Call of the Highland Moon
Read the Excerpt
“Interstate 81, Northbound and Southbound, is currently closed from Syracuse to Watertown as this stalled-out weather system hasn’t budged since last night. Below-zero temps, high winds, and lots and lots of blowing snow are gonna make this a good day to stay in, folks. State Troopers have declared no unnecessary travel…”
Carly groaned softly as she slapped at her alarm clock until she hit pay dirt and the morning radio deejay abruptly shut up. Seven AM, and the wind outside was moaning, making more noise than her little clock-radio could ever have aspired to.
And by some miracle, the power wasn’t out.
Not that it counted as a reason to actually get out of bed or anything.
Staying curled into a tight ball beneath the cozy fluff of her down comforter, she opened one eye just a crack, noted the gray cast of the light only faintly illuminating her small bedroom. Then, going with instincts finely honed after years of living in the North Country, Carly shut it again in preparation for at least two more hours of sleep. It looked like she had her excuse to play hooky. Now all she had to do was sleep late, laze around in her pajamas, relax, and dig into a good book.
Well, and figure out what to do with the abnormally large wolf-dog that might or might not still be sleeping and/or breathing out in the other room.
Carly frowned and burrowed more deeply beneath her covers. It could wait. She didn’t want to think about it right now. Which of course meant that it was all she could think about right now. Not to mention last night. She wasn’t normally prone to nightmares, excepting the occasional oh-my-God-I’m-naked-at-the-mall anxiety dream, but…it seemed like she’d passed the entire night caught in a jumble of hazy, disturbing images. Glowing eyes. Hulking, menacing, inhuman shadows. Some weird, nasty-looking mountains beset with funky violet lightning. And padding through all of it, just ahead of her, had been a giant black wolf, her tour guide on what had seemed like a field trip through Hell.
Naturally, that particular wolf had borne a striking resemblance to a certain something she’d decided to bring home with her. Something that might almost be a full-blooded dog…if you squinted at it hard enough.
Carly bit back a groan at the memories of touching…petting…cooing, for Christ’s sake. Since when had she gotten so damned dumb? Most people would have gotten either Animal Control or a gun. Or both, for that matter. But not her, Carly thought ruefully. Oh no. She looked at blood and claws and teeth the size of a Great White’s and just…
…melted.
She shifted slightly in the old iron bed and sighed gustily. She’s been known to have her moments of stupidity, yes. But last night had been bad, even for her. Bad enough that she’d be lucky if she didn’t end up winning a Darwin award for it, posthumously of course, for dumbest method of proving the theory of natural selection. Had she really imagined that the animal had sought her out specifically? That they’d had some sort of weird connection? God, she must be losing it. It was obviously time to either up her caffeine intake…again…or cut back on her hours. To think she’d been determined to try and pick it up. Carly shuddered slightly, remembering the details of every vicious dog attack she’d ever seen reported on the news.
At least she hadn’t actually done it. Not that coaxing a staggering, bleeding canine train wreck into her car…and then her house…had been any better. He’d followed her willingly, Carly remembered. Determinedly, even. But maybe he hadn’t come to and dragged himself after her because he’d wanted help, she thought with a grimace. Maybe he’d just been hungry. And hadn’t she just recently heard about some pit bull actually eating someone?
But it was too late now, damn it. She’d gotten Barkley the Possibly-Man-Eating Dog settled in front of her nice new gas fireplace on a pile of old blankets. She’d brought home and fussed over an overgrown carnivore of indeterminate appetite, not to mention temperament. And eventually, she was going to have to call either the vet or Animal Control. Or, if things really went to hell, the local SWAT team.
Carly hunkered down further for a good session of stewing. Then a sudden lusty snore from directly behind her had her thoughts scattering to the wailing wind outside. Her eyes flew open, full of disbelief.
Following her home was one thing. But had that massive ripped-up animal actually followed her to bed?
After spending a frozen moment torn between flattered surprise and outright horror, Carly steeled herself and rolled slowly over. What else was left to do? It wasn’t like she could talk him into giving her a break on her snow day. No sudden movements, she reminded herself. Just in case.
Please let him still be friendly, she prayed silently, remembering nothing of big pleading eyes and everything about huge, dagger-sharp teeth. Please let him be…
The thought ended abruptly as Carly got her first look at what had curled up with her in the night. She closed her eyes, hard. Opened them. Tried it again when the first time produced less-than-satisfactory results. But no matter how many times she blinked, it absolutely refused to turn into a dog. And it stubbornly refused to stop being a big, buck naked man.
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