The Chick Is In The Mail

And then he shook out the whip. He lashed at Shiba, the kind of feeble strike that would barely affect her through the bramble-guard, and which hit the horse right along with her.

Too much for any horse, even a good one-which this was not. It launched into a bucking protest, dislodging both Shiba and the smuggler.

Shiba landed on her feet. The smuggler, not as agile, rolled to a dazed stop on his stomach. Unlucky for him that he had clipped his long, scruffy hair at the back of his head. Unlucky. Just as he made the effort to prop himself up on his elbows, Shiba landed on his back, audibly driving the air from his lungs as she latched on to the trailing tail of hair. She braced her feet on his back and pulled. His head came up, the skin of his face stretched back and a squeak of protest in his throat. Sabre hobbled forward, stuck his nose in the man's face, and bellowed treed as loud as he could.

Which is exactly how Taliya and Tallon found them.

Sabre shifted his awkwardly splinted leg and woofed to let Taliya know they had visitors. Tallon and Shiba, as of course had been the case every day since Tallon had carried Sabre back to this cabin-with the help of a sling made from the smuggler's shirt, for no man carries a densely boned, muscle-packed linehound far without help, not even a lineman trying to impress a linewoman. And once the smuggler was secured, and Sabre's hurts tended, Taliya seemed quite impressed indeed.

Now she came out of the cabin, raising a hand in greeting as Tallon and Shiba broke through the trees surrounding their cabin. Tallon went to Sabre first-wise man-offering a treat of dried meat; Sabre accepted it delicately between his front teeth and swallowed it whole.

He was learning to wag his bottom instead of his broken tail.

Shiba sniffed Sabre's toes-still his-and sat nearby while Tallon went to greet Taliya. He seemed to have some sort of treat for her, too, although it didn't smell like dried meat. Nothing important, then. Sabre would have ignored them altogether if the strange magicsmell hadn't filled the air. He'd finally realized the truth of it the day before-when this same thing had happened yet again.

The magic wasn't Tallon. It wasn't Taliya. It was something that happened when the two of them came together, and he was critter-bedamned if he could understand why.

But it did make Taliya happy. And it made her not happy when Sabre fussed about it, and especially when he jumped on Tallon, so though it tore at his linehound sense of duty, he was willing to ignore the magicsmell. For her.

Shiba seemed to have come to the same conclusion. Though her eyes glinted and her nose flared at the scent of it, she turned her back on the humans-why did they lean so close to one another, anyway?-and sniffed Sabre's toes again, her long, graceful ears brushing his feet.

Ooh, that itch again. Where-he nibbled his side-not there-and lifted a hind foot to his ear-not there-and tried desperately to reach the spot under his splinted front leg-no, not there-and then noticed that Shiba had engaged herself in the same sort of frustrated exercise. She twisted herself around, trying to reach the loose skin directly over her spine, that glossy black fur twitching with her efforts…

Mesmerized, Sabre gave up on his own scratching and reached over to nibble the spot for her. To his utter astonishment, his own vague prickling sensations instantly vanished. Shiba regarded him in momentary surprise, then-still twisted around-she solemnly cleaned his face with her tongue.

It seemed he'd finally found the right bitch to scratch.

Foxy Boxer Gal Fights Giant Monster King! by Pierce Askegren

"So this is Japan," Je

Teruhisha smiled. They were seated beneath the sign of the golden arches and looking out through spotless windows at busy downtown Tokyo. Some of the local residents, mostly men, were looking back in, and Je

That was understandable; even sitting down, Je

She was a redhead, with fair skin and green eyes, and a great body that put her a full head taller than most men. Right now, she was eating her second sandwich and watching Teruhisha work on his meal, which had been something of a surprise. Je

"I am so pleased you are enjoying yourself, then," Teruhisha said, positively beaming. He spoke American that was almost perfect, with only the faintest accent. Sometimes he used words that Je

Je

Je

"I am very glad you have decided to stay in our city, after the match," Teruhisha continued, as if Je

"Not much else to do," Je

Four days before, she had come here to defend her title. Instead, she had lost the Lady Prizefighter Amazon Class World Championship to an unpleasant bit of baggage from California, a peroxide blonde with more plastic parts than a Barbie doll. The match had been heavily publicized, globally televised, so viewers on five continents had seen her go down in defeat. The day after that, her manager had decided that he liked blonde wi

Now, there didn't seem to be any real reason to hurry home.

"That may be so," Teruhisha said, cheerful and oblivious. "But there is so much for you here! Why, in Tokyo alone-"

Je

Before she could even try to change the subject, however, something else did. It was a low, wailing shriek, a siren howl from outdoors so penetrating that Je

Teruhisha turned pale. From a pocket, he pulled what looked like a cell phone. He spoke into it, gesturing curtly at Je

The sirens still wailed. Looking past Teruhisha, Je