Only In My Dreams

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To Mom and Dad, who probably shouldn’t ask me about the menthol thing.

To Dusty, who agrees to try some crazy things with me even when he’s skeptical. I’m sorry for that whole menthol thing, but I still think I suffered way more than you.

To the fans of the Pumas, I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. And don’t worry, I’m not done with my shifters yet…

And to those who want to know, no, I will never tell the menthol story. Just mentioning it makes Dusty curl up in a ball and whimper.

November

“Who the fuck are you?” Gabriel Anderson, sheriff of Halle Pennsylvania, and Marshal’s Second of the Halle Puma Pride, was one tired, cranky kitty. He stared at the stranger sitting in his living room and tried to remind himself that jail was a bad place for a cop to wind up in. The intruder had his feet up on Gabe’s coffee table, his cowboy boots twitching in time to the video game he was playing on Gabe’s Wii. Gabe kept his service revolver steady, the safety off, aimed at the intruder. To top it all off the man smelled like a shifter. “Because I like to know who the hell I’m arresting for breaking and entering.”

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