Another Excerpt: Nwa Pante Rising.

A little set up: Shiloh and Turi are returning to her house after Turi thwarts a kidnapping attempt. She’s still stuck in Panther form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      EXCERPT      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*My keys are in my apron.* Shiloh darted ahead. She was waiting by her gate and looking pretty pleased with herself when Turi caught up with her. She nosed past him into the yard. *It’s the one with the blue thingy on it.* 

“Settle down,” Turi chided as he came up with the correct key for her. “They could be inside waiting for you.”

*How would you know the difference between who’s been allowed inside my house and who’s there uninvited?* Shiloh’s tail swished impatiently as she waited for him to scent the house. *You don’t know me. I could have hordes of men tromping through on a daily basis for all you know.*

“Hordes of them huh?” Even though Turi knew better than that from Shiloh’s reaction to their encounter in the nightclub, a pang of jealousy stabbed at his gut. When he didn’t scent anyone actively in her home, he let her move into the dark kitchen ahead of him.

*Yep. Scads and oodles.* Shiloh flicked her tail at him as she padded over to the light switch then pawed it on.

Turi couldn’t help but smile at her obvious attempt to goad him. He didn’t buy it; anyone who used “scads and oodles” wasn’t likely to have a turnstile on her bedroom door. Still, there were male scents in her home, deeply ingrained too. “I think I know you well enough, Shiloh.”


Published by: Kawanee Hamilton

Kawanee was born in Alexandria Louisiana but her first real memories are of Russellville Arkansas. She's always loved to read, and has always had an vivid imagination. She grew up in a house where almost everyone read, they didn't need a TV although she could still be found planted on her butt in front of her grandma's TV watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. She made up her first story with her mother when her cat died; it was about where pets go when they die. She continued to create stories from bad dreams she had and her dad would help her change nightmares to stories. They would sit up in a chair until the scary went away. He told her that: "Dreams, good or bad, are just stories your mind makes up. You are the author of your dreams; if you don't like them rewrite them. " She was hooked and has continued to read and write stories drawing from dreams, sights and just pure imagination. She just recently decided she'd like to try and get published and fail than wonder what if. Her story continues but where it goes from here is up to you, the Reader... She hopes you'll join her in finding out where her journey goes from here!

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