I walked out of Cowboys & Aliens mumbling to my husband, “Geez, I wish I’d written that.” Did I think the story was believable? Hey, every time I pick up a book or walk into a theater, I suspend my disbelief—so yeah, I bought into the whole enchilada. The cowboys were hot (Daniel Craig scintillatingly delicious, Harrison Ford weathered and still worth a second look), the scenery breathtaking, and the action non-stop. What’s not to like?
I don’t know if shifters qualify as aliens, lol. But even before I saw the movie, I was hooked on the idea of merging the Old West with paranormal. Emerging from a frenzy of note-making and an exploratory #sixsunday preview, I ended up writing my first shifter story that starts in a wolf hunt—only in my version, the wolves don’t die. J
Like a field commander at war, Old Lobo stood above, directing the attack from a rock shelf. Jake drew a bead on the animal and muttered, “Die you sonovabitch.”
Squinting upward, he pulled the trigger watching in satisfaction as his bullet found its mark. But instead of dropping where he stood, the big wolf staggered to the rocky edge, teetering there for a moment before tipping forward to plummet toward the ground.
As if saying goodbye, the wind cradled the body for a heartbeat. Then with a despairing moan it blew through the camp, scattering shards of smoldering embers, scorching Jake with avenging sparks, and tossing the wolf at him as he stumbled backward.
The attacking wolves dropped to their bellies. Their mournful howls were accompanied by the wind’s unholy promise of vengeance. Pinned beneath Old Lobo’s crushing weight Jake looked into the eyes of a demon and knew he was about to die.
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