By Beverly Rae
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Extra info for Howling for my Baby
She’d definitely let him take advantage of her. Damn. He is so not the man I want to take advantage of me. A stronger pain stabbed at her side where another purplish bruise already spread across her skin. Or maybe it’s black. Like the black of his hair. She gritted her teeth. Perfect. Just perfect. Even when I hurt I can’t stop thinking about him. She pulled a throw pillow to her mouth and yelled into the plumpness, screaming until her throat hurt. When she’d finished, she tossed the pillow away, her frustration level higher than before.
Had someone finally told the Hollywood big shots that werewolves really did exist? She flipped to another channel where a talking dog spoke to his owner in perfect English. Tell him, boy. Tell him Sally fell down the well. Then tell him bogey monsters are real and hiding in the well, ready to gobble him up. She pffed out her exasperation. Yeah, right. Talking dogs. Yet she couldn’t fault the filmmakers. She’d always been told werewolves could talk, so why not dogs? Maybe the people who’d made the show knew shifters could speak while in wolf form and had assumed dogs could do the same.
Is this the correct address? ” Charlie held the paper with the scribbled address closer to the car’s dome light. “This is frickin’ amazing. We’re out in the middle of the suburbs, searching for some psychic because the resident nutcase at our gym says the medium told her who—or should I say what—her new hubby would be. ” “Hey, she may dress like a clown, but she swears this medium told her about her future husband. She met him after seeing this Madame Medusala person and she’s been prancing around, lording her newly wedded money over everyone ever since.