Monday, May 30, 2016


Happy Memorial Day! Answering my own question, from Solara’s blog: yes, I think there may be shifters willing to serve their country. In a snippet from my WIP, human Roy and his horse-shifter buddy Dale wait for the cops to show up so they can report a case of vandalism at Roy’s garage. They down a couple beers and Dale tells Roy about his family’s history …

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The sun went down, streetlights snapped on. Roy didn’t bother to switch on the showroom lights. They sat in the growing dark and watched the town’s lack of nightlife through the windows. No one strolled past on the sidewalk. Cars shot by above the speed limit. One of these was a police cruiser. Roy swore at its receding taillights and reached for another beer.

So did Dale. “Tolja,” he said. “You being Mike’s buddy won’t win you any points now that you been outed. Neither will you being Army. Were you Army? I thought I heard that somewhere.”

“Yeah, I was Army. How about you?”

“Not me, but members of the herd, past and present. What?” he said in response to what must have been one helluvan incredulous look on Roy’s face. “We’re Americans too, y’know. We want to do our part. I’ve got three relatives who are New York cops. Two on two feet, one on four. We’ve pulled fire wagons and run mail for the Pony Express. We fought in the Civil War. Cavalry, mostly. The combustion engine pretty much put us out of business there, but not all the way. One’a my great-uncles flew a bomber in World War II.” He raised his beer bottle triumphantly. “You monkeys wouldn’t even have a history if it wasn’t for us horses. We’re the best friends you ever had.”

“I thought that was dogs.”

“Huhn. Let’s see you ride a dog into battle. That reminds me, my great-great-grandpa claimed he’d been at the Little Big Horn with Custer. Saved his ass by switching sides and shapes when he saw how the fight was going. Spent a year as some Sioux warrior’s horse before he cut loose and came home and went human again. We always figured he was making it all up, though.”

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