now by clicking this link. Enjoy and thanks a lot.
End Notes
Did you like this book? I certainly hope that you’ve enjoyed being in the land of shape shifting Were’s, wolves and she-cats, if only for a few moments. And if you are looking for even more books by Susan G. Charles please feel free to check out some of her other works below:
Animal Heat: A Paranormal Romance – the first book in The Animal Sagas series. In it little sister, Sonya is kidnapped, and Lynda, the oldest, must do her best to get her back – using any means possible.
Toots and Poots in a World Full of Snoots: The Amazing True Story of One Boys Gas-tly Abilities – is the story of a kindergarten aged boy, Timothy Oscar O’Toole, AKA, Toots, with a talent for farting – a skill he obviously loves to share with all his friends. A great story for kids of all ages!
For the most up to date information about the works of Susan G. Charles, please feel free to visit her facebook page, website or her Amazon author profile.
Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Free Chapter Preview: Animal Heat: A Paranormal Romance
End Notes
Table of Contents
Animal Nature: A Paranormal Romance
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Free Chapter Preview: Animal Heat: A Pa
ranormal Romance
End Notes
Table of Contents
Animal Nature: A Paranormal Romance (The Animal Sagas) Page 5