Friday, March 29, 2024

🐰📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🐰: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs by Judi Barrett


Summary:

An imaginative story of amazing food weather that inspired the hit movie, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is a favorite of grown-ups and children everywhere.

The tiny town of Chewandswallow was very much like any other tiny town—except for its weather which came three times a day, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

But it never rained rain and it never snowed snow and it never blew just wind. It rained things like soup and juice. It snowed things like mashed potatoes. And sometimes the wind blew in storms of hamburgers.

Life for the townspeople was delicious until the weather took a turn for the worse. The food got larger and larger and so did the portions. Chewandswallow was plagued by damaging floods and storms of huge food. The town was a mess and the people feared for their lives.

Something had to be done, and in a hurry.

This beloved bestseller is now available for the youngest readers in this Classic Board Book edition!










Aspiring inventor Flint Lockwood is the socially awkward genius behind some of the most bizarre contraptions ever conceived. But even though all of his inventions, from spray-on shoes to a monkey thought translator, have been spectacular failures that caused trouble in his small town, Flint is determined to create something that will make people happy.

Release Date: September 18, 2009
Release Time: 89 minutes

Directors: Phil Lord & Christopher Miller

Cast:
Bill Hader as Flint Lockwood
Max Neuwirth as the young Flint
Anna Faris as Samantha "Sam" Sparks
Neil Patrick Harris as Steve
James Caan as Timothy "Tim" Lockwood
Bruce Campbell as Mayor Shelbourne
Andy Samberg as "Baby" Brent McHale
Mr. T as Officer Earl Devereaux
Bobb'e J. Thompson as Calvin "Cal" Devereaux
Benjamin Bratt as Manny
Al Roker as Patrick Patrickson
Lauren Graham as Fran Lockwood
Will Forte as Joe Towne
Angela V. Shelton as Regina Devereaux

Awards:
67th Golden Globe Awards - January 17, 2010
Best Animated Feature Film - Nominated



Trailer

Clips




Judi Barrett
Judi Barrett is the author of many well-loved books for children, including Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Pickles to Pittsburgh, Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, and Things That Are Most in the World. She teaches art to kindergarten students at a school in her Brooklyn, New York, neighborhood. And she usually doesn't mind going to the dentist!



Ron Barrett(Illustrator)
Ron Barrett is the internationally bestselling illustrator of many books for children, including Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Pickles to Pittsburgh, Superhero Joe, Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, Lots More Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing, and An Excessive Alphabet. His illustrations have been honored by the Society of Illustrators and have been exhibited at The Louvre in Paris. He lives in New York City.


Judi Barrett
Ron Barrett(Illustrator)
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Thursday, March 28, 2024

🐰⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳🐰: The Accidental Baker by Clare London



Summary:

The Accidental Baker #1
Donnie Watson's baking disasters are legendary, but this Easter, his mismatched chocolate eggs bring accidental but astonishing results to four downhearted gay men. The chocolate sweets spill onto the pavement of a small parade of local shops—and go on a matchmaking tour like no other! From a bankrupt and betrayed baker, to a homeless but hopeful man, to a conceited bar owner in need of a reality check, and finally to the hapless but caring Donnie himself.

After all, Love means you can have chocolate too!


Original Review April 2019:
You may be asking yourself how can a short book have four romances that the reader can connect to and bond with?  Well, however she managed it Clare London's The Accidental Baker does exactly that.  This Easter short is fun, sweet, adorable, romantic, with plenty of heart, brought together by misshapen holiday chocolates.

I won't delve into each pairing but I will say that there is something special about each one that makes them not only stand apart but makes them memorable and easily connectable to the reader.  They are just so "everyday", you may not meet people like these guys every day but they certainly could be around every corner, in the house next door, outside the grocery store as you're going in and for me they are people you want to know.

Who knows, if we're real nice maybe Miss London will let us know how the men of The Accidental Baker are and what they are doing for Halloween and Christmas😉😉.

RATING:



Donnie descended the stairs to the front of the building, Henry on his heels. He grabbed the handle of the door out to the street with difficulty, steadying himself against the wall and wriggling the bags of food farther up his arm. “Henry? You could be more helpful. I need to move some stuff in the back of my car to fit all this in.”

“Is that the time?” Henry made a big show of looking at his phone, not that he hadn’t been glued to it all the time he’d been drinking Donnie’s coffee and casting aspersions on Donnie’s baking. “I must be off, sweetheart, I’ll be late for lunch time opening. I can’t trust Debbie and Stuart to clean properly to the back of the shelves, and I have a new guy still on probation behind the bar.”

Henry nudged up behind him, apparently trying to push past Donnie and be first out into the street.

“Henry, back the hell off, will you?”

There was a sudden squash as they jammed shoulders in the narrow doorway. Donnie gave a yelp as he felt the tray of chocolate goodies start to slip from under his arm. “Help!”

“What?”

The tray tilted, stuck at waist level between them as they stood wedged in place. Donnie wriggled, Henry panted and pushed.

“Catch hold of it!” Donnie moaned.

“Catch hold of what?”

Then Henry wrenched his way free, stepped out into the street, and the whole tray fell to the ground with a crash.

“Oh noooo!” Donnie wailed.

“I have to rush, sweetheart.” Henry was backing away, barely looking. Had he even realised what had happened? “You’ll manage!”

Donnie ignored him. He dropped immediately to his knees to survey the damage. A lot of the chocolates had broken—though he wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t that shape to start with—but much worse, oh my fucking God! A handful had bounced out of the tray and were rolling across the pavement towards the shops.

He reached for the nearest escapees. Luckily there were few shoppers around to tread on him or his eggs, but panic tightened his chest. The chocolates weren’t round like tennis balls, so why the hell did they bound away so quickly? The odd shapes seemed to have their own, innate mischief—they rolled erratically, like a rugby ball would bounce at an angle, like a sheet of paper would dart in the wind away from your foot no matter how quickly you stamped. He grabbed for a rabbit that was rolling toward the pedestrian crossing, then at the last minute its trajectory faltered, it wobbled, then set off again at right angles in the direction of the bakery. And Donnie, off balance and in a blind fright, crashed face down onto the pavement, his palm closing over thin air. “Oof!”

“Oh my God. Are you hurt?”

A shadow loomed over him. Had Henry returned to help out? No, the shadow was larger than his friend, and the cologne wasn’t as overpowering. Donnie sat up with an effort. His palms were scraped and bleeding and both his knees hurt. He felt that unique embarrassment of falling like a child when you were actually twenty years past toddler-hood and should have known better. “I’m okay. Sort of, thanks.”

The man who’d spoken hunched down beside him. Yes, definitely not Henry, who would have been flapping about getting dirt on his designer trousers from the ill-swept pavement. “Just sit there for a moment., It’s a shock when you fall. Do you feel dizzy?” He was older than Donnie, stocky and broad shouldered, with silver in his hair, worried eyes, and glasses balanced crookedly on his nose as if he’d bent one of the arms. Donnie did that a lot with sunglasses.

At the corner of Donnie’s eye, silver foil glinted in the morning sunlight.

“Fuck. My eggs!” Now he sounded like a manic chicken. “I’ve got to catch them!”

“Um.” The guy looked somewhere between bemused and scared. “Sure. I mean, let me help you. Do you mean these?” He shifted the fallen tray to Donnie’s side, then looking quickly from side to side, he rescued a chick that had almost rolled into the gutter. “That’s all I can see. I think you caught the rest.”

Donnie did a quick inventory check, which was pretty pointless when he couldn’t remember how many he’d started with. “I don’t know.” He wasn’t going to cry, was he? “They’ll all be broken now.”

“Well. Let’s not panic.” The guy tapped an egg gingerly with the tip of his finger. “This one seems to have got off unscathed.”

And as they both stared, the foil peeled away, a slow, ugly split crawled from its tip to its base, and it broke apart in at least eight pieces.

“Okay. So, not that one, then.”

“None of them! None of them. This is a disaster!” They weren’t much to start with, were they? Sitting on the pavement with his creations all jumbled up in the tray, Donnie could see quite how pathetic the mis-shapes were.

“Hey, don’t worry,” the man said softly. He had one of those nice voices, the ones that could go soft without sounding like he was talking to a baby. “Baking accidents happen.”

Donnie opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again. How did he explain that every fucking baking project he ever did was an accident?

“Thanks anyway.” He had to be brave. After all, kids, we’ll always have the sweet potato frisbees. He struggled his way to his feet. At the last minute, the man caught his arm and helped with a confident, very steady hand. Donnie had rarely felt less like either of those in his life.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea? You should sit still for a while.”

Donnie’s head felt too big and too slow as he shook it. “I have to drive these over to—”

“And definitely not drive straight away. Look, just for a few minutes, until you’ve recovered. You don’t have to go far—I’m your neighbour actually.”

The nice man smiled self-consciously. The skin around his eyes crinkled in a sexy way that gave Donnie more comfort than he’d found all morning. “You’re a hairdresser?” The guy’s hair was cut too severely, hiding most of that attractive grey, and it looked like he’d maybe trimmed his beard in the dark because there was a tiny bald patch on the left side…

The man laughed, loud enough for Donnie to smile in return, and surely, no, definitely too loud for public politeness, according to Henry’s social rules. “No way, I don’t think Emma would have me. I’m the new vet. Surgery doesn’t open until twelve today, so you can sit in the quiet while I look after you.” He blushed, very appealingly. “Sorry, is that too weird? I’m not trying to force myself on you, just wanted to help.”

“No, not weird at all.”

Forcing himself? Far from it. Donnie felt an irresistible urge to be forced upon by this cute man, no problem. He felt slightly dizzy in the face of that blush. Surely you couldn’t get concussion from a blow to the knees?

And he let the man take his hand.





Author Bio:
Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.

She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter-three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.

Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her on all her social media.


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EMAIL: clarelondon11@yahoo.co.uk



The Accidental Baker #1

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Tuesday, March 26, 2024

🐰Blogger Review🐰: Hop On by Kiki Burrelli



Summary:

Welcome to Morningwood #5
An overweight omega puts his life in the hands of a battered and bruised alpha...

Captain Aries did not escape his last mission unscathed. His work with the Elite Force is always dangerous—it’s not easy protecting an entire town of trusting shifters from outside threats—but Aries blames himself for the danger he put his team in. To make certain that will never happen again, he decides to resign after one last mission: to protect a VIP named Arthur on his way to Morningwood. Aries failed as a Captain, he won’t fail as a bodyguard.

Arthur has lived his life alone and on the run. Hiding from his sadistic twin, Arthur keeps a low profile. Overweight and afraid, he cloaks himself in clothes and never engages with shifters, despite being one himself. His evil brother taught him that shifters only bring danger. But when a ruggedly handsome Captain from Morningwood shows up at his house to escort him to the shifter community, for the first time, Arthur wants to believe he could be safe. Arthur isn’t just concerned with himself though. He has his adopted daughter, Harlow, to care for. At two, she should be years away from her first shift, which makes her ability to spontaneously turn into a tiny bunny strange. Not to mention the troubles it causes around bath time.

Aries is drawn to Arthur from the first moment, but who would want a battered alpha like him? He has no right to put a claim on Arthur. Aries knows the single father is perfect just the way he is and deserves perfection in return. But when a rival alpha approaches Arthur and offers him the safe life he craves, will Aries stand back and watch his future family be whisked away?
 
Hop On: Welcome to Morningwood Book Five is a full-length omegaverse romance with equal parts heart, angst, humor, and steam. It can be read as a standalone or in order and has a definite, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it HEA.



At first I had a bit of a difficulty getting into this story which I fully blame on my brain not wanting to let go of the characters from Sack of Gold.  It only took a chapter, maybe a few pages less than to fully be absorbed in Hop On.  As I said in my Sack review recently, I am unfamiliar with this series as a whole and though I found it bit darker than other omegaverse and mpregs from other authors, I couldn't speak to Burrelli's Welcome to Morningwood.  Well, I think there are definitely some more disturbing if not full-on dark elements in Hop, I won't spoil them but just know that my heart hurt, physically hurt, for Arthur and his little girl, Harlow.  How he found the strength to face it as he did, I'm not sure but he did but I don't think Arthur sees himself in full survivor mode which only added to the hurt my heart felt.

As for Aries, well the name is more menacing than the man but don't count this injured Elite Force Captain out, he may be recovering from the mission that took Arthur's evil brother down but he's not as helpless or unlucky to those around him as he thinks he is.  Hop On is only my second read in Morningwood series but I can't think of a better bodyguard to bring Arthur back to recover his brother's belongings and ID him through said belongings.  At first glance they couldn't be more opposite but truth is as we get to know them better they aren't so different in their hopes and fears.

And I can't forget little Harlow.  What a sweetie with such a heartbreaking past but in Arthur she has found a sense of family and love. She has seen too much in her young years but you know that with Arthur and perhaps Aries(I won't spoil anything) she'll never go unloved.

As I stated in the beginning, Hop On definitely has dark and sad elements but they are all prior to the start of the story but they have left a lasting impression so not only do we see the heartache through Arthur's inner thoughts but also the stranglehold they have left on his present.  There is plenty of goodness in this story too, the darkness does not win, does not overshadow, but the author shows how it takes time to overcome those demons. Heartbreaking but also very heartwarming story that lifts you up.  Definitely the perfect second read to continue my want to discover more from this author. 

RATING:



Chapter One
Aries (Captain)
"Fuck, shit, dammit!" I clenched my hands into fists to keep from slamming them against the dashboard. This was a rental, and I didn't think the Elite Force would want to foot the bill for my aggressive outburst. Then again, they wouldn't be getting many more bills from me. Not if this went like I wanted it to.

I sucked in the cool early morning air, taking a moment to breathe through the rage like my appointed therapist had instructed me to do. My jaw ached from the pressure and movement. It felt so tight I wouldn't be surprised if soon it simply snapped in two, right off its hinges, leaving me with a floppy horror movie mouth.

But at least the breathing distracted me from my non-functioning leg. For half a second. I yanked the keys out of the ignition to stop the relentless dinging and grabbed onto the door ledge. Pulling my left half, I negotiated my injured leg out of the car. It had been a long drive from Morningwood to Monterey, and I'd chose to drive straight through, rather than take breaks like my doctor suggested.

I was so close to being rid of Golden Bone, though—and my current life—the idea of stopping, delaying that for even a moment, felt unacceptable. My days with the Elite Force were numbered, and once I transferred Golden Bone's remains to the right person and out of my life, all the other parts of me that had refused to heal would start to do so. They had to.

All I had was this one last task. Captain Stellers was too smart a shifter to take over my team without first making sure the most notorious hitman to ever enter Morningwood was completely taken care of. Golden Bone. The golden retriever shifter hitman who moonlighted as a serial killer was cursing me even in death.

He'd met his end, brutally, but not before leaving a wake of destruction behind him. I was still alive. I was one of the lucky ones. But I wanted my life from before, the one where I could walk and move freely, without pain. The life where I didn't need to see the bottom of a bottle of whiskey to fall asleep and where my muscles didn't twitch at the slightest sound or movement.

Which was why I found myself parking on the side of a quiet street with large, fenced-in homes. Stately oak trees lined the sidewalk, their branches breaking up the bright blue sky that stretched overhead, decorated with large, puffy white cloud formations. This was a road where nothing bad happened. I almost couldn't believe anyone related to Golden Bone could live here. Finding a next of kin had been nearly impossible. Everyone at the station told me to just forget it, to let the hitman's remains rot in the holding storage. But even knowing his ashes were in the same city as me would not do. That, and Stellers wouldn't take over otherwise. He was a dot your i's, cross your t's kind of guy.

I hadn't told my team I was leaving. They'd put on airs, pretend to be surprised or disappointed, but we'd all been waiting for this day. Ever since Golden Bone snapped my leg in two and made me a fool in front of my team.

I shut the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, wincing. Just a few more steps became my personal mantra. The leg wouldn't stop hurting—nothing could make it do that—but it would loosen up. My body would remember after the long drive in one position how to compensate with my other limbs.

Most people would still be bedridden after the injury I'd sustained. A double compound fracture with torn ligaments and tendons on both ends. That was fancy talk for Golden Bone stepped on my leg hard. The bones stuck through my skin, and then he shook them like a dog with a bone. Except—jokes all around—as a golden retriever shifter, he had literally been a dog with a bone.

The break had been bad enough. The torn ligaments on both sides were worse. Even my enhanced shifter healing was having a hard time bringing me back to one hundred percent. I was beginning to think I simply didn't go that high anymore.

"Harlow!" an urgent whisper came from ahead. "Harlow, get back here. No! Don't you—!"

I checked the street address, noting the whispers were coming from behind the fence of the home I was walking toward.

Fear, as jagged as broken glass, lodged into the top of my throat. Was this Golden Bone's next of kin? What sort of person would I find? They were a paranoid sort, proof from the fact that they refused to come to Morningwood alone and would not even entertain the idea of signing for the ashes unless I could personally ensure their safe travel.

If there had been any way to mail the remains, I would have. But the mayor had been adamant that we do things by the books—despite the fact that nothing had been done that way before this point—which meant this person was required to come to Morningwood and personally sign the documents that would transfer ownership.

"If you don't get over here right now, that's it, Harlow. No cookies for lunch. No Peppa!" the voice threatened.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought the person was either a man trying to sound quiet while being loud or a woman who had smoked most of her life. At the thought of smoking, I patted my shirt pocket, relieved by the small cardboard lump I found there.

Quitting the first time had been difficult, but after the attack, those deathsticks were the only thing that kept me sane when the sun was out.

I'd made it to the front gate. The fence was double layered with staggered wrought iron poles that made it very difficult to see inside unless a person stood at the exact right angle. I tried to look in before pressing the intercom button, but all I saw was a bundle of movement. Someone wearing a puffy jacket in the middle of an expansive yard.

On the other side of the fence came a trilling noise. I pressed the intercom again. The noise happened a second time.

"That's—oh no," the voice said. "Harlow! Harlow!" The person on the other side had reached panicked levels.

The Elite Force agent inside of me urged me to remain calm so that the person on the other side would be calm. I guessed I should be impressed that someone could still sound more panicked than I felt. That had to be why I wanted to soothe them. I knew what it was like to feel like you were stuffed into skin too tight that was slowly shrinking even smaller.

"Excuse me," I called out loudly. "I'm on the other side of the fence and can hear you." There was no answer so I kept speaking. "I'm the one you've been corresponding with." Still no answer. "Regarding the remains?" Bile rose up my throat, and I swallowed it down. The taste still lingered, sharp and acidic.

"Yo-you're with the Elite Force?" the voice asked timidly.

"I'd like to discuss that inside if I may." No one who lived on this street was supposed to know the Elite Force existed. Our duty was to keep the unique all-shifter town of Morningwood safe and, most importantly, a secret from non-shifters—normal humans—or as we called them, normies. Golden Bone had landed on the Elite Force's radar by using his shifter abilities to kill people for money. It had been only a matter of time before he would've been caught by the normie FBI and then who knew what secrets he would've told.

He wouldn't be talking now. Or hurting anyone else.

"Are you alone?" the person asked.

"Yes, as you requested." I'd nearly canceled the whole trip when the next of kin had asked that I come by myself. It had felt unnecessarily dangerous, but up until that point in our communication, my contact had simply seemed frightened, but earnest. Now they were standing on the other side of the gate, and I was even more curious about what type of a person this was. A type with a pet—I could assume that much already.

"Do you see the lens on the gate? It's nestled inside the zero in the address plate."

I peered more closely at the gate. Sure enough, inside the zero there was a small camera lens. "I see it."

"Stand exactly four feet back with your body directly in front of the camera. Arms stretched out to your side."

I did as he asked, hoping the additional strain on my leg that standing in that position gave me didn't show on my face. I waited that way for five seconds. Another five, and my left leg began to shake—a precursor to giving out entirely—and then—

"Stand back. The door swings out."

I didn't need to shuffle back, but I did. The door opened, revealing a wide, deep green lawn. Behind the lawn was a sprawling garden with bushes that lined the walk way and so many different kinds of plants I was momentarily awed. A garden this size and vibrancy must've taken a lot of work, dedication, and talent. It managed even to outshine the stately mansion behind it.

Standing to the side, looking utterly out of place with his multiple layers of dark clothing, black cap, and sunglasses stood a man. I could only assume he was my contact. Juxtaposed against the vibrant background, his unassuming presence only piqued my curiosity further.

"Are you Golden Bone's next of kin?" I asked quietly once the gate had closed behind me.

"Golden Bone," the man spat. "That's a dumb name." He spoke with so much hatred, so much vitriol, I didn't think he could be talking to me. "He probably loved it," the man said.

"And you are…?" I prompted, stepping closer. My contact had given me very limited information.

For every step I hobbled closer, he slunk back like a cat toward a mouse. "My name is Arthur. You already know I'm related to the d-deceased so I don't see why I need to give you any more information."

True. The task of finding someone related to Golden Bone had been difficult. From what we knew of him, he came from an affluent shifter family that did not grow up in any of the more common shifter towns. No place was quite as secure as Morningwood, but Dix Wallow was another popular shifter town, as well as a few others.

Golden Bone had never wanted for money—hadn't even needed the fees he'd collected while working as a hitman. While that fact had narrowed the list, it hadn't pointed toward any place or family in particular. After a while, I'd focused only on the rich families that weren't answering my calls.

Eventually, I'd crossed every name off my list except for an old number for a home in Connecticut. I'd spoken to an elderly woman who had given me a forwarding address which had led to another vacant house with another number to call that turned up an old email address, and the rest was history. And honestly, even if Arthur wasn't Golden Bone's next of kin, if he could just pretend long enough to take the ashes away, I'd be fine. I'd done my job and could wash my hands clean of the situation. Finally.

"My name is Captain Aries Canis. I am—"

"Your actual name is Captain?" Arthur asked.

"No. I am a Captain. I command a team. I'm in the Elite Force. We protect our town from outsiders. It's all very important work…" Why couldn't I shut up? And I wasn't going to be a captain for much longer anyway. "You know what, forget the captain part, just call me Aries."

"Hmm, Aries," Arthur repeated. He brought his hand up to the top button of his shirt. I spotted at least two other layers beneath that one. He worried at the button. "God of war or astrological?" he asked, and something about his tone made me wish I could see his eyes more clearly.

"Astrological," I replied.

"Hm," Arthur replied.

That single noncommittal noise filled me with so many questions. Who was this man, really? What was his connection to Golden Bone? Even with the glasses on and a pale beard covering some of his face, I could make out his tense, fearful expression. He wore clothes like they were a suit of armor, as if he could put on enough dark layers to protect himself. But from what? I let my eyes travel over his body. There wasn't much I could make out, not through the jacket, button up and undershirts. He was an average height, but stockier than most shifters, and I would've wagered that a luscious ass lurked beneath those slacks.

I cleared my throat. I'll take inappropriate musings for a thousand.

"Were you looking for something?" I asked. "When I walked up?"

"Oh! Shi-oot!" He spun from me, inching toward a large oak tree in the corner of his yard. It was so large, I'd seen the branches hanging over the fence from the other side. "Harlow!" he shouted, running to the trunk and looking up into the branches above. "Stay there. Don't move. I'll get the ladder, and…"

I walked up behind him, peering up as well. There, nestled among the branches, was a tiny bunny with fur made of every shade of brown. Its miniscule ears stuck straight up on either side of its head. The animal couldn't have been very old at all and looked down at us with black, unblinking eyes.

"Your pet?" I asked.

Arthur gave me a double take, and I couldn't tell if he was more shocked by my sudden presence beside him or the bunny stuck in the tree.

"I've heard that they aren't great climbers but can climb. He should make his way back down."

"She's a she," Arthur replied. What I could see of his face had lost a considerable amount of color.

If this was freaking him out so much, I didn't see why I should let it continue. I reached for the tree. The bunny squeaked as Arthur snagged my arm. His fingers felt hot and pressed firmly into my skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to get your pet. You want her right?"

He pulled me back, letting me know that while his voice and mannerisms seemed timid, he was strong. "I'll do it," he said uncertainly. "She'll just hide from you."

I stepped back. I wasn't going to fight this, I'd just wanted to help Arthur relax a little, and he'd seemed unable to do that with his pet in the tree.

He took a deep breath and started to climb. I could see immediately that, like bunnies, he also wasn't much of a climber. He reached for a branch, and when I saw he meant for it to hold his weight, I stepped forward, opening my mouth in warning.

The branch snapped before I got a sound out. Arthur fell back. I caught him but wasn't prepared for the sudden change in weight, and my left leg gave out from under me, causing us both to tumble to the ground. Thankfully, I was able to turn my upper half to absorb the bulk of the force, but Arthur scrambled like I had my arms around him to kidnap him. He ripped his body from my embrace so quickly it knocked his sunglasses of his face.

At least now I'd be able to see—

The same eyes that had been haunting me for weeks.

"Golden Bone," I hissed, my hand going to my waist. I didn't know if I was reaching for a weapon or my radio, but neither was attached to my belt. One blink later and I was back to that night from my nightmares, frozen cold, hunched over Malcolm Amari's dining room table, paralyzed from the drug Golden Bone had slipped us. "You—you're dead." I still sounded like a tire quickly losing air.

Arthur pulled his hat off, revealing a head of golden locks, the exact shade of Golden Bone's but not near as long. "I'm not him. Though I can tell by your reaction he's hurt you too. His name isn't Golden Bone either. It's Artemis. He was my brother. My twin brother."

"Twin?" I echoed.

Arthur's face twisted into a scowl. "Give or take a hundred pounds." He gave a short, humorless laugh.

All that told me was that Arthur had seen Golden Bone before his demise. And not many people alive could say that. "Did you know about what he was doing?" I asked sharply. Even if he didn't take part, knowledge of his brother's crimes should put him in prison for a long time.

"Of course I did," he snapped, but he sounded more tired than angry. "I always found out, after. Always after. Do you think I would've let him get away with anything if I'd known before?"

I was going to reply that I didn't know him so I didn't know what he was capable of when I noticed a brown shape soaring through the air.

Arthur also noticed a split second after me. He shouted, "Harlow!" and reached for the runaway bunny.

Using my good leg, I hopped up, managing to pluck the tiny creature from it's trajectory before it slammed into the ground.

Arthur shouted again, like I'd done the wrong thing.

I turned to tell him I was just worried about the thing breaking its leg when I felt it move and wriggle in my hands. I looked down, watching the bunny morph from a furry baby animal to a child that couldn't be older than two. She continued to shift, back and forth from bunny to child. I recognized the response. It wasn't all that uncommon in shifters during periods of heightened stress. Particularly immature or juvenile shifters. What was odd, however, was that this shifter was nowhere near puberty, which was the generally accepted age when shifters were first able to transform into their animal counterparts. Some were able to a little earlier, but earlier by months, not by eight years.

Arthur snatched the child from me, cradling her to his chest. She relaxed immediately. Her shifts grew less frequent until she gave a tiny sigh and settled into her human form.

I stared at the odd pair. One the twin brother of a devious hitman and the other a child with abilities that shouldn't be possible. "What the hell is going on here?"






Kiki Burrelli
Kiki Burrelli lives in the Pacific Northwest with the bears and raccoons. She dreams of owning a pack of goats that she can cuddle and dress in form-fitting sweaters. Kiki loves writing and reading and is always chasing that next character that will make her insides shiver. Consider getting to know Kiki at her website, on Facebook, or send her an email: kikiburrelli@gmail.com.


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