The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town

by Riley Moreno

  Leander was not sure what was going to happen, but like that night, he was past caring and he was ready for anything. This was just as well, because he sensed hostility in her steps towards them.

  Vitaliy on his part was amused by the large, beautiful, dark and angry woman who was striding towards him. Very confident that he could not be the object of her scorn, he stepped aside, and she passed him like a gale, without so much as a glance.

  Ms. Landry, who had been nodding in approval all this while, started shaking her head as she tried to call out to Mary to point out the real Vitaliy Kolarov as she blew past him without a word.

  Leander knew he had something coming, but he stood his ground. He thought his memories did her no justice; she looked even sexier than he remembered. Mary could not recognize the clean cut man who she was fast approaching, his suit looked more than her monthly salary could afford; a far cry from the drunken wreck who had fallen through her doorway. She was not sure what she was going to do, but she wanted it to hurt. God your handsome she thought as she punched him square on the nose.

  Vitaliy flinched as he watched his uncle go down. Ms. Landry flew into a hissy, and she sped as fast as she could towards the drama unfolding at the other end of the veranda.

  Young Vitaliy could not help himself, and laughed loudly as he went to his uncle’s aid ahead of Ms. Landry. He was loving every second spent in this country.

  “And that is for taking advantage of me!” Mary hissed, kicking a poor, hapless Leander in the stomach with her sneakers.

  Mary could see the chauffeur was out now and approaching, so she sped off at a ninety degree angle, in the direction of her beat down car. Ms. Landry was confused about whom to go after: Something was going on; should she go after her long-time friend and co-worker or should she go for the potential donor? She decided to follow the money and sped to join the group helping the young billionaire on the floor.

  Before she could reach however, Leander was up and running in the direction Mary had gone. As if on cue, Mary burst forth from round a corner in her beat down car in a flurry of dust and screeching wheels, and nearly ran him over. It was all he could do to dive out of the way.

  Young Vitaliy literally had to hold his mouth to stifle the laughter gurgling forth. He decided that he was going to keep a diary of his time over in the United States. Ms. Landry was beside herself with distress: this was definitely going south, and she had no clue how to salvage the situation despite her experience in the field.

  Leander quickly took the keys from the chauffeur. It had been ages since he had last driven himself and he was not sure of his skills, but every Russian man knows that a good woman is worth chasing; he instructed young Vitaliy to stay with Ms. Landry, to whom he offered his sincerest apologies and he was off in a flurry of dust and screeching tires as well; after the woman he had pined for, for the last month or so.

  The chauffeur, who was a bit elderly, was calm, he had learned to expect anything from the rich and famous down the years; Ms. Landry was shaking her head, still not sure of what had happened. The whole debacle could not have taken more than three minutes but a sniggering Vitaliy felt he could have written volumes. He could already see how it would go in his diary.

  ****

  Leander still drove pretty well, and he sped towards Mary’s house. He did not know why but he felt certain that is where she would be-or at least he hoped so because if she wasn’t he was not sure where he would find her.

  Mary heard the limousine screech to a halt on the curb outside, and remembered with dismay that she had not locked the front door. Leander burst through the door before she could take two strides towards it.

  There was a determination at the edges of his mouth which disarmed her, a look which said he would not be denied. He would have his say. She folded her hands, and waited as he strode fearlessly into the, ironically, still dark living room.

  “I have come to take you with me Mary” he said, rather commanded, into the dark void between them.

  “Why?” she shot back petulantly, “What makes you think I would want to go anywhere with a liar like you?” She shot back, petulance personified, “Who are you? Is Vitaliy your real name? Where is your son?”

  “My real name is Leander; I know you have a lot of questions.”

  “You come into my life, and you disappear like an illusion, and you know where next I see you next on TV! You have not answered my question: Why should I come with you?”

  “Because I love you!” Leander screamed desperately as he approached her,” I love you and I want to be with you.”

  “There something I need-“She began, but Leander cut her off, his mouth closing over hers in a desperate and passionate kiss. Mary felt herself melting in his arms despite everything, but she quickly pulled away.

  “Vitaliy, Leander, whatever you call yourself, I’m pregnant”

  “Wow!”

  “What do you mean wow?!” Mary asked irritated and confused.

  “I mean wow; I am going to be a father!” Leander exulted “or are you trying to say something? You have someone else special?”

  Mary shook her head shyly, still not entirely sure why she should trust him. This feeling of doubt only lasted for the next few seconds. They soon gave way to sheer disbelief as Leander, playboy extraordinaire, went down on his knees.

  “Mary Joanne, will you make an honest man out of a rogue like me? Will you marry me?”

  Mary was speechless. Common sense told her he could not possibly be serious, but theirs had not been a common liaison, from beginning till now.

  “Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head, tears streaming down her eyes. She had never been surer of anything else in her life. “Yes, I will marry you!”

  Leander, still on his knees, apologized, “I do not have a ring sorry, but I am not willing to let you out of my sight again. I promise to buy you the best engagement ring on Earth, the moment we leave here.”

  Mary raised him up, and hugged him deeply, “where are we going?” she asked, her face buried in his chest.

  “To Russia, to meet my family” Leander answered, realizing that he was perhaps taking home the greatest treasure he had yet found during his time away.

  THE END

  Mated by the Panther

  Paranormal Shifter Romance

  By: Riley Moreno

  Chapter One

  Intoxication

  Diesel Wake was wasted. Not the mild-slurring-intoxication you get after a few bears but the full face-in-the-crapper-I-can’t-feel-my-face wasted. It had been a heck of a party but now Diesel was driving home alone. It’s strange how a wedding can make you feel like the loneliest sad sack on the planet. Congratulations, I’m very happy for you but now I’ve got to go back to my empty life. Thanks for having me at your lovefest!

  Damn!

  It was a typical Shifter Grove night, the sky was crowded with boundless stars and there was a mild wind. That was one of the first things Diesel had noticed about Shifter Grove, the wind. It never stopped, it got harsher through winter and as mild as an infrequent fart in the summer but it was ever present, whistling through the abundant woods and making ripples on the quiet part of the river.

  Diesel’s car nearly crashed in to the side of his house but he braked just in time. Diesel looked around guiltily, hoping a cop hadn’t spotted him driving drunk then he laughed out loud when he remembered that he was the Sheriff.

  “Bad Diesel,” he said slapping his wrist then lurched out of the car.

  His home was a large cabin in the woods. Heck, everyone’s house was a cabin in the woods in Shifter Grove; it behooved the nature of the town to have homes in the middle of the wild woods for easier shifting and roaming about. The town had been founded centuries ago by Garrett Bloom, a white settler who had fallen in love with Ahawi, a Canibas Weredeer. He had married her and made the place sacred for all those who wanted to live with Shifters in perfect harmony and the town had flourished.

  In fact it was Donald Blo
om’s wedding Diesel had been to. The descendant of Garrett Bloom looked like a pig in pants, with his hairy chin and beady watery eyes. But surprisingly he didn’t have a Shifting bone in his body. His wife, Delia, was the Were, a nifty pine martin on moonless nights.

  Shifter Grove was a haven and Diesel thanked his luck every day that he’d stumbled upon it. When most teenage boys hitting puberty had been worrying about wet dreams, morning wood and unexpected erections; Diesel had been worried about the hanks of hair that sprouted in odd places and went away the next day.

  The day he’d transformed for the first time had been the worst day. He’d attacked his mother who had run for her room and locked it. He’d prowled the apartment, swiping at the couch, leaving deep gouges in the upholstery, sniffing for food then curling up on the couch and falling asleep. He’d woken up with no memory of turning in to a panther during the screening of Independence Day on TV. He was never able to watch that movie without feeling a sickening panic attack licking at his spine.

  Now that’s what I call a close encounter.

  His mother had told him about her father that night; the father who’d walked out on his mom long before there was even a whisper of a pregnancy. She’d hoped Diesel didn’t get his abnormality, that’s what she’d called it, but it looked like he had and she didn’t know what to tell him; whether it would be easy to control, would the transformations be sudden, would he never remember what he did during, what if he killed someone, what then?

  She just didn’t know. And Diesel felt in that moment she loved him less than she had the night before.

  All you need is love. John Lennon. Smart man. Shot in the back, very sad.

  Diesel had promptly dropped out of high school and hit the streets looking for others like him and his mother didn’t protest or ask him to change his mind and stay; they both knew something irreparable had damaged their relationship and she would never feel safe with him again.

  He’d lived in dilapidated warehouses, rundown churches and abandoned factories trying to stay as far away from people as it was possible, he stole food from supermarkets and mugged young kids on their way home from school. Then he made the mistake of mugging an army man in civilian clothes.

  I picked a hell of a day to quit drinking.

  A black eye and cut lip later Captain Jim Baker of the American Navy had bought Diesel dinner and his first beer. Diesel was a month shy of nineteen then and the frequency of the transformation was at its peak. A full stomach and his first beer buzz made Diesel a happy boy and he’d spilled his whole life story, panther claws and all. The Captain didn’t bat an eye.

  Diesel was recruited by Navy SEAL Black Ops that minute. It had been a rigorous life under the command of Captain Baker but Diesel had been amongst kids like him, Shifters, Weres, all round bad asses. Diesel had been trained in mastering his ability, Shifting when he wanted instead of the other way around, keeping a firm grip on his human consciousness when in the shifted state, controlling the urge to kill indiscriminately and partaking of human flesh.

  They had infiltrated enemy headquarters, leaving a trail of torn bodies and blood soaked rooms in their wake. Rabid animals were better targeted attackers than drones; less civilian casualties and no organization or country to blame. Even hardcore fundamentalists knew that accusing the USA of training wild animals in the army would make them sound cuckoo.

  Payback's a bitch, ain't it?

  But it had gotten too much. Fifteen years of biting in to human flesh had done a number on him and he couldn’t take it anymore, much like Russel Casse, taken on one too many trips on a spaceship. Diesel had taken the honorable discharge, instead of taking to the drink like Casse had, he’d headed in search of Shifter Grove; the fabled land, shifter Utopia, their Zion.

  And here he was shitfaced and stumbling around his home. What he needed was a girlfriend. Not that there hadn’t been interest from the local female population but he hadn’t felt any attraction for any of them; stick thin and empty headed one and all, he needed a meatier woman to hold, someone he didn’t fear snapping in to with one flex of his hand.

  ‘I should get me a mail order bride like Custer,’ he thought with sudden clarity. Custer, the aptly named protagonist of the Western romances Diesel had a penchant for, had gotten himself a firebrand through a mail order bride ad gone wrong. ‘I shall order one myself!’

  Diesel powered up his PC and clicked away, posting an ad on Craigslist, because no one crazy ever came on Craigslist, right? Done with his self-help deed of the day, Diesel headed to bed but only made it to the foot of the bed before he collapsed face down on the floor.

  He wouldn’t remember that ad, not the next morning, nor in the days that followed. Diesel Wake wouldn’t remember till Sonya Blackpaw was at his door larger than life with a whole lot of trouble following behind her.

  Chapter Two

  More Than a Woman

  Rihanna blared in the beat up Buick. A hula girl shimmied on the dash and crushed Red Bull cans littered the floor. The sky outside was clear but the interior of the Buick carried a hazy cloud cover. Sonya sang along as she drove, a cigarette stuck between her lips, her feet tapping in time to the music.

  ‘That skinny bitch can sing,’ Sonya admitted to herself.

  She’d been driving like a cat out of hell for three days, sleeping for a few hours in her car parked in dark allies and behind billboards in sporadic bursts. She smelled him. She knew he was right on her tail.

  “Where the fuck is this place,” she muttered. “Five miles before Waterville it said; you’d think it’d be easier to find.”

  Sonya was running away from her recently ex-boyfriend. A construction worker by day, a mercenary by night, an asshole by choice, and a Weretiger by her God damned luck. She’d seen the ad on Craigslist, that sordid corner of the internet which was home to psychopaths and weirdos, but Sonya found them tame next to Rex.

  ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

  Needed: Girlfriend of Epic Proportions!

  Must be beautiful, smart, strong and independent.

  Must wear bright colors.

  Must like pineapples.

  Must like it rough.

  ABSOLUTELY NO DOG LOVERS!

  Sonya needed a place to crash for a while, this fugitive life was driving her crazy. She needed a shower, a clean bathroom that did not stink of strangers piss and a kitchen to brew strong coffee in. Plus she needed to mingle her scent with other people so Rex couldn’t find her so easily.

  Her whole life seemed like an endless line of bad choices. Her This Is Your Life episode would look like an evidence reel for an intervention. Sonya and Timmy the kleptomaniac; Sonya and the time she dated a pyromaniac; Sonya and the PTSD guy who had night terrors and tried to choke her in her sleep; and who could forget nice guy Gary the salad pusher, ‘it’s a healthier option, love. You could stand to lose a few pounds.’

  And then there was Rex Mathews; a mistake just waiting to happen and Sonya had been like a moth to a flame. Ember green eyes, a scar cutting through his thick eyebrows, a prominent jaw and a smile as feral as they came; how could Sonya not fall for him?

  And now she was on the run.

  Welcome to Shifter Grove

  Population 437

  ‘438,’ Sonya thought and cruised around looking for 14 Maple Road. It was all woods, glades and open country as far as she could see and Sonya had spent about a week of her life out of New York, and that had been at a beach resort in Bali. The woods thinned out a bit and what looked like the market center of Shifter Grove came in to sight.

  Sonya parked outside The Pig Out Spot, a two story diner which looked cheerful and busy. The wind was vicious and blew Sonya’s hair in her face. Sonya could hear the noise of the Kennebec river gushing past on its way to Merry meeting Bay.

  ‘It’s in a mighty rush,’ she thought and stepped in to the cool comfort of the diner, tripped on a crack in the tiles and steadied herself with some difficulty. The walls were painted a cool red, the tables
and booths were nearly all occupied; the bar that also functioned as brunch station was well polished and the large French windows opening to the patio overlooked the Kennebec River that roared and rolled only a few hundred feet away.

  ‘All eyes on me,’ Sonya smiled at the people who were all staring at her. It was obvious they didn’t get many tourists or out of town visitors and she must be something of an oddity. But Sonya was more than that she turned heads wherever she went.

  Larger than most women Sonya had natural big breasts and loved to wear bright colored low cut dresses and tank tops to accentuate her assets rather than bind them up, throw them in a closet and ditch the key. Even when on the run from a blood mad ex-boyfriend Sonya looked stunning, her lips painted a ruby red to go with her floral printed wrap around top and jeans that hugged her hips and really brought out the curve of her butt.

  “Howdy,” she said raising a hand and the occupants of the diner either looked away, smiled back at her or called out there on greetings. The awkward situation averted Sonya headed for the bar. “I’d like some breakfast and directions to Maple Road, please,” she said giving the man her sweetest smile.

  “Sure thing,” the man said, he had a red beard, curly red tufts spilling out of his open collar and a shining bald head. “Are you visiting someone?” he asked.

  “Yup,” Sonya said smacking her lips.

  The man eyed her breasts and Sonya smiled wickedly.

  ‘Sleazy McGee.’

  “Eggs, sunny side up, please,” Sonya said tapping the table to get the man’s attention and pointing to her eyes. The man blushed crimson and headed to the kitchen to get her order sorted. Sonya didn’t have to wait long before a man sidled on to the stool beside her at the bar. ‘I’m a jerk magnet.’

  “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in Shifter Grove?” he asked, he smelled of sweat, grease and dirt. “Got any claws I should be afraid of?”