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Authors: Megan Slayer

Cat Style (Stray Cats)

BOOK: Cat Style (Stray Cats)
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Cat Style (Stray Cats)

Megan Slayer

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Megan Slayer

BIN: 06761-02176
Formats Available:
Adobe PDF, Epub, HTML,
MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader
Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
315 N. Centre St.
Martinsburg, WV 25404
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Adult Sexual Content

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Table of Contents

 

Cat Style (Stray Cats)

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Epilogue

Megan Slayer

Cat Style (Stray Cats)

Megan Slayer

 

 

He’s got cat style, but does he have what it takes to win her heart?

 

Penelope went to the witch’s house to look at the cats, not bring one home. The moment she spotted the tiny fur baby with huge green eyes, she lost her heart. But Hildegard’s cats aren’t all they seem. One skeptical owner plus one affectionate shifter equals love cat-style -- but will love prevail over the evil threatening to kill her furry best friend?

Prologue

 

“I do not need a kitten. I do not need a kitten,” Penelope chanted to herself. She’d seen the sign in the witch’s yard, but never imagined she’d actually go to the house and adopt one of the critters. She stared at the weather-beaten front door of the house.
Either knock or get the heck off the porch
.

“Open the door, child,” came a scratchy voice from the other side of the door.

“Hello?” Penelope inched backwards. “I’m here to look at the kittens.”

A creaking sound came from inside the house. The door finally opened, and an elderly woman with unkempt salt and pepper hair peeked out at her. The woman smiled. She clutched a tiny kitten in both gnarled hands.

“I’m glad to see you,” the woman said. She offered the cat to Penelope. “This is Fang. He’s been waiting on you.”

“Fang?” She petted the black cat’s head. Tufts of black fur stuck up at the tips of his ears. “How’s he been waiting on me? Or is that part of your selling methods?” The more she petted him, the more she couldn’t walk away.

“Penelope, I know who all of my cats will go to.” She placed the kitten in Penelope’s hands. “There. He’s happy now.”

“He?” Crap. She’d been reduced to one-word questions. She rubbed the kitten’s head on her cheek. So soft and fluffy. “Why hasn’t he been nabbed before now?”

“Nabbed?” The woman’s eyes widened.

“I meant adopted. He’s sweet looking and so soft. I’m sure he’s the first one everyone touches when they look at the kittens.” She cradled him to her chest. “Well, they won’t now. I’m head over heels for him.”

The woman smiled. “Wonderful. Take care of him, and he’ll be exactly what you need.” She clapped her hands. “Enjoy.”

Before Penelope could say anything, the woman strode back into the house and closed the door with a snick.

“I will. Thank you -- I think.” Penelope turned and left the porch, but a thousand questions bounced around her mind. Had the little guy had any of his shots? Had he been to the vet? How old was he? Was he really a he? She sighed. First thing in the morning, she’d call the vet and make an appointment. Maybe she didn’t have the best luck with human men, but she’d give the love and companionship of an animal a try. Why not?

She climbed into her car and placed the kitten on the passenger seat. She should’ve brought a carrier or something, but then again, she hadn’t planned on getting one of the little critters. “I need to get kitty litter and kitten chow.”

* * *

One year later…

 

“Five more minutes of trick-or-treat. If I’m lucky, I’ve got two pieces left.” Penelope glanced at the nearly empty bucket. Two hours prior, the bucket had overflowed with candy. She leaned on the doorframe and glanced over at the television. The coverage of the storm damage played on every channel. Her hometown of Hazard had postponed trick-or-treating until three days after the traditional Halloween holiday.

Her doorbell rang and someone called, “Trick-or-treat!” The voice seemed awfully low and male for a kid, but who knew these days?

Ready to part with the last two pieces of candy, she yanked open the door. “Here you… go?” Instead of a kid in costume or even a parent who’d spoken for a smaller child, no one stood on the stoop.

“Meow.”

She knew that sound. “Fang! It’s Halloween. How in the name of God did you get out? I had you in the bedroom so you wouldn’t get loose.” She scooped the cat into her arms and flipped the switch to turn off the porch light. “You can be a real poop sometimes.” She nudged the door shut with her hip then engaged the lock. As per usual, the cat cuddled in her grasp and purred. She plunked him on the couch. “What am I going to do with you? Huh? I’ll get that bell I’ve threatened to put on you.”

Penelope sighed and closed her eyes. She rubbed her temple. As much as she loved the cat, he drove her crazy. “I should take you to the vet and have you fixed,” she grumbled. “That would teach you.”

“I suppose you could, but what fun is that?”

She opened her eyes. Instead of her black cat lounging on the couch, a dark-haired man with a hint of scruff on his cheeks and not a stitch of clothing on sat in his place.

“You’re not Fang.” Not her best response, but who in the hell was he? She balled her fists, ready to punch the intruder. “What did you do with my cat and how the hell did you get in?”

“Penn, it’s me, Fang. My mother called me Ascher, and I rather like it better.” He rose to his feet. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’d rather be back in your arms.”

Her brain misfired. A nude man, handsome at that, in her house and wanting to be in her arms? And he claimed to be her cat? She wobbled on her feet. The room went blurry, then black. When she opened her eyes, the man was crouching over her.

“Penn? Fuck.” His eyebrows crinkled and he smoothed her hair from her face. “I knew I should’ve told you yesterday but there wasn’t time.”

“You’re a strange man in my house.” She scrambled to an upright position. “Get the fuck out.” Where in the hell were her purse and her mace?

“Penn.”

“You don’t know me.” She inched away from him. Instead of coming after her, the naked man sat still. “Now get out.”

“I do so know you, Penelope.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “Wait.” He grabbed a pillow to cover his crotch, then sat on the floor. “I know. Piss-poor timing to hide my junk. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “When you went to Hildegard’s to get a kitten, you were handed me. You didn’t know you wanted me until you saw the fluff on my ears. You loved that I had those funny tufts of fur.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, no.” The man knew too much about her cat. What a lunatic! She grabbed her purse and rummaged for the bottle of mace -- all without moving her attention from his face.

“You wondered why I hadn’t been nabbed yet.”

Shit. Those were just about her words exactly.

“Hildegard said I’d be exactly what you needed. I can be, but you have to believe me and trust me.” He finally moved toward her. “Please?”

“I’m supposed to believe a naked man in my house is my cat? Not on your life.” And yet, somewhere in her brain his story made sense.

“I’ll show you.” He closed his eyes. The joints in his body shrunk and popped. Hair sprouted from his shoulders and back. His ears elongated along with his teeth. When he opened his eyes, he’d morphed into a cat -- her cat.

“Oh, my God.” She sat rooted to the spot. “How? Why?”

The cat stood and flicked his tail, then climbed onto the couch with her. He closed his eyes, and his form changed again. His limbs grew and the hair evaporated. Muscles defined under his human skin and black hair flopped over his brow. He folded his hands over his crotch, then opened his eyes.

“Holy shit.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She knew what she’d seen, but she still didn’t believe.

“I’m a black cat shifter. I know -- you figured that out.” He snatched the pillow from the floor and covered some of his nudity. “I’m from a litter of four kittens. When you adopted me, my brother Godzilla had already gone. I’ve got two other brothers. As far as I know, they haven’t shifted, but since I can change at will maybe they can, too.”

She slumped in her seat. “I don’t… I… I never realized…” She couldn’t think. “This isn’t fair. My best friend was my cat. Now I find out my cat is really a guy. What’s next? I’ll find out I can change into something, too?”

“I doubt you can shift, but I’m sure you’re my mate.”

Chapter One

 

Down to his very soul he knew she belonged to him. Ascher longed to touch her and not just butt his head against her shin. He’d watched her so many times, waiting for this moment. Now that he’d told her his secret, the weight lifted from his shoulders. He liked the larger form. Liked being able to walk on two legs and not have hair all over. Most of all, he wanted to explore his feelings for Penelope. Watching her laugh, cry, cuddle with other men and fumble her way through life -- he wouldn’t have traded a moment, but he also wished he’d been the guy she cared for.

“I’m still your best friend, but I’ve got new benefits.” He reached for her. Not being able to touch her had been agony. “I know this is crazy, but try being me. I thought I’d never be able to shift.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I promise you, sweetheart, I will never hurt you.”

She sighed again. Her shoulders slumped a bit when she did. “I shouldn’t believe you. This can’t be real.” She tipped her head to the side. “But… it kind of makes sense. I always had the feeling you knew more than you let on.”

“I did.”

“It makes so much more sense why you insisted on watching me get undressed, too.” A tiny smile formed on her lips, then vanished. “Look. It’s more or less still Halloween, and black cats aren’t safe on these streets tonight. I’ve got the guest room. Stay there.” She rolled her eyes. “What am I saying? If you’re my cat, you’d know all about the guest room.”

“My room.” He grinned. When she didn’t pull her hand away, he stroked the backs of her knuckles with his thumb. “Thank you.”

“But if you come into my room tonight -- even as a cat -- I’ll whop you with the golf club.” She stood and tugged her hand from his grasp. “I’m still not sure of you.”

“Understood. But I don’t suppose you have something I can wear?” The very idea of clothing himself in any of her hot pink garments churned his stomach, but hell… he wasn’t going to stroll down to the corner market for clothes. The thought occurred to him -- did the corner market even sell clothes? Was there still a market on the corner? Fuck. He should’ve paid more attention when he was still with Hildegard.

BOOK: Cat Style (Stray Cats)
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