Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne back again with the start of a new book!
Horny Monsters? Again? Well, my friends, the story isn't done yet! Also, it would seem I still have a fair number of new readers who drop in and still get angry when they realize that the previous 2 million words I've written in this universe actually matters. So if you're a new reader, stop that. Go back to chapter 001. Binge read this shit until your eyes bleed and you learn why we no longer talk about the Clue Incident.
Returning readers, welcome back! I'm so happy you're here, and would like to remind you that I tend to write the beginning of each book as if we've all actually taken a break and may need some reminders. Thanks for all the support you've shown with the previous 7+ installments. I hope that I can continue earning that support with this newest book.
I will have slow releases for a bit to accommodate my summer plans, then we will get back to our regularly scheduled program. Always check my bio to see when I plan on releasing new content, I try SUPER hard to stick to that schedule!
That being said, let's dive right in with something relaxing for your
Head and Shoulders
Mike Radley was taking a nap in his favorite recliner when he felt a faint pulse of danger somewhere in his house. His eyes snapped open and he leveled his gaze at the window, wondering if the sense had been triggered by an intruder in his home. The odds were essentially impossible that a stranger could somehow bypass the magical wards on his home and then sneak past the centaurs who were constantly maintaining his ever expanding front yard, but he had learned long ago that the word impossible was largely meaningless in regards to him or his magical home.
"What's wrong?" Kisa asked, opening her eyes to look at him. The catgirl had fallen asleep in his lap and was now sitting up, her green eyes scanning the office.
"Not sure yet." He rose to stand, and his familiar hopped off him effortlessly, her padded feet hitting the wooden floor without making a sound. The two of them were alone and the house was unusually quiet. Mike moved to the window to look outside. It was mid-October and his front yard was a mosaic of red and yellow. What few leaves had already fallen on the ground had been raked into small piles that would be turned into compost and tilled into the soil come spring. "Vague feeling that something bad happened."
"Inside or out?" she asked.
Mike shrugged. "Not sure yet, but I--"
That tiny pulse hit him again, the one that said he was in danger. Precognition was one of many gifts that had been bequeathed to him upon inheriting the house, which had been further strengthened by swapping souls with a cyclops. Still, it had its limitations. Whatever was happening could potentially harm or even kill him, but usually the danger was extremely obvious.
"Ooh, I felt that one." As his familiar, Kisa was linked to Mike in a way that let her feel many of the things that he did. She yawned and stretched, then walked toward the door. "Where is everybody?"
"I don't know, but--"
Mike was interrupted by the sound of slamming doors, followed by thudding footsteps. Moments later, his son Callisto came galloping into the living room, his hooves scratching up the wooden floors. Upon seeing his father, Callisto's eyes grew wide and he slipped, his legs sprawling out beneath him as he slid across the floor and came to a stop at Mike's feet.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet.
"For what?" asked Mike. He looked up to see Grace come scrambling into the room as well, only she was on the ceiling. The little Arachne dropped down from above and skittered across the floor to her brother.
"Bad news," she said, pointing back toward the dining room.
"Bad how?" Mike looked to his son for answers.
"Um..." Callisto closed his eyes and winced. "We made a poor decision today."
There was a loud bang from the kitchen, followed by the sound of pots and pans being scattered across the floor. Mike and Kisa exchanged uneasy glances, then looked down at the children for answers.
"What did you do?" asked Mike.
"We opened the Vault."
"Fuck." Mike stepped over his children and walked toward the dining room. "Kisa, see if Yuki is in her room. I'll need her help."
"On it." The catgirl raced up the stairs, followed by Grace. Callisto struggled to get his legs beneath him, his hooves further scratching the wooden floor. He had lost the rubber caps that he had been wearing earlier, most likely in his mad scramble up the stairs.
"Why the hell were you two downstairs messing with the Vault?" demanded Mike as he looked into the dining room. It contained the largest table he had ever seen along with a couple of dozen wooden chairs. So far, whatever was happening in the kitchen hadn't spread to the dining room.
"Um...we were curious." Callisto fidgeted with his hands.
"Try again," asked Mike. "You've been warned several times that the Vault is the most dangerous place in the house."
"That's why we were curious."
"Gods damn it," muttered Mike. "How did you even get the door open?"
"Grace figured it out." Callisto said something else, but the sudden slamming of cookware in the kitchen drowned him out.
Mike looked over his shoulder to see that his son had backed into the office.
The Vault was a magically sealed room that contained dangerous magical artifacts. Over the last couple of years, Ratu, the naga, had taken it upon herself to destroy or dismantle several of them. Strangely enough, no matter how many objects they pulled from the room, it always seemed like more appeared. Every time the Vault was opened, something tried to escape and today was apparently no exception.
"Go back to the centaur village," Mike said. "Tell your mom that you opened the Vault and to punish you appropriately."
Callisto's face went white, and he coughed into his hand. "Well, I mean, this is a house matter, and my mother probably doesn't--"
Something in the kitchen let out a shriek reminiscent of a low flying fighter jet. By the time the sound had passed, Callisto had yanked open the front door and was already halfway across the lawn to the portal.
"Damn kids," Mike muttered, then went to close the door. As he did, the spectral figure of a woman in white poked her head through the wooden door, a large smile on her face as she phased through it.