If you follow me on Facebook, you probably know I adore animals and have my own fur baby collection. So it was extra fun when I was writing Wild Thing to center the plot on a dog who plays matchmaker between two onetime lovers. Wild Thing brings together a frustrated P.I., a dog groomer and a kidnapped pup named name is Medusa, and unlike the pretty Chinese Crested in the photo here, my dog’s hair was worn in dreadlocks. Hmm, I think its better to let you get the idea for yourself- here’s our hero, Percy’s, first look at Medusa:
Microsoft Word – BLAZE688B.doc
Percy glanced over to share a grin and see how Andrea had held up in the rush to get out of there. Before he could read her face, though, the dog on her lap caught his gaze. Holy shit. He did a double take. It was just as ugly at second glance.
“What the hell is that?”
Andrea cuddled the growling dog closer, rubbing her cheek over its hairlss little face. The tiny body trembled against her. He could tell it was trembling because it was naked. As in, no hair. Just pink-and-black spotted skin.
Afraid he’d damage his car, Percy pulled over to the side of the road. With his forearm resting on the steering wheel, the loud rumble of the big block engine shaking the car in time with the dog’s shivers, he turned to get a better look.
“That son of a bitch. What’d he do, shave it? We must’ve interrupted him before he could get the rest of it.” Percy squinted, wondering what the dog had looked like with all its hair. “Maybe he was figuring it’d be a disguise or something. Like a rat.”
“Medusa is a Chinese crested,” Andrea said stiffly. “This is what she’s supposed to look like.” “Scary ugly?”
He understood Andrea’s heated glare. But the dog’s? Percy winced, pulling his sunglasses out of the center console to dim the impact. That was a turn-a-guy-to-stone glare coming out of those beady black eyes.
“Why’s it giving me a dirty look?”
“You just insulted her. What’d you expect? Puppy love?”
“It’s not like she can understand.”
Andrea gave him a dismissive look, then turned her attention to the rat with wings for ears. “Poor baby, she’s been through such an ordeal,” she crooned, her fingers rubbing between those bat-like ears until the dog quit its death stare. “You need to say something nice now, to make her feel better.”
“Something nice?” He’d have laughed, but Andrea looked serious. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in talking to dogs. Hey, they were some of the best listeners he’d ever met. But this thing?
He gave the animal—he wasn’t calling it a dog until someone showed him proof that it was one—another questioning glance. Long silky hair sprouted all around those big ole ears and off its legs like it was wearing ugly boots. It had a tail, and there was hair on that. But the top of its head looked like a mop. Instead of silky tufts, the long white hair was all bunched together in dreadlocks. Vintage Madonna meets Bob Marley.
“Well? You have to at least say hello to her. She’s scared and needs to know you’re not a threat,” Andrea challenged. He switched his gaze to her, liking the look of her face a lot better. Then he noted the tightness around her eyes and the white tinge to her lips. She was scared. Some of that trembling was her fingers, he realized.
Damn. With a grimace, he gave the dog another look.
“Hi, Medusa,” he said. Then, because he prided himself on being a man who knew how to charm the ladies, present company excepted, and because he hoped it’d score points with the now- glaring Andrea, he reached over to rub one finger between the dog’s ears. “Aren’t you a special girl. And look at that hair. I’ll bet you wow them on your date Monday.”
That was it. The best he could come up with.
Gotta love that pup! What do you think? Are you a fan of pets in plots?