When I first saw the #1lineWed THEME for today, I wanted to turn cartwheels. I didn’t because…reasons. LOL But I wanted to. **FERAL** How perfect is that? It’s a word I use often to describe my Wolves. Once again, I’ve come up brain dead on whether I’ve shared this snippet or not but I can saw that it’s been edited and that I added a bit to the scene. Devlin O’Reilly is turning into one of my favorite characters. His still waters do run deep–as do his feelings. This snippet is fairly self-explanatory but I will add that Tommy Gallagher has been…targeted, shall we say, by the Wolves and Devlin is on his trail.
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Devlin did not have to be in his wolf form to recognize the sound of a hard fist slamming into flesh. The need to protect the woman roared through him in a fierce tide that was feral in its intensity. His palms burned as he retracted his claws. Control. He was quickly loosing it and as much as he’d enjoy letting his other half out to hunt their prey, he couldn’t. It wasn’t time yet.

Still furious, Devlin followed his target, his wolf’s claws now sheathed just enough to keep his anger in check. He’d overheard the argument out there on the street. How did the neighbors not? Why did they do nothing? That was the thought process belonging to the wild side of him. Human logic laid it out in stark black and white—the bastard was a cop. She was his wife. No one wanted to get involved. So they ignored it. The sound of flesh on flesh and the sharp, painful cry that followed echoed in his psyche. He had a job and it hadn’t been breaking into that house to make sure the pretty woman who lived there was okay.

So now he watched the sleazeball harass the girls working the stroll on Kneeland Street from his hidden position. The arse was an infinite tool. It wasn’t a question of who or how. No, it was simply a question of when. Tommy Gallagher was a dead man walking. Because Devlin would kill the corrupt cop and feel not an ounce of guilt. He would someday soon put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes, and do it happily, with a smile on his face. Fitting that would be the last thing the bastard saw.

Gallagher crowded a few working girls against the wall of a building and leered at them. As one of them turned to leave, he grabbed the prostitute’s ass as she tried to squeeze past him and Dev tensed. Not yet. He couldn’t end the asshole yet. Not until Ronan and Brian gave the go-ahead. They had a plan in place and taking matters into his own hands would only screw things up. So he watched. And waited. And bid his time.

His thoughts turned to Gallagher’s wife. She’d be better off without him but did she love him so much that she wouldn’t leave him? They’d been married in the Church and she went to mass every Sunday. Dev knew this because he followed her too. So was it that whole until death do they part thing? Is that what kept her with him? Or was there something else? Something…darker. His wolf clawed at his insides, no longer a patient hunter. “Soon,” he whispered to his inner beast. And to the woman. “That’s a promise.”
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I am making progress, if slowly. Yes, there were detours while I fixed MONTANA MOON and updated MOON SHOT so I could republish the former and go wide with both. That’s done. Now I have to get back in the mindset to produce new words. I’ll admit that I’m doing something I normall don’t do–going back to previously written scenes and editing them–not typos so much as adding words, making them deeper and more cohesive. I have such a weird writing process to begin with so watching it sort of…evolve is interesting. Anyway. Writers, any feral words to add? Readers, ever been so anger you wanted to go feral?