This serial, first published on the K.A. Merikan PATREON, focuses on Jack Addison, a young venator aka monster hunter, who learns about compassion, love, and the flexibility of his sexuality during exploits all over the globe.
📢POSSIBLE SPOILERS:📢
Themes: pride, dreams, self-discovery, tolerance, fame, monster hunting, interspecies relations
Genre: M/M romantic erotica, horror-comedy
Erotic content: Scorching hot, explicit scenes
💥WARNING: This story contains morally ambiguous characters and scenes of sex that might be considered taboo.💥
Summary:
“Please write down my name. Jack Addison.”
Jack Addison. Son of a famous monster hunter. Grandson of a celebrated inventor. He has a lot to live up to, but his ego is as big as the expectations of his family. At just nineteen, he’s fresh out of a prestigious academy, set to make a name for himself in a world where people need protection from strange and dangerous creatures.
During the annual hunt for the Loch Ness monster, Jack finds a rival in Roux Chat-Bonnes, a cat-like being who recently joined the same profession and is set to steal the bounty—and fame—from under Jack’s nose.
Jack won’t let that happen. He sets out on the hunt alone, but the creature that he finds in the cave near Loch Ness doesn’t have tentacles. Instead, it’s got hairy legs, eight black eyes and a taste for human flesh.
Summary:
“I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to slay Nessie.”
Jack Addison is on his way to becoming a famous monster hunter, but luck had been against him at the Annual Nessie Hunt the previous year. Now, he’s back at Loch Ness to show everyone what he’s made of.
He’s got a lot to prove to Roux Chat-Bonnes, the snotty cat-like creature who saved his life last time, so Jack goes into the woods to hunt Nessie armed with a brand new detection device.
But the creature he finds is nothing like he expected. Where he thought he would slay a monster, he ends up learning a valuable lesson about opening his horizons to new lifeforms. The learning curve is made delightful with the help of tentacles, suckers, and lots of slippery slime.
I just want to say right away that this won't be a long review or even very in-depth as far as the plot as this is an ongoing short story serial and I don't really want to give anything away. However, I do want to express just how much I absolutely and completely LOVE it! This first came to my attention around Thanksgiving time but I was already neck-deep in holiday reads so I set it aside to read later and now "later" arrived😉 and boy am I glad it didn't get lost in my always growing TBR list because . . . well just WOW!
Jack Addison wants to make a name for himself by capturing Nessie AKA the Loch Ness Monster but his eagerness gets him into a bit of a pickle that is equally intriguing and disturbing. Fun, oddly erotic, incredibly different, and attention-grabbing from the start Jack Addison vs Man-Ravishing Spider is probably not for everyone but if you already love the workings of KA Merikan than this is a must and if you like "out there" entertainment than this is also a must. Just be sure to go in with an open mind because as I said it is definitely "out there".
Jack Addison vs. Nessie's Tentacles #2
What can I say about Jack Addison vs. Nessie's Tentacles that I didn't say in Man-Ravishing Spider? Probably nothing. Once again you need to be open to the weirdness factor, the intriguing yet oddly erotic nature, and Jack's overall bad(or good depending on your take of the scenario) luck. I will add that the author's ability to set a scene and to make the "out there" real is what really makes Jack Addison vs A Whole World of Hot Trouble series a winner. I don't know how many are planned for this series but I know I'll be reading every single one.
RATING:
Jack Addison vs. Mad-Ravishing Spider #1
The damp cold soaked into Jack’s clothes, biting his skin as he walked down the path spiraling between the trees. The coachman who had brought him here from the nearest train station had told him that all the other venators had already arrived at Loch Ness, but Jack wouldn’t let that stop him from kick-starting his monster-hunting career with the most prestigious event worldwide.
So he might have boarded the ship for Europe a little bit too late. Big deal—what counted was that Halloween lasted for another twelve hours, which was more than enough time to collect the bounty for Nessie’s head and become another bright star in the Addison family tree.
As he followed the winding track, his feet gradually sank into the clouds of vapor that obscured the undergrowth. The loch itself, visible in the dying sunlight, was also partially hidden by the thick fog, providing cover for the monster that only left the depths once a year.
The sound of music and voices ahead gradually became louder when Jack neared the shore, and the cheerfulness of it all started to drill its way under his skin. Could it be that someone already had got the bounty? Was he too late after all? But when Jack left the trees behind and saw the large inn by the dark waters of the lake, there was no carcass in sight—only empty carts, cages, and human silhouettes in lit windows.
He sped up, eager to step into warmth. He hadn’t thought his outfit through all that well, and the short leather jacket meant that the wind kept licking his back through the shirt. Then again, life was meant for living, not dreading a pinch of cold. Most importantly, he had his pistols, his family sword, and the latest Addison device, which would give him an advantage over other venators and lead him to the hell hole Nessie had crawled out from.
He pushed the door of the Monster’s Head open and stepped inside. He didn’t expect the Scottish to recognize him, since he’d lived in New York most of his life, but he was sure there was no venator alive who wouldn’t recognize his last name. After all, the device they all carried had been named after its inventor, Jack’s late grandmother.
The music he’d heard on the way came from a gramophone in the corner, but a large contingent of the people gathered sang to the lively melody while sampling beer, as if this was an opportunity for socializing, not the annual hunt for the Loch Ness monster. Almost fifty years since its first appearance, Nessie had only been captured by photography and sketches, and there was no way to predict where exactly it would appear this time, but Jack was still disillusioned by the behavior he was witnessing.
Was no one even trying to stay in adequate shape for tonight’s hunt?
And worst of all, with the commotion, hardly anyone noticed his presence. Quite tall and muscular, despite being just nineteen, he had the kind of charm that drew the attention of women and men alike. To top it all off, his wide smile full of even, white teeth, sunshine hair, and blue eyes in a lightly tanned handsome face ensured that even without his last name being mentioned, he never drank his beer alone.
The inn was filled mostly with other venators—something Jack could recognize by the emblems sewn on their clothing, but they all ate and drank in groups, talking in many languages he did not recognize.
“Hello, love. If you need someplace to sleep, we only have hay mattresses left,” said a busty blonde woman with a thick Scottish accent. She approached him out of nowhere, dressed in civilian clothes and wearing a dress with a neckline slightly deeper than propriety would normally allow, she was likely a member of staff.
“What? You don’t have rooms available? But the nearest town is an hour away!”
She sighed and patted his chest. “You must be new to this. There’s only so much space available at the inn. I could accept a down payment for next year. Many choose to sleep in the barn.”
Ha! Next year. There would be no hunt next year, because Jack Addison would catch and behead Nessie tonight. Especially since everyone else seemed to only be there for a good time over beers and whiskey.
This conversation did seem like a good opportunity to drop his name though. “Yes, please write down my name. Jack Addison.”
No reaction, just a smile. How demotivating. But a man sitting by the nearby bar gave Jack a curious look and poked two of his friends, both of whom were also venators.
“Addison? Like ‘The Kraken’ Addison?” the guy asked in a polite accent that sounded exactly like Jack’s only English professor at the American Institute of Interdimensional Studies.
Pride swelled in Jack’s chest, and he approached the men with a smile. “I am his son.”
The Englishman squeezed Jack’s hand. “Hector Collins. And these are my former schoolmates, William Tucker and Drake Nguyen.”
William tapped the bar counter, trying to draw the attention of the pretty young barman who had so many orders to complete that his cheeks were glistening and rosy despite the cold. “What are you drinking, Addison?”
Jack licked his lips, sliding his gaze off the barman’s neck and to his new friends. “Oh, I’ll have coffee.”
All three English men laughed to the point of slapping their knees.
“Good one, Addison. Keeping your wits about you, eh?” asked Drake.
Hector gaped and touched the thick handle of Jack’s two-handed sword. “Is this… is this the sword that ripped open the Kraken?”
Jack smirked and reached back, pulling Gouger out of the sheath on his back. “The very same. You can touch it, but be careful, it’s extremely sharp.”
“Can I have some butter, please?” someone asked in a strong French accent behind Jack’s back, and he wouldn’t have paid it any mind, if it wasn’t for seeing his new friends exchange curious glances.
What could be more interesting than the legendary Gouger? Jack wanted to sneak a peek at the guy, but once he looked over his shoulder, everything else was forgotten. He put the sword back into the sheath.
A chat. A real-life chat!
He’d read about them in the first Monster Manual written by his dad. The textbook had since been redacted to call them ‘creatures’, but that didn’t really change what these non-humans were.
About Jack’s height, but much more slender, even in the long leather jacket, the chat was ginger with a few white stripes on his head. The massive ears that twitched in attention hid white tufts that would have been cute on a normal cat, not this man-sized critter. His paws were white, as if he were wearing gloves. A ridiculous notion for a creature that was more animal than human. Did the fluffy fingers really hide killer claws?
Jack Addison vs. Nessie's Tentacles #2
Jack picked up two of the gin cups, and slowly approached the group of Frenchmen. Roux sat on the periphery, leaning toward the oil heater with his paw-feet close to the flame burning behind the grate. He’d replaced his coat with a fluffy turtleneck sweater that had a collar reaching all the way to the base of his head.
Could he smell Jack? Because he hadn’t turned around, but still put his paw on the rapier attached to his belt. Jack sighed, entranced by the way the warm light played in the red fur.
“I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon,” he said in the end.
Roux took a deep breath and turned his huge green eyes on Jack. Was he smaller? Or did Jack gaining a few inches in this past year account for the difference? The chat’s ears were up and attentive.
“Yes. Too soon.”
Jack shook his head and sat on the edge of the bench next to him. The chat didn’t move an inch, which left little room for Jack, but he wouldn’t let that bother him and rested his arm against Roux’s. Some of the red fur stuck out through the knit and tickled Jack’s bare skin.
“I’m sorry I called you a pussycat. I literally just found out that it’s a slur.”
Roux’s nose wrinkled. “No need to talk about it.”
Jack licked his lips “You seemed pretty upset,” he said, and tapped his scars.
Roux’s ears twitched time and time again, and some of the fur on his head bristled. “You said it yourself. It’s a slur.”
“Yes, but it’s for chats. Most people don’t know.” Jack tried smiling at Roux. In vain.
The feline face remained unmoved. “Do you want something?”
Jack cleared his throat and discreetly glanced at his friends before focusing on Roux. “How have you been?”
The huge green eyes squinted. They were pretty amazing, even if freaky. Roux actually had eyelashes. Very faint, but they were there. “What are you trying here, Addison?”
Jack rolled his eyes, frustrated by the standoffish behavior. He didn’t encounter this very often. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Can’t a man talk to you?”
“Last time we met you called me Mr. Paws. Excuse me for being apprehensive about your intentions.”
“A lot has changed in the last year. You’re not gonna make any friends if you keep grudges forever.”
Roux’s whiskers twitched from side to side. “I’m not here to make friends, Addison. I’m here to slay Nessie. Which I couldn’t do last year because I had to save your sorry ass.”
Jack frowned, increasingly agitated. “Oh, so you’re in it only for the fame? You don’t care about saving people? Or is it just me that you don’t care about?”
“I think I’ve proved I care about saving people last year.” Roux’s face was hard to read. Furry all over and just… different, it didn’t show emotion in the same ways human faces did. “Nessie is yet another threat to the world. It’s said the creature is massive. Most of all, the crack between dimensions hasn’t been closed, and if Nessie got through, then something much worse might, too.”
“I hear it might be opened and closed by Nessie every time. Science says that,” Jack quickly repeated what he’d heard just moments ago.
“Science hasn’t been very effective in tracking Nessie down so far.”
Pride swelled in Jack’s chest, and he pulled up one side of his jacket, revealing the small oval device his older sister had invented recently. He was the first one to ever test it in the field. “Maybe it will this year.” He was excited to see that he had caught Roux’s attention.
“What are you saying? What is it?” The chat reached out, but caught himself halfway through the movement.
Jack smirked. “Go on, you can touch it. It’s a prototype my sister made. It can track Nessie’s cries, even those too quiet for the human ear.”
Roux’s tongue made a split-second movement all the way up to his nose. “Thanks, I’ll be fine with my own two ears. We can’t all have the advantages of wealth and fame.”
“Maybe you should just be happy you saved Jack Addison, so he can do great things in the future.”
Roux’s jaw dropped, revealing a tongue with tiny nubs on it. “You should be happy you’re not baby tarantoid feed. You haven’t even thanked me for that. I could have left you there.”
Jack let out a long exhale. “That’s why I came over, but you can’t be civil like a normal person.”
“At least I’m a person to you now,” Roux grumbled. His body language was so tense just looking at it made Jack tired and stiff. “I accept your gratitude.”
Jack cleared his throat and offered Roux one of the cups. “How does that tongue feel?” Did chats give each other oral sex with them?
Roux took the cup in both paws, and Jack itched to touch their pads and check if they felt soft. “Huh? What do you mean?” His ears laid a bit flatter, and it had to be the cutest thing Jack had ever seen.
If they had been alone, he might have attempted to scratch them, but they were not alone, and he didn’t want some weird gossip reaching his close friends and family. “I mean, your tongue has those nubs. Do they feel like a cat’s or is it smooth, like mine?” he asked and tapped his bottom front teeth with one finger.
It was ridiculous how apprehensive Roux seemed, as if he believed Jack was about to pounce on him or something. In the end though, he stuck out his tongue, letting Jack look at it in detail before speaking again.
“Like a cat’s. But not to scale, if that makes sense. If a cat was my size, the hooks on his tongue would be massive.” Behind them, Roux’s tail started slowly swaying in the air, and Jack found himself fantasizing about it discreetly making its way under the back of his shirt.
“So they’re actually sharp? Would it hurt if you licked me?” Jack asked, oddly excited about this conversation. He was on a roll!
Roux moved an inch away, and Jack had to stop himself from catching Roux’s tail. Civil. He was supposed to be civil.
“Why would I lick you?”
Jack raised his hand. “It was a figure of speech. I mean… unless you are… interested in human males? I’ve seen this erotic picture with chats, and they were licking each other,” he said, suddenly acutely aware of every single twitch of the pretty white whiskers.
Roux’s ears went flat once more, his eyes widened and he rose so fast some of his drink spilled to the wooden floor. “What are you insinuating?”
Jack just followed his instinct, grabbing Roux’s paw and pulling him back down. It was soft. Like a baby kitten’s. Roux didn’t walk on those pads, so they hadn’t hardened the way his feet surely had. But despite the distraction, Jack focused on Roux’s eyes, on the fluffy mouth, and his pink nose. “It’s academic curiosity, but if that means anything to you, I am into males. You know, like a pussycat,” he said in a low voice, and winked.
Roux didn’t even blink. In the dim light, his pupils were huge, breathtaking. He pulled his paw away when he noticed Jack was still holding it, but there was not a claw in sight. “Don’t say that word.”
The damp cold soaked into Jack’s clothes, biting his skin as he walked down the path spiraling between the trees. The coachman who had brought him here from the nearest train station had told him that all the other venators had already arrived at Loch Ness, but Jack wouldn’t let that stop him from kick-starting his monster-hunting career with the most prestigious event worldwide.
So he might have boarded the ship for Europe a little bit too late. Big deal—what counted was that Halloween lasted for another twelve hours, which was more than enough time to collect the bounty for Nessie’s head and become another bright star in the Addison family tree.
As he followed the winding track, his feet gradually sank into the clouds of vapor that obscured the undergrowth. The loch itself, visible in the dying sunlight, was also partially hidden by the thick fog, providing cover for the monster that only left the depths once a year.
The sound of music and voices ahead gradually became louder when Jack neared the shore, and the cheerfulness of it all started to drill its way under his skin. Could it be that someone already had got the bounty? Was he too late after all? But when Jack left the trees behind and saw the large inn by the dark waters of the lake, there was no carcass in sight—only empty carts, cages, and human silhouettes in lit windows.
He sped up, eager to step into warmth. He hadn’t thought his outfit through all that well, and the short leather jacket meant that the wind kept licking his back through the shirt. Then again, life was meant for living, not dreading a pinch of cold. Most importantly, he had his pistols, his family sword, and the latest Addison device, which would give him an advantage over other venators and lead him to the hell hole Nessie had crawled out from.
He pushed the door of the Monster’s Head open and stepped inside. He didn’t expect the Scottish to recognize him, since he’d lived in New York most of his life, but he was sure there was no venator alive who wouldn’t recognize his last name. After all, the device they all carried had been named after its inventor, Jack’s late grandmother.
The music he’d heard on the way came from a gramophone in the corner, but a large contingent of the people gathered sang to the lively melody while sampling beer, as if this was an opportunity for socializing, not the annual hunt for the Loch Ness monster. Almost fifty years since its first appearance, Nessie had only been captured by photography and sketches, and there was no way to predict where exactly it would appear this time, but Jack was still disillusioned by the behavior he was witnessing.
Was no one even trying to stay in adequate shape for tonight’s hunt?
And worst of all, with the commotion, hardly anyone noticed his presence. Quite tall and muscular, despite being just nineteen, he had the kind of charm that drew the attention of women and men alike. To top it all off, his wide smile full of even, white teeth, sunshine hair, and blue eyes in a lightly tanned handsome face ensured that even without his last name being mentioned, he never drank his beer alone.
The inn was filled mostly with other venators—something Jack could recognize by the emblems sewn on their clothing, but they all ate and drank in groups, talking in many languages he did not recognize.
“Hello, love. If you need someplace to sleep, we only have hay mattresses left,” said a busty blonde woman with a thick Scottish accent. She approached him out of nowhere, dressed in civilian clothes and wearing a dress with a neckline slightly deeper than propriety would normally allow, she was likely a member of staff.
“What? You don’t have rooms available? But the nearest town is an hour away!”
She sighed and patted his chest. “You must be new to this. There’s only so much space available at the inn. I could accept a down payment for next year. Many choose to sleep in the barn.”
Ha! Next year. There would be no hunt next year, because Jack Addison would catch and behead Nessie tonight. Especially since everyone else seemed to only be there for a good time over beers and whiskey.
This conversation did seem like a good opportunity to drop his name though. “Yes, please write down my name. Jack Addison.”
No reaction, just a smile. How demotivating. But a man sitting by the nearby bar gave Jack a curious look and poked two of his friends, both of whom were also venators.
“Addison? Like ‘The Kraken’ Addison?” the guy asked in a polite accent that sounded exactly like Jack’s only English professor at the American Institute of Interdimensional Studies.
Pride swelled in Jack’s chest, and he approached the men with a smile. “I am his son.”
The Englishman squeezed Jack’s hand. “Hector Collins. And these are my former schoolmates, William Tucker and Drake Nguyen.”
William tapped the bar counter, trying to draw the attention of the pretty young barman who had so many orders to complete that his cheeks were glistening and rosy despite the cold. “What are you drinking, Addison?”
Jack licked his lips, sliding his gaze off the barman’s neck and to his new friends. “Oh, I’ll have coffee.”
All three English men laughed to the point of slapping their knees.
“Good one, Addison. Keeping your wits about you, eh?” asked Drake.
Hector gaped and touched the thick handle of Jack’s two-handed sword. “Is this… is this the sword that ripped open the Kraken?”
Jack smirked and reached back, pulling Gouger out of the sheath on his back. “The very same. You can touch it, but be careful, it’s extremely sharp.”
“Can I have some butter, please?” someone asked in a strong French accent behind Jack’s back, and he wouldn’t have paid it any mind, if it wasn’t for seeing his new friends exchange curious glances.
What could be more interesting than the legendary Gouger? Jack wanted to sneak a peek at the guy, but once he looked over his shoulder, everything else was forgotten. He put the sword back into the sheath.
A chat. A real-life chat!
He’d read about them in the first Monster Manual written by his dad. The textbook had since been redacted to call them ‘creatures’, but that didn’t really change what these non-humans were.
About Jack’s height, but much more slender, even in the long leather jacket, the chat was ginger with a few white stripes on his head. The massive ears that twitched in attention hid white tufts that would have been cute on a normal cat, not this man-sized critter. His paws were white, as if he were wearing gloves. A ridiculous notion for a creature that was more animal than human. Did the fluffy fingers really hide killer claws?
Jack Addison vs. Nessie's Tentacles #2
Jack picked up two of the gin cups, and slowly approached the group of Frenchmen. Roux sat on the periphery, leaning toward the oil heater with his paw-feet close to the flame burning behind the grate. He’d replaced his coat with a fluffy turtleneck sweater that had a collar reaching all the way to the base of his head.
Could he smell Jack? Because he hadn’t turned around, but still put his paw on the rapier attached to his belt. Jack sighed, entranced by the way the warm light played in the red fur.
“I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon,” he said in the end.
Roux took a deep breath and turned his huge green eyes on Jack. Was he smaller? Or did Jack gaining a few inches in this past year account for the difference? The chat’s ears were up and attentive.
“Yes. Too soon.”
Jack shook his head and sat on the edge of the bench next to him. The chat didn’t move an inch, which left little room for Jack, but he wouldn’t let that bother him and rested his arm against Roux’s. Some of the red fur stuck out through the knit and tickled Jack’s bare skin.
“I’m sorry I called you a pussycat. I literally just found out that it’s a slur.”
Roux’s nose wrinkled. “No need to talk about it.”
Jack licked his lips “You seemed pretty upset,” he said, and tapped his scars.
Roux’s ears twitched time and time again, and some of the fur on his head bristled. “You said it yourself. It’s a slur.”
“Yes, but it’s for chats. Most people don’t know.” Jack tried smiling at Roux. In vain.
The feline face remained unmoved. “Do you want something?”
Jack cleared his throat and discreetly glanced at his friends before focusing on Roux. “How have you been?”
The huge green eyes squinted. They were pretty amazing, even if freaky. Roux actually had eyelashes. Very faint, but they were there. “What are you trying here, Addison?”
Jack rolled his eyes, frustrated by the standoffish behavior. He didn’t encounter this very often. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Can’t a man talk to you?”
“Last time we met you called me Mr. Paws. Excuse me for being apprehensive about your intentions.”
“A lot has changed in the last year. You’re not gonna make any friends if you keep grudges forever.”
Roux’s whiskers twitched from side to side. “I’m not here to make friends, Addison. I’m here to slay Nessie. Which I couldn’t do last year because I had to save your sorry ass.”
Jack frowned, increasingly agitated. “Oh, so you’re in it only for the fame? You don’t care about saving people? Or is it just me that you don’t care about?”
“I think I’ve proved I care about saving people last year.” Roux’s face was hard to read. Furry all over and just… different, it didn’t show emotion in the same ways human faces did. “Nessie is yet another threat to the world. It’s said the creature is massive. Most of all, the crack between dimensions hasn’t been closed, and if Nessie got through, then something much worse might, too.”
“I hear it might be opened and closed by Nessie every time. Science says that,” Jack quickly repeated what he’d heard just moments ago.
“Science hasn’t been very effective in tracking Nessie down so far.”
Pride swelled in Jack’s chest, and he pulled up one side of his jacket, revealing the small oval device his older sister had invented recently. He was the first one to ever test it in the field. “Maybe it will this year.” He was excited to see that he had caught Roux’s attention.
“What are you saying? What is it?” The chat reached out, but caught himself halfway through the movement.
Jack smirked. “Go on, you can touch it. It’s a prototype my sister made. It can track Nessie’s cries, even those too quiet for the human ear.”
Roux’s tongue made a split-second movement all the way up to his nose. “Thanks, I’ll be fine with my own two ears. We can’t all have the advantages of wealth and fame.”
“Maybe you should just be happy you saved Jack Addison, so he can do great things in the future.”
Roux’s jaw dropped, revealing a tongue with tiny nubs on it. “You should be happy you’re not baby tarantoid feed. You haven’t even thanked me for that. I could have left you there.”
Jack let out a long exhale. “That’s why I came over, but you can’t be civil like a normal person.”
“At least I’m a person to you now,” Roux grumbled. His body language was so tense just looking at it made Jack tired and stiff. “I accept your gratitude.”
Jack cleared his throat and offered Roux one of the cups. “How does that tongue feel?” Did chats give each other oral sex with them?
Roux took the cup in both paws, and Jack itched to touch their pads and check if they felt soft. “Huh? What do you mean?” His ears laid a bit flatter, and it had to be the cutest thing Jack had ever seen.
If they had been alone, he might have attempted to scratch them, but they were not alone, and he didn’t want some weird gossip reaching his close friends and family. “I mean, your tongue has those nubs. Do they feel like a cat’s or is it smooth, like mine?” he asked and tapped his bottom front teeth with one finger.
It was ridiculous how apprehensive Roux seemed, as if he believed Jack was about to pounce on him or something. In the end though, he stuck out his tongue, letting Jack look at it in detail before speaking again.
“Like a cat’s. But not to scale, if that makes sense. If a cat was my size, the hooks on his tongue would be massive.” Behind them, Roux’s tail started slowly swaying in the air, and Jack found himself fantasizing about it discreetly making its way under the back of his shirt.
“So they’re actually sharp? Would it hurt if you licked me?” Jack asked, oddly excited about this conversation. He was on a roll!
Roux moved an inch away, and Jack had to stop himself from catching Roux’s tail. Civil. He was supposed to be civil.
“Why would I lick you?”
Jack raised his hand. “It was a figure of speech. I mean… unless you are… interested in human males? I’ve seen this erotic picture with chats, and they were licking each other,” he said, suddenly acutely aware of every single twitch of the pretty white whiskers.
Roux’s ears went flat once more, his eyes widened and he rose so fast some of his drink spilled to the wooden floor. “What are you insinuating?”
Jack just followed his instinct, grabbing Roux’s paw and pulling him back down. It was soft. Like a baby kitten’s. Roux didn’t walk on those pads, so they hadn’t hardened the way his feet surely had. But despite the distraction, Jack focused on Roux’s eyes, on the fluffy mouth, and his pink nose. “It’s academic curiosity, but if that means anything to you, I am into males. You know, like a pussycat,” he said in a low voice, and winked.
Roux didn’t even blink. In the dim light, his pupils were huge, breathtaking. He pulled his paw away when he noticed Jack was still holding it, but there was not a claw in sight. “Don’t say that word.”
K. A. Merikan is the pen name for Kat and Agnes Merikan, a team of writers, who are taken for sisters with surprising regularity. Kat’s the mean sergeant and survival specialist of the duo, never hesitating to kick Agnes’s ass when she’s slacking off. Her memory works like an easy-access catalogue, which allows her to keep up with both book details and social media. Also works as the emergency GPS. Agnes is the Merikan nitpicker, usually found busy with formatting and research. Her attention tends to be scattered, and despite pushing thirty, she needs to apply makeup to buy alcohol. Self-proclaimed queen of the roads.
They love the weird and wonderful, stepping out of the box, and bending stereotypes both in life and books. When you pick up a Merikan book, there’s one thing you can be sure of – it will be full of surprises.
EMAIL: kamerikan@gmail.com
Jack Addison vs. Mad-Ravishing Spider #1
Jack Addison vs. Nessie's Tentacles #2
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