My name is Bitefighter. I am a 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire.
I’ve fought cats, chihuahuas, and Chitauri warlords. My tactical acumen is beyond reproach. I have made hardened warriors cry, and despite my tiny legs and baseball-sized head, I have managed to seduce full-grown Labradors and Great Danes. Nothing scares me. Nothing can thwart me.
(Except for ONE thing.)
I can hear them now—teenagers singing along to that blasted harlot Taylor Swift. Is that enough to lay Bitefighter low? Don’t make me laugh. It’s what they’re holding in their perfectly manicured fingers that makes me shiver with lust.
I know it’s a mishmash of processed junk. I know it will pooch my small hairy belly into a miniature pogo-ball, and eject horrid flatulence out from my anus. I know it will ravage my insides with the ferocity of Khan’s armies.
But it’s so goddamn delicious.
I’m hidden under the sofa, my muscles trembling as I use every ounce of will to keep myself from squirting out and chowing down on their amazeballs treaties. My eyes roll back into my tiny skull as I go into something akin to the Jedi trance in Empire, when Luke is getting ready to telekinetically access his lightsaber. Yes bitch…yasss…I am in complete control…nothing can fuck with my beast-mode meditation…NOTHING, goddammit…
SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!
NO! I scrabble out from under the couch, my traitorous hindbrain activating its chase mechanisms. I spot the squeaky toy in the tweenager’s hand, sprint toward it, and—
—take a flying leap, soaring through the air and grabbing it in my teeth. Orgasmic waves of pleasure crash through my body as I gnaw madly at it—Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!—growling and shaking the toy in unbridled fury.
“Awwww….so CUTE!” The tweenagers crowd around me, cooing and scratching my poochy little belly. One of them readies a doggy bandanna dotted with little bones, and another stretches open a Halloween sweater with a pumpkin on its back. Arrrgh!!! So fucking demeaning!
Oh God…I’m such an asshole…such a stupid, weak idiot…but scratchies feel so GOOD….
NO! I wriggle out of their clutches and run over to a discarded eReader, flipping it open to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Gary Busey, dressed in nothing but a banana hammock and clown makeup, bursts into the room, flapping his jiggly turkey arms and yelling “BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!” The tweenagers freak the fuck out, shrieking at the top of their lungs, and flee out the door. I’m screaming right along with them—roof rowf ARF!—running past the forest of their legs. I sprint outside and make a break for it.
Because a banana hammocked Gary Busey is scary as SHIT!
Are you a feisty little terrier that’s in imminent danger of wearing the dreaded Dog Shirt? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book