Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Excerptfest 2012: A Tale of Fur and Flesh

Since it's October and all, I guess a shapeshifter fairy tale excerpt is in order:

Princess Lally was a happy child until her mother’s untimely death. It was then her devastated and distraught father locked himself away, leaving Lally to grow into adulthood without parents to care for her. When the King finally emerges after ten years, he is no longer the man Lally remembers from the halcyon days of youth. He has descended into lunacy, and is intent upon marrying his daughter.

Lally’s joy at her father’s return quickly becomes rage, and she takes refuge in the darker realms of her personality, surrounded by a forest of shape-shifting creatures. Disguised as a peasant girl under layers of furs, she seeks shelter and protection in the land of the good King Aelwyn. Will Lally remain in the dark world of the shapeshifters and succumb to the same madness that has overtaken her father, or will she find relief from her suffering in the one man who treats her with kindness?


“You make my blood boil, you filthy dog!” Lally cried. His insults evoked in her the same feelings Offal’s had, long before she knew he was good at heart. Picking a rock off the ground, she launched it at Wolf. He evaded the stone and it struck the oak tree behind him.

Allerleirauh braced herself for a stormy reaction, but the creature said nothing. He did nothing. His violent gaze pierced her like an arrow through her heart. Then a threatening smile crept across his face as he revealed sharp canine teeth. She felt naked before this rough beast. No other creature had rendered her so bare, so fragile. Could Wolf smell her anticipatory juices?

The forest floor trembled under the creature’s forward steps. His voice was hot and rough. It was the sound of friction. “Nah, I’m no dog, lass. Ye know well I’m a wolf. And ye? Ye’re a good-for-nothing hoor. Even yer old da wanted a piece of ye.”

Lally tasted bile at the mention of her demented father. It wasn’t her fault! How dare he? Her heart pumped with fury as she rushed the wolf-man, not knowing what she might do next. Strike him? Kick him? But no. What was she doing? Plunging her tongue into his hot mouth! Wolf caught her in his lean arms when she leapt at him. Holding her aloft, he returned her thirsty kisses. Even his mouth was strong.

Breaking from the desperate kiss, he dipped Allerleirauh back. Blood flowed to her brain, making her dizzy as Wolf ravaged the breasts peeking out from under black snakeskin. He bit her tits. He sucked her tender nipples so hard they stung. He could do anything to her. She was his dinner. Wolf ran his rough tongue the length of her chest and up her neck, leaving traces of hot moisture in his wake. Again and again he lapped her skin. What strength in his arms, that he could he support her. The power she perceived in his body made her muscles limp.

When Wolf raised her to his lips, the collection of blood in her head rushed straight to her cunt. A tremble shot through her core. Grabbing his silver mane, she kissed the beast unrelentingly. “You will help with my mantle, you dirty dog,” she disparaged him. “You harmful beast, you callous brute!” This would be their game.

“Aye, I’ll help ye, trollymog,” Wolf replied, abruptly releasing his grip on her. When Lally tumbled down to earth, he continued their match of denigration. Grabbing her by the waist, he inverted his princess-cum-whore. “Turn yer belly to the ground, wee strumpet. I cannot bear to look upon yer bawdy face.”


Scottish werewolves... am I right?

A Tale of Fur and Flesh is available from eXcessica Publishing:

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