by Martha Carr
Go Dwarf Yourself
Dwarf Bounty Hunter™ Book One
Martha Carr
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © LMBPN Publishing
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
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Las Vegas, NV 89109
Version 1.01, October 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64971-194-6
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64971-195-3
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-2020 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
The Go Dwarf Yourself Team
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Free Books
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Author Notes - Michael
Connect with The Authors
Also by Martha Carr
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
The Go Dwarf Yourself Team
Thanks to our JIT Team:
Dorothy Lloyd
Diane L Smith
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Misty Roa
Jeff Goode
Dave Hicks
Deb Mader
Paul Westman
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
SkyHunter Editing Team
Chapter One
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll—” Johnny grunted with self-directed exasperation and the ghost of a smile twitched his lips beneath his thick, dark-red mustache. “Who am I kidding? Of course it’ll work. I made it.”
He inserted a tiny metal pick into the side of the device set on a black leather collar to activate the translator. Once he’d done the same to a second device on a brown leather collar, he lifted both from the worktable in his dining room-turned-workshop.
“All right, boys. Time for a test drive.”
The dwarf’s size-ten boots clomped across the wooden floor of his small, tidy cabin until he reached the living room. His two black-and-tan coonhounds sprawled on the rug in front of the empty fireplace he hadn’t used since he’d bought the property. Both dogs raised their heads at his approach and their droopy ears perked up as they eyed the collars in each of their master’s hands.
He glanced at the boar’s head trophy mounted above the fireplace and the collection of old hunting rifles on the mantle—two of them from the end of the sixteenth century—and smirked. This’ll be the cherry on the swampy damn sundae.
“Rex.”
The coonhound closest to the fireplace sat and stared at him. His tail thumped once on the rug.
“You first, boy. Come here.” He held a hand out toward the slightly larger hound and Rex trotted obediently toward him. The dwarf held the brown leather collar between his teeth while he fastened the black collar around the dog’s neck, then raised his index finger. Rex sat immediately, and he took the other collar out of his mouth to call to the hound’s brother. “Luther. Let’s go.”
Luther scrambled excitedly to his feet and practically leapt across the room toward his master. His tail wagged fervently while Johnny fastened the brown leather collar around his neck, but the dog sat as obediently as his brother when he raised his index finger again. Neither hound made a sound when he withdrew a small metal tube the size of a .44 Magnum shell from his pocket. But they’re about to make much more noise now.
“See this?” Johnny held the tube between thumb and forefinger to show his hounds the last piece of his newest magical-tech invention. “We’re about to take this to a whole new level. It only took me four years to realize we needed it, but you boys won’t wanna go back. Watch.”
He stuck the end of the tube against the side of his neck and pressed on the top end with his thumb. A sharp jolt seared through his neck and he grunted with a brief frown before he wiggled his nose under the intense but short-lived itch.
“Damn. That shit packs a punch and tastes like…is that onions?”
“Onions?” Luther’s tail thumped wildly against the floor as he stared at his master. “He said onions, right? I want onions.”
Rex didn’t move. “We can’t eat onions. He dropped one off the grill last summer, remember? I spent the rest of the day shittin’ in the swamp.”
“Ooh. The swamp. Let’s go.”
The dwarf chuckled and folded his muscular arms covered in a thick layer of the same wiry red hair as his mustache and beard. “We’ll head out in a little while, boys. And Rex is right. No onions for dogs. Although at this point, I reckon both of you have eaten twice your weight in shit you shouldn’t have.”
“Hey.” Luther’s higher-pitched voice filled his mind as the smaller hound cocked his head and let his tongue flop out of his mouth for a quick pant. “He heard you say onions.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.” Johnny nodded emphatically. “Look at this, huh? I can hear you and you can hear me. I’d call that a hell of a success.”
“Cool.” Luther straightened his back legs for a brief moment before a glance from his master forced him onto his haunches again. “So let’s go. It’s been a little while, right? Swamp time.”
Rex licked his muzzle and uttered a low chuff as he stared at Johnny, waiting for his master to release him from his seat at the edge of the area rug in the living room. “Wanna eat?”
Luther’s tail thumped wildly against the rug. “I could eat. Do we catch it? I could catch it too.”
“Hey, chill out. There’s an easier way to get what we want now.” Rex’s droopy eyebrows lifted as he tilted his head at his master. “Simply ask him over and over to let us out or feed us until he gives up.”
Johnny smirked. “That’s your smart idea?”
“Johnny.” Luther uttered a low whine. “Johnny. Johnny. Let’s get some food. Hey, Johnny. Come on. Food time. Swamp time.”
The dwarf took two steps back and grinned at his hounds. “All right. Go on, git.”
“Yes!” Luther kicked at the rug as he scrabbled onto his hind legs before he leapt and scrambled toward the dog door at the back of the house.
Rex stood hastily and trotted after his brother. “Yeah, we’ll catch it. Do
you want us to bring you something for fun?”
“Not if you eat it first,” Johnny called as the dog door clicked shut again after his retreating hounds.
A loud, coonhound bay rose from behind the cabin, followed by the dogs’ shouts that diminished as they raced across the yard at the edge of the swamp.
“It went this way.”
“Get it! Faster!”
“Oh, man! I’m gonna rip its tail off!”
Nodding in satisfaction, the dwarf ran a hand through his thick, dark-auburn hair and turned toward his workshop. That’s how you get shit done. Screw man’s best friend. I have dwarf’s best huntin’ dogs and two extra pairs of eyes. See if we don’t triple the game we bring home after this.
He entered the workshop and paused to regard the taxidermized alligator mounted on a well-oiled plank of oak right off the small kitchen. Better than this ʼgator. I wanna trade this one out for a fifteen-footer.
At his worktable, he stopped and sniffed, smacked his lips against the slight aftertaste of onions, and set to work cleaning up after finishing the translating dog collars. That was part of his number-one rule. Keep it simple. And simple meant cleaning up after himself and everything in its place, no matter how happy he was with the way the collars turned out.
As he closed the jumbo-sized tackle box where he kept his magical tools, both hounds bayed wildly outside, followed by the clack and scrabble of the dog door when it whipped up and clapped down again. Their claws clicked across the floor toward the dining room.
“Johnny! Johnny, open the door.” Luther raced past his master and skidded to a stop inches from the front door. “Open it.”
Rex trotted after his brother and darted Johnny a glance. “Someone’s here.”
“No kiddin’.” The dwarf placed the tackle box on the floor and shoved it under the worktable with the toe of his boot. He hiked his black Levi’s up and headed after his hounds toward the door. “Is it anyone we know?”
“Black SUV,” Rex said, stopped behind his brother, and shifted sideways when Luther’s tail threatened to whack him in the face.
“It was blue,” Luther added.
“Black.”
“All right. Back away.” Johnny trudged toward the front of the house as the hounds retreated, their tails wagging, and he stopped in front of the small square window beside the front door. He swept the plain gray curtain aside to peer outside. Sure enough, a black SUV rolled along the dirt road and stopped in front of the folding lawn chairs at the end of the drive.
“Black.” Johnny frowned at the hounds. “Luther, what color are my boots?”
“Blue.”
Rex stepped sideways again to avoid his brother’s tail. “They’re black.”
“Huh.” He snorted and returned his attention to the sliver of window behind the curtain in his hand.
The driver’s door of the SUV opened and a nondescript man in an equally black and boring suit with a receding hairline stepped out of the car. He waved a hand in front of his face to clear the dust cloud he’d stirred up with his vehicle. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nondescript enough for Johnny not to recognize him.
“What’s this bastard doin’ here?” He shook his head. “Same black sunglasses and everything.”
“Let us out, Johnny.” Luther uttered a sharp bark. “We’ll go see what he wants.”
“No one’s gonna answer your questions when they can’t hear you. That’s only me.” The dwarf frowned when the passenger door opened as well and a tall, slender woman emerged. His left eye twitched, and he tugged the curtain into place over the window. “And he brought a friend. I don’t care how long it’s been. He knows I don’t like him bringing friends.”
“We like friends.” Luther’s tail wouldn’t stop and he stepped toward the door and away again in excitement.
“Is it a dog friend?” Rex asked.
“No, she’s a ten all around.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, chin, and beard, scowled, and moved toward the front door where he stood with folded arms. “Whatever he wants, he’s shit outta luck.”
“Johnny, open the door.”
“Open it. We’ll tell ʼem to go home.”
Johnny snapped his fingers and both hounds sat. “He’ll discover it soon enough.”
With that, he turned and headed into his workshop to finish cleaning.
“They’re coming.”
“They’re here.”
“Johnny, open the door.”
The screen door creaked open, followed by three sharp, solid knocks on the front door. Both hounds barked once in reply.
“Leave it alone, boys. We’re not entertaining guests.”
The knock came again, followed by another sharp bark from each hound.
“Johnny Walker. I know you’re in there. Open up. It’s Tommy Nelson.”
“Tommy.” Luther backed away with a low whine. “Who’s Tommy?”
The dwarf sneered. “Salesman.”
“Johnny?” The man outside paused, then grasped the door handle. “If you don’t open this door, I will.”
The dwarf shook his head and swept the stray metal bolts and scrap pieces off the table and into his wide palm. “Go ahead. I didn’t have dogs the last time.”
“Want us to rip off his hand?” Rex asked with a low growl.
“Not yet.”
“All right, Johnny. I’m coming in.” Tommy cleared his throat. “This is your last chance if you wanna start this off by not being a dick.”
He snorted. Like that’s even an option.
“Fine.” The agent muttered something under his breath and turned the door handle.
Rex and Luther each barked once but stayed where they were when the front door swung open.
Tommy Nelson removed his black sunglasses and paused when he saw the two fifty-five-pound coonhounds who greeted him. “Hey, pups.”
Rex barked and the man jumped. “I’ll knock him over if you want.”
Luther whined, his tail wagging furiously as he panted and stared at the newcomer. “You think salesman tastes better than squirrel?”
Johnny shook his head and called from his workshop-dining room, “Whatever it is, Nelson, I’m not buying.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not selling anything.” Tommy inched through the front door, his gaze fixed on the dogs while he tried to stay calm and relatively friendly—or as friendly as a government liaison to monsters and magicals could ever be. “I’m the one who pays you, remember?”
“Not in a long time.” The dwarf sniffed and dropped the handful of metal scrap into the tin pail beneath the worktable. “And not anymore.”
Tommy glanced around the entry of the dwarf’s house and skirted the animals. “I see you got yourself a few partners since the last time we talked.”
“Yeah, and they’re better company since the last time you were here too.” Dusting his hands off, he finally stepped into the front hall from his workshop and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “Feel free to turn and head out again.”
“I can’t do that, Johnny. Not without laying everything out for you to see.”
“Ooh! A lady!” Luther whined again as a tall, smoking-hot woman with long dark hair spilling over her shoulders stepped through the front door. “She smells good, Johnny.”
The dwarf glanced briefly at the woman—who wore the same black suit as Agent Nelson but looked a hell of a lot better in it—and shook his head. “I’m not interested.”
“You haven’t even seen the—hey!” Tommy lurched away from Rex’s snout nudging into his backside, turned, and pressed his back against the wall. “You have some friendly hounds here.”
“Only if I want ʼem to be.”
The woman smirked and held her hand out toward Luther as his back half wiggled. “They’re beautiful.”
Johnny frowned at her. “They’re dogs. Pick of the litter but still dogs.”
Luther ignored the woman’s outstretched hand and waited for her to shut the fro
nt door before he snuck around to sniff her legs and backside. “Whew. I knew she smelled good. Whad’ya think, Rex? Lunch an hour ago?”
Rex moved his nose up and down Tommy’s pantleg and snorted. “He had the Rueben.”
“Yeah? I’m gettin’ shrimp.”
The woman stepped tentatively away from the over-excited Luther and glanced around the inside of Johnny Walker’s home. “You have some place here.”
He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I’m not a fan of words that don’t match facial expressions. Even when they’re a compliment.”
She looked quickly at him, studied him from head to toe, and smirked without another word.
Tommy stared at her and a small frown drew his eyebrows down before he cleared his throat. “Hear me out, okay? Let me show you what we’re lookin’ at.”
“I don’t need to see it to tell you no, Nelson. You’re wasting your time.”
“What if I started by telling you the US Government’s willing to double your normal fee for this one?”
Johnny shook his head. “You’re still wasting your time. And mine.”
“Come on, Johnny—”
“Fifteen years, Nelson. I’m outta the game. You know that and you know why. Things are simple here for me now. All I need is Sheila and two coonhounds and my guns.”
“There’s the crossbow too.” Rex panted heavily and stalked after Tommy as the man inched down the hall. “Tell him about the crossbow.”
