Racing Time Chapter 8



He jumps when the man speaks but holy gods. The man is totally delicious. He cannot help the way the man gets him hard as a rock. And speaking of this rock, he knows he doesn’t belong here. The big apple is not for men like Armand. Not him. And not his men. But he figures they might as well have their fair share of fun while they can.

“You could say that,” Armand replies.

“I know. The place stinks like ass, filth, and degradation,” the man adds.

“Yeah really.”

“But I don’t get much of an option. I work there.”

At that moment, Armand starts coughing as though he has been choking on something. And he was. A piece of gum he was given by Clyde before they headed into the club.

Not that it matters much.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not,” the guy says and holds out his hand. “Damien.”

“Armand,” he replies and shakes the hand. Once he lets go, his body almost misses touching Damien.

“What is a bite of stud like you doing out here so last, huh?” Damien asks, flashing a smile. Canines. Is he a were?

The idea of it plays with his mind and soon almost consumes the attention span he has. No. he cannot do it. Cannot handle it at this point. The last thing he needs is a relationship and to another being that is not like himself.

Fuck he hates this. Hates how things can get. But he knows it is how it is. Nothing ever changes.

“Just hanging out with my crew. Thinking about leaving the big apple.”

“Can I see you one more time before you go?” Damien asks.



A few days later, Nettie heads to the little bar made of bamboo walls and strong wood structure and parks her ass on the first stool she sees.

“What can I get you sweetheart?” a strong male voice asks. She looks up to find a familiar pair of eyes looking at her. Of course it’s fallen angel boy.

Clyde has a knack for showing up at the next to worst of times but she is slowly learning to deal with it.

“A sweet tea would be nice,” she says.

“Long island coming right up,” he says and walks off. He is wearing a pair of tight leather pants that hug his ass. The same ass she has bounced a quarter off of only to have it land back in her hand. God he has a nice one. Her mind travels to holding onto it while he thrusts into her. Giving her that much pleasure and then some. She wants it at that moment. Wants to drag him into the back and give him what she desires so much but at this point, she figures it is best to just leave things be.

Once he returns, she is about to ask him a question but he holds a finger to his lips. Going quiet at that moment, she watches as he heads over to a couple in the corner and whips out two guns.

He points one to each of their heads. “Hands up, stand up, and don’t try anything funny. Not unless you wanna suffer blood loss.”

“What did we do?” one asks.

She is shocked at how he is being. How ballsy he is being. It kinda turns her on. Gets her folds a soaking if you get her drift.

“You are in violation of your location. You have five seconds to either vacate the premises and get back to where you belong or I will be forced to get violent on your asses,” he says.

She shivers as she watches the people fade into dark dust and disappear. He heads back to her.

“Now where were we?”



…is surprised when their lips actually connect. The kisses are sensual, sexy, and hot. He is surprised when things get hotter and hotter. Before long, Hank is straddling his lap, kissing him deeper. Hotter. Tasting every part of him.

God he loves this. Has never tasted a man like he is tasting Hank but to hell with that. He wants it all.

“Do you want me to stop?” hank asks.

God only knows he wants to say no keep going but he has to throw up walls and boundaries.

“I think we should stop. I don’t want things to go too fast and for us to end up regretting it later on.”

“That’s very wise and noble of you,” Hank replies and climbs back into his chair.

“Thanks. I just think we should spend some time together.”

He doesn’t wanna mention he doesn’t have much longer to live before he is gonna pass on. That’s the unfortunate truth of being a koala shifter. Another year or so and he is gone.

Before too long he will be gone. While that is depressing, it is his calling card to get to enjoying life. To change things out. And he knows that more than anything.

For the rest of the afternoon, they sit back sipping at beers and once those are gone, they jump to sodas. Just another Sunday for them.


The next day, Cordell heads to work and talks to the customers as he rings up their stuff. Time waits for no one. And at the end of his shift, he heads out to see Hank leaning on his car.

“Can I help you?” he asks Hank.

“Yes. I owe you an apology,” Hank replies.

“Nope. Don’t apologize. We were seizing the moment. And now…now I owe you a date and a dinner.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Hank says.

“Then I guess we aren’t a couple yet.”

He watches Hank’s eyes get huge in shock. “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“That we are a couple. Hell to the yeah.”

A tear slides down Hank’s cheek.

Racing Time Chapter 7



When he thinks about it, Armand knows it is time to dig down to the roots. What is wrong with them? Moving into and adapting into human culture. Sure they look human and act it sometimes but they are centaurs. Warriors that need the freedom. The air to run around, taste, and use for them as they fight to the best of their abilities.

Craving a wicked alcoholic beverage, he and his crew head out to the local bar. Once inside, he notices the place is packed. So they back up and head off to another one. Not a good place. Then another. And another. It just never seems to be an endless bit of gods dammit.

He finally gets to a dong and titty bar on the edge of the city and they sit down. He puts in his order and starts handing off 10s to the women and 20s to the dudes. The guys are rather hot. Working it in a man thong. Showing off their bulges through the small fabric of spaces. Tucking the dollar bills into their waistlines and near their asses as they dance. Handing the female dancers, 10s to put into their cleavage while they dance.

And while most of his centaur crew are ogling the chicks, he and Cyril are ogling the dudes. Watching as they twerk, grind, and dance their way into making over 100 dollars each.

“This is hot shit,” Cyril says.

“Yep,” Armand replies watching the dancer work his stuff. But after a bit, he needs some air. Some fresh air. Not air full of stank. That shit is just nasty. Too much stank and it’s like bathing in cologne and inhaling stale cigar smoke.

After the dancer heads off, he steps outside and takes in the air. In a surprise, he finds himself not alone. The city air is rather nice. Tasteful. Somewhat clean. At least where they are.

He turns his head and jumps when he spots a stud in an open trench coat and a thong leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette.

“Needing air?” the guy asks.



The fuck is her brother doing here? How the hell did he find her?

“What the hell do you want Sly?” she asks.

“Just watching the show. He does have a nice ass. Give me five minutes alone with him and I’ll be feeling better,” Sylvester says.

“Five minutes? That’s being a little generous isn’t it?” she asks nodding to his crotch.

“Don’t push it. I’m just supposed to be sending you a message,” Sly growls.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Cause hell or be ready to fight,” he replies and flashes a smile. Clearly he is ready to draw blood from her. And clearly she doesn’t give a flying fuck to start with. He is always ready for battle.

“Why cane Selene deliver the message herself? Why do you let her use you like Zeus uses Hermes?”

“Don’t call me messenger boy. Don’t call me Hermes. That selfish son of a bitch deserves the world of Tartarus. Especially with what he is up to these days,” Sylvester snaps.

“Like what?” she asks in attempt to distract him from the task at hand.

“Don’t go there. Don’t get me started on drama and gossip. It’s bullshit that you do what Selene does. Gods dammit stop using my flaws against me. It’s shameful and weak.”

With the last word his eyebrows go up before dropping down.

“So what does she want me to do? Burn a place down? That’s not my power. That’s a phoenix’s job.”

“Hell you could spread disease if you want,” he says. “I don’t give a shit. Just do something and soon. Otherwise she might bring more shit heading your way. Got it?”

At that point, he walks out the door, unfurls his wings and flies off.



After getting a job as a cashier for the local supermarket and getting his first chest, Cordell finds himself getting a bit comfortable. Not a good thing but not a bad thing too.

And the more Hank comes around the more he begins to take a shine to him. Fucking hell. Things can never just be simple for once. Not when they get started. But now…now he has to worry about things.

He doesn’t go to Sunday service because for some reason he isn’t welcome into the church—rat bastards. Sitting back at home on Sunday—his first day off—he sips at a beer and occasional raises the bottle up to praise god before sipping at it.

The screen door opens and slams shut. He grabs his gun and trains it to the only doorway, waiting to see who it is. Never know who he can and cannot trust at this point.

When he sees Hank he lowers the gun and leans it against the wall again. Back to its place. “Can I join you?”

“Not going to the service?” he asks Hank.

“Not a church-y kind of guy,” Hank replies.

Opening his mini fridge, Cordell grabs another beer for himself and pulls one out for Hank. They sit back in the recliners with the mini fridge between them, rocking back and forth, shooting the shit and sipping at their beers.

And Hank’s not exactly bad looking. Dirty thoughts start roaming through his head. Making him wanna do what he has been wanting to do. When Hank brings the bottle opening to his lips, Cordell finds himself jealous. It gets to touch those lips and he doesn’t. The fucking kind of torture is that.

And when he thinks about it, he knows it is about time something happens between them. After all, they have known each other for about a week or so. Long enough to find out if chemistry truly exists or if it isn’t shit.

Leaning to Hank, he curls his finger. “I have a secret for you.”

Hank leans over, getting closer and closer to him. Close enough for some lip lock action. Sometimes it is best to wait though. But he…

Racing Time Chapter 6



Accepting what has to happen and what needs to happen, Armand finally lays down on the recliner and passes out asleep. Waking up, he blinks his way back to sight. After using the bathroom, he heads down to the lobby and heads out the door on his own. The others are still in the room. God only knows what could happen at this point. Stretching out his arms and legs, he heads over to the corner store and grabs a twelve pack of chocolate milk. After paying for them with a tap of his card, he heads back to the lobby and goes right back up.

The day is new and he is knows how bad things can get. The elevator stops halfway up and just breaks down. Quickly he steps out and watches as it drops to the bottom. Someone cut the fucking rope. Either that or it was bound to break in the first place.

Heading to the steps, Armand jogs his way up the steps and to the floor he has to himself. Well to himself and his crew. His nine brothers now. Thank god for finding those others. Someone has to take care of them. And it might as well be him.

In the meantime, he figures it is time to get their asses in gear. It’s time to put their two sense into everything. Figuring things out is what he does best. Sitting back after getting to the room, he catches his breath.

“I have milk here. Get it now or let it go to shit. I don’t care.”

“What’s wrong?” Cyril asks.

“Too much on my mind.”

“Talk to me about it.”



“Never let the fear of you hurting me keep you from doing what you wanna do,” Clyde says as he looks at Nettie. She understands that but she worries she is not ready for it. After all they have only seen each other a short time.

“I just don’t wanna ruin what we have,” she says simply.

“Don’t worry about it. Go for it. Do what you wanna do. For Christ sake you bounced a quarter on my ass and got to spank me a little bit. Got to touch my butt even. I want you to do whatever you wanna do. I don’t mind. Just let me know so I can help you out.”

He is smart about such things. But men that are often open about such things only make her nervous. As though they have an ulterior motive. Is he in the closet and just experimenting?

Nothing wrong with that if he is she just doesn’t wanna end up going all the way and ending up in a heartbreak. She has read novels about stuff like that. And her heart is fragile. She couldn’t handle something like that. It would be the death of her.

And the more she thinks about it the more she begins to realize it’s time to step back and spend some time alone. To figure things out.

“Thanks for the support but I need to be alone for a few days,” she says.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

She nods.

“Okay then,” he says and gets dressed. Moments later, he heads out the door. Turning around, she watches him go and when the door closes, she drops to her knees and cries.

Cries so many tears it begins to hurt her heart. Wondering what she can do anymore, she begins to think she is her own worst enemy.

“Sad shame you didn’t go after him. He’s pretty cute,” says a familiar voice. A male voice. She stops her tears and looks up after blinking the tears away.

“Who are you?”

“You don’t remember your own brother after all this time?”



He sits in his car and wonders what the hell he is doing here. He doesn’t belong here. He needs to get out of here.

Heading out of New York, he goes to Maine. A small town that has almost no one there. Once there, he finds a simple house. One that gives him the somewhat comfort of being safe. A small town on the hill at the edge of the middle of nowhere.

Good enough for him. When he pulls up to the single story house, he climbs out of his car and locks it. Walking up the pathway, he notices a man on the porch, sitting there, swinging his key chain with more than what looks like ninety keys. How the hell someone can have so many keys and keep up with them is beyond him.

And when he thinks about it, he realizes it is well beyond his understanding to give a damn about such things when he doesn’t know the person. Just his curiosity beginning to go overboard. Nothing more or less for that matter.

“What can I do for you?” the man asks.

“I’m looking for a place to call my own.”

“Do you mind small towns?”

“Sure don’t mind them. I used to live in one. Decided I needed a new view. Being in one place for so long doesn’t work out for me.”

“What makes you wanna live in this town?”

“It’s small, its quaint, and its cozy. That’s all I want.”

“I have a few houses I can show you.”

“Sounds good. I’ll follow you,” Cordell says.

The man nods and holds out his hand. “I’m Hank.”

“Cordell,” he answers and takes the man’s hand. They shake before heading to their vehicles.

After what seems like three hours later, he looks at the house options and signs the paperwork for the second house. A house at the tip top of the hill. Or rather one on the edge. He likes to live dangerously.

Plus it could be fun.

When he gets the keys, he watches the man walk off. Kinda cute.

Racing Time Chapter 5



Upon arriving to New York, Armand and his crew settle into a nice condo. He buys the top story of the condo complex and they settle back. What more can they do? After all, they need a place to stay and money is nothing to him. There is a good amount of it that comes around. Sitting back in a recliner, he watches out the window as people party it up. Some of them get violent enough to start a fight and duke it out the way they always do.

But the fight doesn’t last long after that. Figuring out what he could do next, he knows it is about time things start working out. About time he finds someone and settle down. Cyril’s a good candidate. And he’s hot too. But what would be the point at this point? He hasn’t a clue what he wants to do.

He hates how this is turning out. Hates that his men are sitting back while war is starting. He is never one to stick at the sidelines but dammit this is one of those times he needs to sit back and figure things out.

What can a man do at this point?

Nothing really.

The more he thinks about it the more it begins to frustrate him. Time and time again he has always been fighting to defend himself and his people. Always been one step ahead and for the first time he is behind. And that bothers him so much.

Before too long, he realizes it is time for him to truly relax. Too long has been wearing himself out. Too long has hell been hurting him. Beating him down. Just like his father did in his past.

Thinking about what his dad did makes his body hurt.



Nervously, she walks over and pulls a quarter from her purse. Staring at him in a pushup position, she admires the perfect globes of his butt. How strong they look. How hot. God she wants to smack them just to say she has touched them.

“You can do it after you test your theory,” he says. He is so bold. So hot. So amazing. She wonders what could happen between them next. Dropping a quarter, she finds it does in fact bounce off his ass. Perfect.

“Yeah,” she exclaims and smacks that ass. Then to her surprise, she finds herself drawn to it again. To touch it. Reaching down, she runs her hand along each cheek, savoring in the softness and smoothness. Not a hair in sight. And yet his chest, his arms, his legs are all hairy.

Surprise, surprise. He just doesn’t stop surprising her at every turn. Maybe it is time for her to figure out what she wants to do. The more she touches them the more she wants to reach under, to take his cock into her hands.

Stop it, she chastises herself. It’s just a fallen angel. It’s not like he is hung like a horse.

She looks at his face and spots a large smile on his face.

“So you are thinking about what sex between us will be like are you?” he asks.

Damn him. He knows her every thought. Her every motion. And a part of her is creeped out by it. The rest of her is turned on by it. What is wrong with her? She is a harpy and he is a fallen angel.

Even if they are to have sex, she worries that she might hurt him. That he might be able to heal himself the way of Wolverine—the character from X-men.



As soon as he comes to the big apple of the US, he thinks about what more he can do. What more he wants to do. He has stopped and seen the sights. The beauty of the world and all its holy shit.

The more he thinks about it the more he wonders if the tallest buildings still exist. Pulling over at the park, he locks up his car and pockets his wallet in his front pocket. That way if someone tries to steal it, he can break its arm.

He is aware of how some people can get. Over and over again he has dealt with assholes. And now that he is in the world he begins to wonder what he wants to do next. Bring out his camera, probably not. Not the safest place in the world. After putting things in their place, he turns back around and starts walking around.

Watching people steal cars and ram them into buildings only to turn around and do it again with other vehicles. And in his mind, he figures this is just how people are. This is just normal. Perfectly normal.

Maybe law enforcement will handle this.

To his surprise, he sees cops flying by the park, and run into buildings. People drop and roll from the cars only to see them explode into the buildings.

Maybe not.

Turns out it’s not cops. People are turning into freaky assholes. No one is acting normal. It’s like someone is imputing control chips into bodies and making people going wild.

The more he looks around the more thankful he is that he has his car locked up. And no one can mess with the car. The windows are shatterproof. The tires are locked into the ground.

Suddenly his car alarm goes off, he rushes over to his car to find someone trying to break into it. They have a crowbar in their hands. He runs at them but they swing the crowbar. He ducks, narrowly being missed.

He turns and jumps kicking them in the face. Pinning their asses on the ground, he repeatedly punches them. “You. Don’t. Fuck. With. My. Shit. Little. Boy. Got. It?” he says between punches.

The boy nods and cries like a little bitch.

Sad shame people like this exist. And at the same time, he starts to miss home.

Racing Time Chapter 4



It takes the better part of a week and over nine times of filling up the gas tank but he makes it happen. His crew of five are now in the vehicle. A bit of a tight fit really. Maybe he should upgrade to an SUV at least. More space, less cramming.

Yeah. That might be a good option. Stopping in Arizona–just eighty miles from where he picked up the last person–he heads to a dealership and trades in the muscle car they are in for a van. A large van with three rows of seats.

Makes it a hell of a lot easier. Plus he drives off the lot with a good eight thousand dollars in his pocket. Makes it a lot better to pay for things when he’s not using the card the whole damn time.

The five of them head their way east to Texas. While he drives, they  scroll through the music channels and finally find something. Sadly it’s the music of the eighties. So they get to singing along with it and when push comes to shove, things get better and better.

The whole time Armand wonders what they are gonna do next. There have been a good hundreds of places they have been picked on. Maybe it’s time for them to hit the Northeast. To be near the cities and put things on the line. Balls to the wall and all that shit. Yeah. He likes the thought of that. And in the meantime, he wonders what he can do anymore.

Not much they can do other than defend themselves. And he knows when they get to places like New York all they can do is defend themselves. But that is a few days away. The only he can do is just drive. Drive for a good while.



“What are you doing here?” she asks him. He smiles at her.

“I told you I would come see you again. I hope you didn’t think I was lying to you. After all, I’m a man of my word.”

She watches him furl up his wings and tuck them into his back. It is only a matter of time before they get intimate. And oh does she crave that moment. Yes. She wants it so much.

But for now they must be wary. God only knows what it is gonna take for things to come together just right. And when that happens, she is gonna be ready. “May I come in?” he asks.

She nods and steps aside. When he walks past her, she smells the deep scent of cologne and pheromones. They make her nipples harden and her breath catch in her throat.

Strange. She has been on a date with this guy, talked with him, found herself attracted to him and yet she doesn’t know his name at all.

“Javon. My name’s Javon,” he says out of random. As though he can read her mind. Boy he is rocking her world. Surprising her at every turn. And as she turns, she spots a hint at that curvy perfect butt of his. So taut. She could bounce a quarter of that thing.

“Care to try?” he asks. There he goes again. Surprising her.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Care to try and bounce a quarter off my ass?” he asks.

Wow. He is bold. And apparently he can read her mind.

“Not read it. Hear it. That’s the way of mating around here. No matter what breed or species, the perfect person or mate for someone can hear the other’s thoughts as though someone is speaking their mind.”

“Good to know,” she says and smiles.

She wonders what could happen next. To her surprise, just as she closes the door, she turns to find him dropping his pants. “What the hell are you doing?” she asks.

“I want you to taste your theory.”

Again. Bold.



“I’m resigning my position and moving away,” Cordell tells the mayor.

“Why? You are the best damn sheriff we’ve ever had,” the mayor says.

“Yes but I wanna do things in life. I wanna see the rest of the world. Not just the same old stuff every day. I’m growing rather tired of that. Just let me be.”

“Where will you go?” Mayor asks.

“Don’t worry about it. But I will be leaving tomorrow.”

“Okay,” the mayor says, resigning to the fact he will not win this conversation.

Turning around, Cordell heads out the door and back to the house. Once home, he packs his few bags and stays one last night in bed. God only knows it’s a matter of time before he’s back on the road. Cannot wait to drive that car of his on an actual highway. To see the world for what it is.

About damn time that happens too. He doesn’t have much longer. Before long, morning gives way and he is out the door. No more of that house. It’s a nice house just too plain. No pool. No neighbors that wanna come over for parties.

Maybe he could head west. Head to places like Arizona or New Mexico. Why not? Or maybe he should head to the northeast like New York?

New York calls to him more. So why not head to the big apple? Starting up his car, he drives to the gas station and fills up the tank before heading off to the northeast.

God only knows what will happen but he knows it will take the better part of a week. Hells yeah. Time to live the good life. He has more than enough money going on in his pocket and in a safety box. One that will never be opened unless he puts in the code. And it’s not one of those codes that is easy to get in. After all, it takes a matter of his fingerprint and then some eye scanning.

Lucky enough, he feels to have it. And as he drives, he jams to the tunes.

The future lies ahead. Only a matter of time before everything gets lively.

And interesting.

Racing Time Chapter 3


(I wanna apologize as i was on vacation yesterday otherwise i would have put it up right away. Here you go!)


Nothing ever stays the same. Armand knows that. And as he and his crew rush off to the next forest, he begins to wonder what its gonna take to kill the arsonists of the world. Those dark, foreboding, drunken sons of bitches just won’t leave him alone.

The more he and his crew run the more he begins to wonder if it is time to take their asses down. That sounds like a grand fucking plan, he thinks to himself.

Turning to Cyril he nods to him in respect. It is what they are fond of doing to each other. After that, he speaks up. “I have an idea,” he says.

“What would that be, Armand?” Cyril asks.

“I wanna have us face them instead of running off. We have lived too long and done too much work to keep on running. It’s time to get shit going right. We must fight and protect ourselves. Hell, we have been around for more than a thousand years. It’s time to take a stand and fight.”

“But we are just five people. We would need a lot more people.”

“Then I will send four people off to go find more to aid us in our fight,” he says.

“Fine. But I don’t like being away from you,” Cyril says.

“Trust in your leader. I know what I am doing.”

“I certainly hope so,” Cyril says. The four others head off to go gather more centaurs. It will take days but he knows just how to handle it.

Stepping into a hotel, he swipes his card and gets a room or the night. Once inside, he takes a shower and cleans off. How the hotels are unaffected is beyond him.

But they are happening. Good luck with that, he thinks. Once done in the shower, he dries off and heads to the bed. A good night’s rest not covered in dust, dirt, and other shit is in order.


The next morning, he showers once more. His night and sleep have been filled with feverish nightmares. Wolves tearing his men apart, vampires, draining them of their blood. And witches burning them at the stake. This worries him so. Has him waking up screaming after a little while. Fucking hell!

Getting out the door after dropping his key off to the room, he heads off and hops into a car he has bought from a used dealer. Taking it to an open field on the edge of town, he gets to work on cleaning it, fixing it. Taking and making good work of it. Once done, it is a lot better.

Works a lot better. No more problems for him.

After filling up the car, he drives off to find his four men. It takes days but he manages to find Cyril.

He pulls over and Cyril climbs in. “How did you know where I am?” Cyril asks.

“I could sense it.”

Cyril smiles.



She moves off to the south and finds a house in the exotic lands. Large tree houses are pricy but for one such as her, it’s no problem. Putting it on her infinite card given to her by the gods, she pays for the house and moves right in with her two bags.

Heading out that afternoon, she unfurls her wings and flies off. It takes a good half hour but she finds and gathers food. Once back, she puts the large amount of fish, fruit, and such into her fridge. Once that is done, she flies to the edge of the woods and walks into town.

Gathering a couple bags, she gathers what she wants from the market and pays them. Once done, she heads back to her place and gets things moved in.

It takes a while but once she is comfortable, she decides on a walk. This day is so exhausting but she doesn’t care at this point. She is in the south. She lives by her own rules. And maybe, just maybe, nothing bad will happen here. She isn’t sure just how much longer she can handle moving around.

It is time to just get settled down. To figure shit out and move on with her life. What else can she do? Nothing else comes to mind.

Days later, she heads out and takes in the new day. Nothing can stop her from being herself. Birds land on the railings of her house and she pets them—at least the ones she can—and enjoys the view of the others. Snapping photos, she makes use of her camera.

A camera she has been waiting to use for so long. And once she has all the pictures she can take, she unfurls her wings and gets into the air. Flying and landing on top of large thick trees is nothing to her. Using her height to her advantage, she snaps photos out the wazoo. And once she is done, she heads back down to her home.

That night, she cooks up some fruit after cutting it up and hears something land on her porch. Strange. She doesn’t remember ever giving access for someone to get to her home.

Opening the door, she spots him standing there. The handsome stud that has fallen from the heavens. And he is just so yummy his wings look particularly beautiful. He has on a pair of tight jeans that show off that butt of his. And no shirt. A part of her wants to lick at those pecks. Keep them hard and that body rigid.

Maybe she will.



This godforsaken town is getting on his nerves. Day after day he goes to work, catches the same thirty one bad guys and heads home. And as he goes to bed at midnight every night he has to accept they are being released because Christ forbid the judge finds holding a man or woman all night in jail to be just so wrong.

It’s a crock of shit. The judge is just as corrupt as everyone else. It just makes him so sick to do the same shit over and over again. He is good and ready to live the fucking life he wants to. He wants to run around and do what he wants when he wants to.

But that’s not the case. That’s not the real world and yet the real world is a bunch of shit. At least this town is. He would rather be risking his life—putting it in danger—to live rather than to catch the sons of bitches and letting them go like a catch and release fishing trip. Fun at first boring as hell after doing it day in and day out. Sitting back at the house that night eating at his pork steak, he begins to wonder why this town is stuck in the fifties. The hell is going on?

Why is it this shit every single day?

He is not sure how much longer he can handle this fucking trash. It is such a proverbial fuck you. It makes him wonder what’s going on. But since he is back home, he wonders more about Lochlan. The man is beautiful. Has soft hands.

As soon as he’s done with dinner, he heads out to the front porch for a smoke. He needs his cigarettes even though they shorten his life big time. But at this point he doesn’t care.

He has been around and a koala shifter for the past thirteen years. And at best, he might live to be thirty five. But he wants to do something about it. Something meaningful in his life.

The hell is a man like him gonna do? Despite his age, he looks to be in his thirties. And at the rate thing are going, he is bound to die in the next three years. He takes care of himself but he wears himself out.

And that is what tears him apart. Brings him closer to death. He doesn’t wanna die but it is bound to happen.

Will it happen?

Only time will tell.

about the next installment of Racing Time


for those that wanna keep an eye out for the next installment it will be a bit delayed. i am planning on writing one every 3 days and i will be on vacation on the 16th so it might be late that night or up the next day but i promise to get it up as soon as possible.

just thought i would let you know.

i wanna thank Bailey Bradford, Morticia Knight, Shorty Chelle and others that have encouraged me to go for this chapter by chapter installment plan. it is working out beautifully and it is expanding the horizons.

who knows? it might end up bringing novels out of me.