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Jingle Spells by Dakota Cassidy

Christmas, Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, futuristic, holiday, humor/comedy, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, sci-fi, shapeshifter, werewolf Add Comment
Jingle Spells by Dakota Cassidy

Jingle Spells
Stocking Stuffers (multi-author series)
by Dakota Cassidy

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 01620-00502

Far, far away, in another dimension where all the paranormal creatures of the universe live in perfect harmony…er, well, sorta, Nia Weston and Kier of Santori are about to shake up the galaxy.

Again…

Their constant bickering and competitive brawls have their co-workers going home each night with ulcers and one colleague in particular has had enough.

This Christmas Eve a snarky werewolf and an arrogant alien are about to receive the gift of giving.

Whether they like it or not.

Note: This title has no chapter breaks. Please enjoy the first scene.

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Scene One

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Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest by Dakota Cassidy

action/adventure, Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, humor/comedy, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, vampire Add Comment
Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest by Dakota Cassidy

Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest
by Dakota Cassidy

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 1-59596-173-9

Joy is a vampire who works in the family-owned funeral parlor, and she’s got a bit of a problem. Detective Larkin McBride is Joy’s problem and it isn’t just because he’s big and hot. Well, that doesn’t help matters, but it’s because curiously, he can read Joy’s every thought. So what will Larkin do when Joy’s thinking about all these dead bodies showing up and the possibility that they were murdered?

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Chapter One

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All Wrapped Up: Slave School Dropout by Dakota Cassidy

action/adventure, BDSM, Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, Series: All Wrapped Up, shapeshifter Add Comment

All Wrapped Up Vol. 1 (Collection)
by Dakota Cassidy and Kate Hill and Angela Knight

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-552-5

Angela Knight — Blood Service
Adiva Mayhew is a spy — and a damn good one. But now she’s running for her life from a deadly bounty hunter — who’s also a Vampire…

Dakota Cassidy — Slave School Dropout
Nyla is a cat. So is Lucas. Nyla is an Egyptian Mau, descendant of the Goddess Bast. Lucas… isn’t. In fact, he’s a Tom cat. Unlikely lifemates at best.

Kate Hill — Tainted Kisses
Niabi’s only choice is to strike a bargain with Etlu — the humans’ lives in exchange for her complete surrender to his desires.

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Prologue
Slave School Dropout by Dakota Cassidy

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Wolf: Werelock by Dakota Cassidy

Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, humor/comedy, m/f, magic/witch, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, Series: Wolf, shapeshifter, werewolf Add Comment

Wolf (Collection)
by Dakota Cassidy and Marteeka Karland and Kira Stone and Sierra Dafoe

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-546-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-59596-813-5

Werelock by Dakota Cassidy
Addison Ross agrees to go on an All Hallows Eve pumpkin picking expedition to appease her niece and nephew. Hoo boy does she ever pick a winner. Beneath her pumpkin lies a talisman that brings the delish Caleb Marsden into her life. Caleb Marsden, the werelock…

Prologue

Dear Nathan,
So I went pumpkin picking with my sister and her kids like three weeks before Halloween. I said it was much too early in the month. But my sister, Tricia, said that if those two spawn of Beelzebub spent one more second driving her out of her mind, she was going to hang a noose on her tree in the backyard, stick her head in it, and jump from the highest branch.
I told her I didn’t think her husband, Griffon, looked at all like Beelzebub, but she kinda did.
I also thought that was sorta extreme and the visual was kinda ugly in my mind’s eye, but well, Joel and Sophia are spirited. Spirited is the polite word that stressed out, glazed-eyed parents use when they’re describing their little heathens. Heathens that constantly move and chatter. I say, bring on the Valium and slip it in their Kool-Aid.
Hoorah for whatever helps you preserve your sanity.
Plus, to make matters worse, lately Sophie has been driving Tricia nuts about getting a dog. At the ripe old age of six, she’s decided — after watching far too much Animal Planet in my opinion — to become a veterinarian and she’d told us all quite proudly she needed a puppy to practice on.
According to Tricia, if Sophie mentioned getting a dog one more Jesus effin’ time, she’d simply end it all.
Anyway, we’ve had a cold snap and the kids had been stuck inside for a week. So they were driving her insane. Clearly Tricia needed respite. And a reason to razz the shit out of me for doing nothing but work. They take me pumpkin picking and Christmas tree hunting every year, under protest, while they nag me about my social life.
Er, non-social life, that is.
They make me go because they think that Auntie Addison needs to get out more. I say bullshit. Well, I didn’t say bullshit to the kids. Just so we’re straight. They’re only six and eight. I’d never do that. I said bullshit to Tricia about the theory of me getting out more.
I get out. I do. I go from my townhouse to my car to my office, and then do that all in reverse at like six o’clock at night. Okay, maybe more like nine if I’m honest. Sometimes I get all crazy and make a trip to the grocery store for milk that never fails to end up sour because I’m always working and forget it’s in the fridge.
My sister (and her kids too — they’ve learned well from the master nagger) calls me driven and ambitious. Like the little shits even know what those words mean. I call my sister crazy for so purposely and intentionally having nose pickers with big mouths just like their mother’s.
I mean, they’re cute and all, and, yeah, I love ’em but, Jesus, they have way too much to say. Just like their mother.
Big mouths aside, I went anyway just to shut them all up and keep the peace. I hadn’t seen them in a month and I was long overdue for a visit. I figured I could be in and out of that pumpkin patch in an hour flat and back home with the glow of my computer warming my face in an hour and a half tops given mini-van travel time. Well, maybe not an hour. I’d forgotten to include time for the apple cider and donuts.
They’re a must, according to nose picker number one, er, my nephew Joel, and when you’re eight, it’s an experience you don’t wanna miss.
I’d soon come to find there were several experiences at the pumpkin patch I didn’t want to miss and it wasn’t just the apple cider and donuts. I just didn’t know I didn’t want to miss them until I almost did, ya know?
I know. You’re confused. I was too. Bear with me.
Here’s the thing. I skipped along behind those two little buggers and Tricia, between those rows of that damned pumpkin patch for like forevah until we finally found suitable pumpkins for them.
Little Sophie’s pumpkin coup was the hardest of all. Christ, you’d think we were shopping for friggin’ life support machines rather than a pumpkin. Sophie took choosing one to a whole new level. It had to be round, perfectly so. It had to be reallllly orange. “Cuz that’s how punkins should be, Auntie Addison,” she’d reminded me in all of her six-year-old wisdom. It had to be reallllly big. Big enough that she could fit three candles in the base so it would be reallllly spooky at night after it was carved. I remember smiling down at the top of her chestnut brown head and saying, “Reallllly?” and making her giggle.
Everything was reallllly something or other with Sophie. That word was synonymous for Sophie with anything needing solemn description or anything seriously cool.
When we’d finally settled on one for each of the kids, they decided I needed one too. I didn’t want to tell them it would most likely rot away, sitting on my kitchen counter because I’d forget about it. Not to mention, I turned off all my lights and locked my doors come Halloween night. Trick-or-treaters are a persnickety, snobbish bunch these days. They want the big candy bars and they call you crappy names if you don’t cough up the good stuff.
Shit on that. I don’t need a bunch of ten-year-olds in Darth Vader costumes calling me cheap. I have my niece and nephew around to abuse me plenty, thanks.
Fine, I said. Auntie Addison needs a pumpkin like she needs a spiral perm, but sure, let’s blow twenty bucks so I can see just how long it really does take a pumpkin to rot. It’ll be like a science project.
My sister nudged me hard in the ribs and gave me the “mommy” look. The one that says I was being a mean, cranky, old auntie, spoiling all the fun — who was going to end up all alone in a nursing home someday because she wasn’t nicer to her sister’s demons.
I rolled my eyes and grudgingly agreed. Auntie Addison did indeed need a pumpkin.
I guess that’s where the trouble all began for me.
That fucking pumpkin.
And what was under it.
I should have stuck to my guns and refused to buy one, but I honestly do love the little heathens and I sure would like someone to visit me come my twilight years if my life keeps going on the path it’s on. I really am absorbed in my work and I haven’t dated in well over three years.
So I picked a pumpkin.
A humdinger of one.
Joel began jumping around like he always does. He’s prone to constant motion. It’s as if he’s had an overdose of his daily gummy worm intake and the sugar was rushing to his skinny, little legs. Thus creating a Riverdance-like effect. He makes me dizzy and my head swirls from his endless chatter.
So I didn’t pay attention to all the noise he was making after I’d yanked my pumpkin up.
When I saw him pointing to the soft dirt where the pumpkin had been and realized he wasn’t just jumping around for the sake of making us all bonkers, I stooped to check it out.
And there it was. A little statue on a rope imbedded in the dirt. It looked like a totem pole to me.
Joel thought it was uber cool and Sophie thought it was reallllly weird. Imagine that, eh? Very predictable my Sophie is.
So since we found this — this — er, talisman is what I’m told it is — shit’s been a little crazy around here.
That brings me to why I’m writing this letter. I mean, in case I don’t come back, I’m going to assume that eventually my sister will come looking for me. Damn, I hope she doesn’t bring the nose pickers here to my house before you can contact her. They might get upset if Auntie Addison is dead.
I really do love them. In fact, part of the reason I’m doing this is because I love them. Well, it’s not the only reason, if I’m honest. I kinda like the guy that started this whole talisman thing. No, I mean I really like him and if I don’t help him, he might not come back either. I think the world won’t much miss me if I end up dead trying to help him. My sister has her family and husband to keep her busy. They all have each other.
Me? I don’t have much that needs me here.
But if I’m left behind after this mess is over, I’d sure miss Caleb if he ended up six feet under. He’s the guy I mentioned. Anyway, I’ve grown attached to him. Like seriously attached. So I hope you’ll understand why I had to go with him. He fulfills something in me I didn’t know was missing. I like the way he calls me Addy. He makes me smile. He makes me nuts. He makes me wish I’d spent less time at work. He made me realize there’s a whole lot going on out there that I didn’t know about. He made me value the here and now.
And so what if Caleb isn’t your typical idea of a knight in shining armor? He’s mine. At least I think I want to find out if he can be anyway.
I’m leaving this note in the event of my death and I’ve followed it up with a message on your service that you won’t get until November first.
I was of sound body and reallllly close to sound mind when I wrote this. Please tell Tricia there’s a more detailed account of the events since that day at the pumpkin patch in my top right-hand dresser drawer. Oh, and tell her I love her and I’m sorry I didn’t go pumpkin picking without bitching about it for all these years.
As for you, Nathan, my legal-eagle, well, you’ll know what to do after you read this.
Addison Ross

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Wolf Mates (Collection) by Dakota Cassidy

action/adventure, Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, humor/comedy, m/f, paranormal, print, Publisher: Changeling Press, shapeshifter, suspense/mystery, werewolf Add Comment

Wolf Mates (Collection)
by Dakota Cassidy

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-686-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-59596-346-8

Derrick Adams is not happy. His pack of werewolves isn’t like all the others…

Derrick’s brother Max found his lifemate in the pound, he has a cousin who’s a vegetarian, and Xavier Wolf comes from a pride, instead of a pack. Lassiter Adams isn’t exactly what he seems, either. Neither is his parakeet!

Now Derrick has a lifemate of his own — and she isn’t barking. You’ll laugh, you’ll sigh, and you’ll need a fan, because these stories are exceptionally hot!

This collection contains the previously released novellas An American Werewolf in Hoboken, What’s New Pussycat?, Moon Over Manhasset, and Ruff & Ready.

Prologue – An American Werewolf in Hoboken

He ran as though the hounds of hell chased him, pounding the pavement with swift, measured strides. The click of his nails echoed in the rain soaked, empty streets. Flashes of buildings passed in a blur as his eyes sought frantically to find food. His long tongue slipped out of the side of his mouth, draping down over the thick hair that covered his chin — er, muzzle.
Panting, he eyed each alleyway from his peripheral vision, searching…
The smells of the city assaulted his ultra sensitive nose. He sniffed the air, picking up the scent of broiled steak, pork chops with thick brown gravy, veal medallions in a creamy white sauce with sliced onion, and a sprig of parsley for garnish. Scalloped potatoes… no wait, they were au gratin.
Oh, hell he was hungry.
Shit, he really loved veal too… Wee little succulent morsels of calf that he couldn’t have right now because he was too damn busy playing this stupid game of “here, doggy, doggy.” Which he wouldn’t be doing if it weren’t for this vision.
A sharp whistle stopped him in his tracks and again his ears pricked to the tune of, “Here, doggy, doggy!”
Address me as I should be addressed. It’s Mr. Werewolf to you…
If he could sigh he would. Instead he flared his nostrils and huffed.
Did it get any worse than this? I mean, c’mon… who was this vision anyway? This soulmate who was supposed to rock his world? And where was it written that he had to play Mission Impossible just to get laid? This was above and beyond the call of duty for a little horizontal mambo.
He hated all of this mumbo-jumbo folklore crap he’d been taught since he was a child. He really just wanted to hang out and play Nintendo 64. But the call of a good lay beckoned… or that’s what he heard it was going to be anyway. A good lay… good as opposed to none. He sure as hell hoped his soulmate appreciated this, cuz it was a crappy way to hook-up in his estimation.
The Prophecy has spoken, Eva’d said…
Prophecy? Hah! What kind of prophecy had you running around a town called Hoboken, with the butt crack squad hot on your heels? What kind of prophecy was found in a bowl of chicken noodle soup? But his family members claimed Eva knew all. How one could “know all” from processed chicken in a can was beyond him.
Although, legend had it that if he didn’t follow his stupid path of destiny, he was shit for shineola. He’d have to face the mojo of all mojos. So, rather than risk the possibility that this destiny of his was flat-out stupid and it wasn’t worth a really freaky curse, he ran.
Fast.
Because he couldn’t afford to be caught and miss this prophecy thing.
Racing down a deserted, dimly lit street, he spied a chain link fence that might be his ticket outta this.
Except he had four paws and not a pair of legs to climb said fence.
Well, shit.
The thunder of feet diminished behind him. Maybe they’d given up. His ears pricked to the tune of the clink of the fence as the men climbed it.
A bright light cornered him as he swept past a dumpster, only to find a dead end.
Fucking ducky…
“Hey look, he’s friggin’ huge,” one of the men commented.
Ahh, the animal catching engineer… isn’t that what they called them now? Bright indeed, very bright. Damn right he was huge and he was going to take a bite out of his engineer ass if he came any closer.
“Wait,” one of the bright twins said, “I’ve got something for him.” He began to dig around in his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag.
He watched skeptically from the corner he was backed into and sniffed the air.
“Look, puppy… look what I have…” Wiggling the meat in air, the animal catching engineer shook it at him. Obviously this was meant to entice him.
He sniffed liberally the air that surrounded the meat. Oh, fuck that. It was going to take a helluva lot more than some cheap round steak to get him to bite. He was a filet mignon kind of guy…
His stomach growled in protest, meaning, round steak was better than no steak.
Well, okay, he’d bite. He could easily knock this guy out as he snatched the meat from him. Snarling, he came closer, moving in on Einstein’s hand, exposing his teeth.
Teeth… it was all about showing them the teeth. Freaked everybody out.
He leapt in an arc Bruce Jenner would be envious of, snatching the meat and gobbling it halfway down his throat when he felt the sting of the dart.
If he could, he would have sighed at how predictable that had been. Well, fuck, he thought as he fell to the ground with a hard thud and the world began to spin… looked like he was going to the pound.

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The Ex-Files by Dakota Cassidy

Dakota Cassidy, ebook, erotic, humor/comedy, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, time travel 2 Comments

The Ex-Files (Collection)
by Dakota Cassidy

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-59596-982-8

Meet Maddie, Vicky, Katy, and Maxie. Each woman devastated — and divorced. Join four women as they laugh, cry, time travel, meet a vampire and a cursed warrior, but most importantly, learn to love again!

This collection contains the previously released novellas Mayhem and Maddie, Maxie’s Man, Kinky Katy, Maddie Got Run Over by a Reindeer, and Vicky the Vixen.

Chapter One

Dear Diary,
I am officially divorced. Done… finito… O-V-E-R, with the man of my dreams. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t my dream man, but he wasn’t a total nightmare either.
Madison Blake snorted at that, as she threw down her pen and her emotional journal. It was a stupid name for a stupid task.
Her therapist said she should keep a journal to help her get through this post-divorce depression. Maddie thought he was more cracked than she was with all of his fancy words and two-hundred dollar sessions. They spent much of their time together visualizing and using affirmative statements like “I will.”
“See yourself alone in the pictures of your mind, Maddie,” he would say in dulcet tones, stressing the alone thing.
Yeah, she saw herself all right, alone, in her rocking chair. With a dozen cats or so camping out around her feet while she shared a can of cat food with them.
Yum-yum.
Visualize that, you friggin’ whack-job. Maddie flopped back on the bed and sighed. A bed she now spent all of her nights alone in, thinking about how much more time she would spend alone in it. She missed just knowing at eleven sharp, Albert’s warm body would climb in beside hers. She ran a hand over the empty space and her heart clenched. In the same moment, anger burned in the pit of her belly.
Fucking asshole.
Why the hell should she spend a wasted moment on him? He’d dumped her like day old bread. Kicked her to the curb. He didn’t deserve her longing. But it hurt like hell just the same. All of the day-to-day routines were gone. Every last shred of normalcy yanked rudely out from under her. Nothing was the same, nothing. Albert was off joyfully finding his happy place in Nirvana while she struggled to understand what kind of underwear single girls wore these days.
Oh, she’d tried to find some sort of balance in this mess. She’d done all the things her friends told her would help her get back on her feet. She’d read all the books they’d thrust at her on divorce. Began counseling with Mr. Wing-nut, of the soothing tones and lame catch phrases. Found a cute bachelorette pad that was conveniently located in the heart of meat market row.
Now all she had to do was move on. Live her life like every day was the last. Maddie looked up at the spot on the ceiling. It needed to be painted. Maybe she should decorate. Corrine said that would make the space her own. She’d even brought paint chips for Maddie to choose colors from. They were gathering dust on her nightstand.
Thing was, she didn’t want her own space. She wanted to continue to share it with Albert. As pitiful as that was.
Well, you can’t do that anymore because he doesn’t want to share with you. He wants to share it with a bimbo or two… or three.
There it was again, the familiar tug at her heart over Albert’s betrayal. Over his incessant need to be the center of all things Albert.
Jesus, how happy could you be to see the person you heard farting all night long after ten years of marriage? Was she supposed to drop everything and hump his leg in overwhelming gratitude because he came home every night? Should she have thanked him profusely for gracing her with the duty of washing his crusty underwear? Maybe she should have gotten down on her knees and given him a blowjob while she stirred the pasta sauce, because he’d allowed her to make his dinner.
Maddie rolled over, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly to her chest. She was tired of trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. If loyalty and faithfulness weren’t enough, fuck Albert.
Fucking.
Now, there was a word she feared might never enter her vocabulary again. She and Albert had enjoyed a decent enough sex life. She couldn’t remember seeing stars or anything, but she’d orgasmed a time or two in ten years. She’d given her fair share of head and Albert didn’t complain. But not even Albert had seen her completely naked in more than ten years. Only God saw her in the buff and that was the way it would stay. Didn’t single guys want to see single girls naked?
Screw that. No naked.
Maddie retrieved her pen and journal. Scribbling out the first entry, she made another.
Dear Diary,
This is total crap with a capital “C.” I am divorced and Albert was a putz for putting me through this. I deserved better than him. Maybe I’ll give “better” a shot. Maybe I’ll screw everything with a cock and then screw them again for good measure, just for the sheer pleasure of screwing.
Oh, all right. So I probably won’t do that. Sorta goes against my good girl nature. But look what being a good girl got me. A big, fat divorce…
Maddie threw the pen at the wall. The journal followed shortly thereafter. They clattered together and fell to the floor. She smiled with satisfaction at the noise it made, then frowned, worrying she might have awakened someone in the next apartment.
A tear trickled down her face as she remembered there wasn’t anyone here to awaken.
* * *
“Look, Corrine, I don’t want to go to parties. Just because THE ASSHOLE and I are divorced doesn’t mean I want to bar hop.” Corrine’s sigh crackled across the lines of Maddie’s cell phone. Maddie could see her twirling her long chestnut hair in aggravation. They’d only had this conversation a hundred times since she and Albert divorced.
“I’m not talking about bar-hopping, Maddie. I’m talking about getting the hell out of that damn apartment at night. Please. It’s a party, not an orgy, okay? I swear no one will ask you to get on your knees and perform wild acts of lasciviousness, all right? It’s just a function I have to attend and I thought it would be good for you to get out. So stop being such a pain in my ass and come with me.”
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get out. It beat the hell out of watching the Home and Garden channel until her eyes refused to stay open and she crawled off to bed.
Alone.
Albert was probably out every night boinking anything that moved. What was she waiting for? She had to begin to live.
Or quit breathing.
Her choices were becoming limited.
“Fine. But I’m only staying for one drink and I’m not going to stand for you introducing me to ‘one of your clients,’ as you so tactfully dub them. They’re not clients, they’re looking to hook up. I don’t want to hook anything but a rug, okay?”
Corrine was fairly bubbling with joy. Maddie heard her rapid breathing as she spoke as calmly as she could while hovering on the brink of orgasm over Maddie finally giving in. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re going to come with me and I promise, no ‘clients’.”
“What time and where?” Maddie’s tone was flat as she ran a hand over her hair in exasperation.
Corrine clucked at her. “Honey, could you sound just a wee bit excited? I’m not inviting you to your own hanging. It’s just drinks and liver pâté on a cracker.”
Says you.
To Maddie it was like going on a trip around the world. She hadn’t gone out socially in over six months. She went from her apartment, and to the office, occasionally making a stop at the grocery store to buy more coffee. She lived on coffee. As a result, she was a very skinny nervous wreck.
“Forgive me if I don’t offer you an ovary as a ‘thank you’ gift.” She heard the dryness of her tone, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She didn’t want to go anywhere but back to her house in the suburbs.
Silence. That meant Corrine was pouting.
Maddie blew a gust of air out and watched as the papers on her desk scattered. “I’m sorry, Corrine. I never would have made it past the suicide stage if it weren’t for you. I just can’t seem to feel motivated about anything. I want to, I do. I just don’t. I don’t care.”
“I know, believe me we all know you don’t care. But I do. I want you to begin to live again. I want you to see that you’re a beautiful thirty-five-year-old woman who has so much going for her. Your life doesn’t have to involve a man, but it has to involve something more than a carton of ice cream and the Home and Garden channel.”
Tears stung Maddie’s eyes in gratitude. Corrine had hung tough with her through this whole divorce thing. Long nights on the phone while Maddie sobbed over the loss of her marriage. Packing up and moving her to a new apartment. Holding her hand the day she’d gotten the divorce papers. She wasn’t being very grateful.
“I’m sorry, Corrine. I know I’ve been nothing but a big baby. I’ll try harder.” Contrite was always the best way to appease Corrine.
“Don’t appease me,” Corrine said with a sharp accent on the ‘S’ in appease. “I understand how you really feel. I just don’t want you to feel that way anymore.”
Maddie groaned into the phone. Did Corrine really think she wanted to feel this way? God, what she wouldn’t give to wake up one morning and not have that hollow, empty canyon of pain in the pit of her belly. To wake up minus the ache of loneliness that sucked her dry and left her shaking, when she realized it was just her in the bed. Wake up and find there was something to look forward to besides the big, black void of her future.
Maddie gulped. Albert was a lying, cheating puke, and she wasn’t going to waste another nanosecond mourning him.
Not right now, anyway.
Swiping at the escaping tears, she swallowed her grief. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore either, Corrine. So tell me when and where and I’ll be there with bells on.” Well, maybe not bells, but at least heels and a dress that wasn’t something Holly Hobby would wear.
Maddie jotted the details down and stuffed them in her purse. There was nothing left to do but go home and wait. Her stomach turned as she thought about going home to her quiet apartment. Maybe she’d get a cat… or two.
Meow.
* * *
This was quite the event. Tuxedo clad waiters drifted silently in and out of the hushed groups of over-dressed executives. Champagne glasses clinked as trays of food were offered. Maddie watched the golden liquid swirl in her glass as she smiled and refused the crackers with brown, yucky stuff on them.
Liver pâté.
Ick.
Not a weenie in a blanket in sight.
Corrine waved her over to the group of colleagues she was deep in conversation with. Crossing the room, she hoped her heels didn’t buckle. She didn’t wear them much anymore and she certainly didn’t need to land flat on her ass. This wasn’t an ass landing party. Smoothing a hand over her black cocktail dress, she approached Corrine and her group of friends hesitantly.
Corrine gave her an air kiss and introduced her. “This is my good friend, Madison Blake. She sells real estate, so if you’re in the market for a new home, Maddie’s your girl.”
Well, at least she didn’t tell them she was newly single. She always felt desperate and naked when that particular tidbit was revealed. Maddie smiled and nodded at everyone, while Corrine finished her conversation with the really old guy who needed a nostril trim.
Maddie stifled a yawn while Corrine talked stock options. Her bladder began to protest all of the bubbly and lack of liver pâté.
She needed a bathroom and a cigarette.
Leaving Corrine, quietly so as not to be noticed ditching this shindig, she went off to locate the ladies room. Crossing the wide marbled lobby, she found the restrooms.
With her bladder empty, she needed a smoke. Digging through her purse, she searched for a pack of cigarettes. Damn, she’d left them at home. Upon further inspection, she found one lone cigarette, crumpled but still completely smokeable. She peeked around the corner of the bathroom door, only to find “no smoking” signs prominently displayed in every damn corner.
Well, shit. Going back outside was not an option. It was cold, and she’d left her jacket back with the coat check near Corrine’s little soiree. If Corrine caught sight of her, she’d haul her back to that damn party and make her eat liver pâté.
Ick.
Maddie made her way down the long carpeted corridor. Music blared from the other end of it. Her ears pricked to the tune of “Livin’ La Vida Loca.”
Oh, she loved this song! Upside inside out… She used to try to get Albert to dance with her to it.
This is your Albert alert… remember Albert is a fuck head. Forget Albert. Think Ricky Martin. He’s yummlicious and not at all a fuck head.
Right, Albert is a fuck head. Ricky, on the other hand, is babe-o-licious. Sobering at that thought, she still found herself drawn to the beat of the music.
Twin oak doors with brass handles led to the party inside. Maddie hesitantly pulled on them and stuck her head inside.
Everyone was dressed in an animal costume, shimmying to the Latin beat of Ricky. They looked like the kind of costumes you’d see at a kid’s party. Where was Barney when you needed him? She was a little out of place.
Maddie sniffed the air. Smoke, she smelled smoke, glorious health threatening, death inducing smoke. Looking down at her dress, she figured she’d be pretty out of place without a costume, but the room was darkened and thick with the haze of cigarettes. If she just slipped in unnoticed, she could find a quiet corner to huddle in and light up.
A group of blue squirrels were clustered in a corner, rubbing up against one another.
Odd.
Alrighty, somebody’s had too much to drink…
Hookay, corner number two had a variety of species. A tiger, a squirrel, and a really cute fox. This must be the corner where species discrimination was not tolerated, so maybe they wouldn’t mind an uncostumed mammal joining them. Maddie spied an ashtray on the table next to them. She hunkered down and slid along the wall, making her way to the chairs scattered about.
Her hands shook as she lit up. Taking a deep drag, she glanced at her watch. Hell, it was almost eleven now. She’d miss the Home and Garden channel’s Makeover Madness marathon. Staring down at her feet, she noticed a run in her nylons.
Figured, she was hopelessly screwed, right down to her control top pantyhose.
Maddie jumped. A pair of big, fluffy feet stood parallel to hers. Her eyes traveled upward.
A big, fuzzy bunny. Cripes, he was tall.
But his whiskers were promising. Cute, very cute whiskers. His floppy ears swayed with the nod of his head as he motioned to the chair beside her. He looked like Thumper.
“Uh, hi. Do you mind if I sit down?” Thumper’s voice was muffled by the head of the costume. She could just make out what he said over the music and his bunny suit.
“Er, sure.” Maddie smiled at him, turning her attention to the middle of the dance floor where the electric slide had turned into some dirty dancing. Whoa, this was some kid’s party. She hoped he’d go away. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone a big white bunny with a yellow bow tie. Where was the birthday boy or girl anyway?
“I’m Cole Ashton.”
She fought a groan. He wanted to make small talk.
Oy.
“Madison Blake, Maddie for short.” Now go away, scamper off to the forest and wreak havoc with Mr. McGregor’s lettuce.
“Are you a furry?”
Maddie frowned. A who? Was this like a personal question? Grabbing a sneak peek at her legs, she was relieved to find she’d shaved. She was decidedly not furry.
“Um, no, I don’t think so.”
“Ah, then what brings you here?”
Maddie held up her cigarette. “A smoke. You?” She cringed. Now she was encouraging him to engage in witty repartee she just didn’t have the mindset for.
Thumper/Cole shifted in his seat, tugging at the head of his costume. “Well… I…” He was struggling to form a coherent sentence. Jeez, maybe she should have sat with the squirrels, bet they were better conversationalists. “My friend talked me into it,” he said finally.
“Talked you into coming to a kid’s party?”
“This isn’t a children’s party.”
Maddie leaned into him. “What?”
“I said,” he shouted, “this isn’t a kid’s party.”
Oh.
Halloween was long past and they were well on their way to Christmas.
“Then what is it?” Ooh, she could just slap herself. She just never knew when to shut up. Maddie didn’t want to talk to him, yet she was compelled to forge ahead anyway.
Cole sat forward, resting his forearms on his big, fuzzy thighs. “It’s called a furcon, or fur-swap… or… or something like that.”
Okay, she’d play the game with the nice bunny. He obviously wasn’t going away, and she didn’t want to go back to Corrine and her stuffy friends. “What’s a fur swap?”
Three or four costume-clad people sat at the opposite table scratching one another. Must be itchy in those damn things and hot.
“Um… look, I didn’t come here willingly. My friend talked me into it. He’s over there in the chipmunk costume.” Cole lifted a big paw, pointing in the direction of the far corner of the room.
Looked like Mr. Chipmunk was gettin’ a little muskrat love. He was pressed tightly up against another animal she couldn’t quite identify. Should one really behave this way at a party for a child?
Maddie sat up straight when Cole said, “I think they’re yiffing…”
Tilting her head, she looked Thumper in the eye, his big, glassy blue one. Could he see her? And what the hell was yiffing?
“Yiffing?”
“Look, do you think you could help me out of this damn headpiece, and I’ll explain. I can’t get the stupid thing off. My buddy said it’s some kind of erotic thing these people do. Now please help me get this off?”
The fuck she would. Erotic? These people?
The music had become a slow, sultry ballad. Squirrels and chipmunks and all the little forest creatures of the land were bumping and grinding.
Holy hedgehog hoedown! These people were hooking up!
Time to go.
Maddie rose from her chair quickly, before Thumper had the chance to say anything more, but he stopped her by standing up in front of her, blocking her exit. She stamped out her cigarette in the ashtray.
“Look, bunny man, I don’t know what the hell a fur… swap –” Maddie shook her head, “– meet is and I sure as crap don’t know what yiffing is all about, but I have a funny feeling it isn’t for this girl. So get out of my way, or I’ll call that big, bad wolf over here to kick your bunny ass.”
Yeah. You tell ’em, Maddie.
Cole chuckled. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I won’t hurt you. Cross my widdle bunny heart and hope to die. This place isn’t for me either. I just didn’t know it until I ran into you.”
Maddie couldn’t help it. She began to giggle. “So what’s the matter with you — you don’t like to yiff?”
His wide bunny shoulders shook with laughter. “Um, not dressed like this. Come with me and I’ll take you to my bunny hideaway. I have juicy carrots.”
Laughing again, Maddie figured it couldn’t hurt to follow him out of there, so she trailed a distance behind him. Picking her way through the throng of tigers and assorted wildlife, she scooted out the door.
Jesus, she really needed to give up smoking.

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