It's A Deadman Day

Yeah, it's a Deadman's Reach kind of day. This is some stellar coffee (from Raven's Brew, if you're interested.) Organic, full bodied, and just yummy on a 34° day. It's AWESOME outside. Clear and bright and cold. Just the way I like it.

When I realized I'd hadn't posted since last week, I thought I'd share an update. I'm currently working on A Matter of Pride, a Cougar Falls story centered on Dean Chastell, a prankster and cat shifter first introduced in Rachel's Totem, the first of my Cougar Falls books with Samhain.

The story is really fun, and I'm having a blast writing it. That is, I'm having fun writing when I can find the time! Between carting kids to the dentist, volunteering to help with Running Club and math with 6-year olds, my calendar is getting full. Not to mention finishing up the business of buying a house. (What a huge pain.) But the house and the kids are worth it. Now, however, I have an empty house and blissful quiet. No more errands for the rest of the day. Time to get writing!!!

Here's a teaser of my current project, which I don't normally share, but I'm loving this story...

Cougar Falls, Montana

A door upstairs slammed. Swearing, snarls, and spitting hisses pierced the early morning quiet of what promised to be a beautiful summer day. Life in the Pride was never dull, but today looked to be especially interesting.

Whistling, Dean Chastell grabbed a cup of coffee and reveled in the love and gladness just being in the pride afforded.

“Son of a b*tch! I’m going to kick your *ss, Chastell!” Miles Bermin, fellow shapeshifter and current Catamount Ranch guest, had been using the shower upstairs because the water heater in his cabin wasn’t working.

At least, not since Dean had tampered with it.

“Miles?” From upstairs, Burke’s deep voice sounded rusty. “What the hell? It’s not even seven yet.” Great, now Burke would be in a bad mood. Dean’s oldest brother and pride leader wasn’t exactly pleased with him lately. Not after yesterday’s mess with the gray wolves.

The mangy bastards.

Dean decided it might be prudent to leave before he was discovered--and fast--and bumped into one such gray wolf on his way out the back door.

“Where are you off to so early?” Monty GrayClaw, the only wolf in the pride, yawned and stretched as he entered the house. “I thought today was your day off.”

Dean shrugged. “Just thought I’d get in a few--”

Burke’s laughter echoed through the house.“Holy sh*t. Is your hair blue?”

Monty blinked. “Your brother’s up early. This can’t be good. And who’s he talking to?”

“Yeah, it’s blue,” Miles roared. “I have business matters to attend to today, not to mention a date later this evening. And f*cking blue hair?”

Monty’s grin stretched across his lips. “Nice.”

Like Dean, Miles didn’t particularly care for the snotty cats from Miami. They tolerated the females well enough—mostly—but Miles was a huge pain the *ss at the best of times. It didn’t help that the women in town thought he walked on water and could do no wrong.

Dean did his best to look innocent, and failed miserably when Monty started laughing. Loudly.

Footsteps pounded overhead. Miles’s scent drew closer, robust with the heat of rage. Considering the guy had a few inches on Dean, as well as a surprisingly muscular frame under the stupid designer suits he often wore, Dean inched past Monty toward the door.

“I’d hurry if I were you.” Monty nodded for him to go.

Deciding avoidance made sense--because who wanted to fight so early on a gorgeous Friday morning?--Dean slipped outside and into his truck. He turned the key and shifted into reverse when the passenger door opened.

Christ, wasn’t one of them enough to deal with today? He stared in dismay at the most beautiful--and annoying--woman he’d ever had the misfortune to know. “Not now, Stacey. I’m late for work.”

“You have off today.” Miles’s sister just stood there looking finer than fine.

“Come on. I have things to do. Shut the door and move away.”

He inched the truck back. Any second now and Miles would be out the door…

“I need a ride into town.” She glanced behind her at the backdoor and frowned.

Fuming because he had two choices—give in to the princess’s demands or suffer Miles’s wrath, he leaned toward her. “What did you say?”

When she leaned closer to respond, he grabbed her by the collar and yanked her inside. She yelped as she tried to right herself, while he gassed the truck and lurched back just as Miles Bermin tore through the front door of the house dripping wet and wearing nothing more than a towel and blue hair.

Happy Wednesday, and hope you enjoyed an excerpt from A Matter of Pride.