As I wait impatiently for feedback on Ethereal Law: Ethereals Book 2, I’ve found myself returning to my West series and the first book I wrote. Although I believed the writing to be atrocious, on reflection it’s actually not that bad.
Don’t misunderstand, it’s by no means great and is going through extensive editing but that’s not taking quite as long as I expected, so it seems my second novel to be released will be West Series 1: West Running Wild.
For those of you waiting for Ethereal Law, don’t worry I’m aiming to release it in April, but perhaps you will like this in the mean time.
So, here is my introduction to West Running Wild, I hope you like it.
Marcus Wild runs ‘Wild Enterprises.” He’s confident, successful and knows exactly what to expect from his life; no commitments. Unfortunately, if he wants to keep his job and get full control of his company he has to abide by his late father’s wishes. He has to take on his father’s charity and help care for the old man’s pets.
Catherine West is the caretaker of the ‘Wild sanctuary’ but dreams of having her own. All she has to do is make sure Marcus abides by his father’s wishes for a year and she’ll inherit enough money to make her dream a reality.
With dogs stealing his bed, rats eating his contracts and cats invading his bathroom Marcus is thrown totally out of his comfort zone. A state which isn’t helped by Cathy who distracts him with her curves and laughs at him constantly. Maybe it’s time he tried a proper relationship; if only he could convince Cathy to agree to his plan.
Fur flies as West meets Wild!
Marcus never before realised how hard it could be to drive with a dog in the car. He pulled up, in front of his father’s house, and resisted the urge to scurry out and kiss the floor.
His forty minute commute had taken an hour and a half, during which, he nearly crashed three times.
Firstly, when the pup crawled onto his lap; then again when the thing slid to the floor, making him scared to press peddles in case he crushed it, and thirdly when he coasted to the side of the road. Though truthfully, he couldn’t blame the pup for the third time. Perhaps, if the young woman in charge of the other car had been in school, where it looked like she belonged, that near miss could have been avoided. Instead, she’d been driving down a dual carriageway while applying her makeup, drinking a coffee, and smoking a cigarette.
Once he’d managed to stop the car safely on the hard shoulder the teenybopper had wasted no time in rushing over to inform him that he’d caused her to spill her coffee. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when a police car pulled in behind them. At least someone else could explain to the young woman what you shouldn’t do while driving a car.
That’s what he’d thought anyway.
It turned out that the police officer had a soft spot for young women who claim their large breasts have been burnt by scalding coffee due to maniacs who can’t indicate.
Fifteen minutes, and two tickets later, one of which was for having a dog loose in his car, who knew that was illegal? He was doing some fancy work with his belt, designing a makeshift lead to restrain the pup. He re-joined the flow of traffic just in time to be stuck in a jam where he had to endure constant pining and the smell of the dog’s urine as the heat in the vehicle increased. Apparently, the dog didn’t like cars.
The puppy now stared up at him from the passenger seat as it chewed on the belt tied around its waist. He rolled his eyes, as he watched it gnaw on the black leather. “Don’t worry that’s only Armani.”
Samson jumping up at his car door startled him. The big dog barked and then licked his window as its claws screeched down the paintwork, attempting to open the door.
“Get back,” he grumbled climbing from the car and staggering as the big dog jumped up him to lick his face. “Okay, okay I like you too,” he laughed shoving the mutt away. “Now, sit down.”
Samson sat as commanded and panted up at Marcus.
“Oh aren’t you a good boy,” he reached down to pat the dog on the head, however, his hand hit thin air as Samson bounded past him and leaped into the car.
“Get out you stupid mutt,” Marcus shouted, all warm feelings for the dog vanishing as he grabbed Samson’s collar. He yanked unsuccessfully attempting to remove it from his car, but the dog seemed determined to stay right where he was, sniffing the puppy and drooling over his passenger seat.
He straightened and glared down at the dogs. “Thanks, because the car wasn’t dirty enough.”
“Having fun?” a droll voice asked from behind him.
Marcus spun to find Cathy about three feet away, stood with her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles.
“What’s Samson doing?” she asked with amusement.
“Either greeting the puppy or trying to eat it,” Marcus told her as the bigger dog licked the smaller one.
“Puppy?” Cathy’s whole face lit up as she rushed forward and shoved him aside. In ten seconds flat, she’d pulled Samson from the car. How did she do that? And now stood cuddling the black and white ball of fluff as she told it how cute it was. Samson, being the bloody annoying dog he was, sat nicely at her side, good as gold.
“Typical,” he grumbled.
“Where did she come from?” Cathy asked as she tickled the pup’s tummy and whispered more adoring words.
“Some old woman brought it to my office,” he said. “Apparently, she knew my father; worked with him. Claimed she tried the house first but no one had been home.”
Cathy looked thoughtful for a moment. “Was she tall, dark haired, and wearing tweed?”
“More like, huge, scaled, and breathing fire,” Marcus said sarcastically as he examined the extent of the damage to his car.
Cathy’s laughter brought a smile to his lips. “Oh she’s not so bad,” she admonished. “I’ll give her a ring later and get this little lady’s details off her. What are you doing?”
“Just examining the damage done to my car. That walking ball of yaps has a bladder problem.”
“Oh,” Cathy nodded her head in understanding. “Oh well, can’t be helped.” With those helpful words, she headed into the house, once again telling the dog how cute it was.
Marcus could slowly see himself slipping down the pecking order.