Howl for Me

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To Mom, who fell in love with Charlie’s new miniature daschund. You know you want one. Dad’s going to come home and find you cuddling it, and he’ll be helpless to say no.

To Dad, who doesn’t complain too much when we critique his local wine collection. Yes, it does take the whole bottle for your children to make sure it’s good.

And to Dusty, who thinks I’ll eventually get over my obsession with BioWare games. You poor, deluded man. That’s like saying I’ll eventually get over my unholy love of M&M’s.

Long ago…

“No.”

Odin held up the third set of bonds with what Fenris assumed was supposed to be a guileless smile. Fenris knew better. Odin smelled wrong. He always had and Fenris suspected he always would. “But surely this bond will be the easiest of all to break.”

He’s lying. Odin’s stench had intensified. Fenris eyed the whisper-thin thread Odin proposed to test him with. He’d broken the last two bonds Odin had placed upon him, but he grew weary of the game, and Odin seemed far too pleased with himself.

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