About Shifting Too
Edited by Rob Knight
215 pages / 86000 words
ISBN: 1-933389-13-3
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Does a good book bring out the beast in you? Then you’re going to love Shifting Too. The sequel to the bestselling anthology Shifting, edited by Rob Knight, Shifting Too presents seven new tales of living life on the wild side. Shapeshifters abound in stories by BA Tortuga, Sean Michael and Alex Draven.
From the wilds of Alaska to the jungles of India, or even a more urban jungle, these stories are hot enough to satisfy all of our animal urges, and full of enough human emotion to make us fall in love.
Run wild! Pick up Shifting Too today.
Review
CB Potts, author and editor of the upcoming Play Ball!, writes:
Here we are again, exploring that most feral and intriguing beast – the shape shifter.
So begins Rob Knight’s latest collection of paranormal erotica, collecting the works of five talented authors in one thoroughly enjoyable volume. There are no seamless werewolf-in-London tales here, though. Instead, Knight’s authors serve up tales of shapeshifters with problems – whether that’s unexpected whiskers, a wounded paw/hand, or trouble determining who really is the top dog.
The book opens with Julia Talbot’s Tiger’s Tails, written with Sean Michael, an almost Kiplingesque tale of Malik and Rishi. An interesting age difference between the two adds a most unexpected erotic frisson to the story.
BA Tortuga contributes the delightful five part Here Kitty Kitty series, featuring Adam and his man-cat companion with poor control, Jax. Jax struggles with unexpected bouts of whiskers and tail, but Adam knows how to satisfy Jax, no matter what form he’s in. There’s a genuine affection between the two characters, and this reader was left wanting even more Adam/Jax stories upon finishing the book.
Sean Michael’s Not Pride beautiful embraces the animal mindset. Brutal, real-life pack dynamics play out in direct opposition to the tender relationship formed by the most unlikely triad. Not to be missed. Michael’s other story, Ves’tacha also centers on pack behavior, while drawing a beautiful portrait of a May/December relationship with a great deal of touching insight and affection for the December point of view.
Sara Bell’s The Wraith King’s Bargain is a superlative piece of work, set on a much grander scale than most of the other stories. Great characterization and classic themes set up a beautifully constructed tale, very tightly written. Very nice ‘grand sacrifice for a grand love’ story.
Speculative fiction is often by its very nature experimental, and Alex Draven’s Sleeping Bears Lie demonstrates some interesting form and word choices. Intensely emotional, strong imagery, and a strangely collapsed narrative structure combine well to support a tale equally disturbing and erotic.
Lorne Rodman’s Hunted is a double delight, pairing two strangers in a strange land, the solitary hunter and the shapeshifter scorned by his own kind. The story has a fervid intensity to it. Rodman’s imagery is so strong that you can hear the jungle insects humming around you, feel the sweat drip down your back, startle at the sudden flight of a startled macaw while reading the tale.
All in all, a wonderful collection. Great reading with disturbing side effects. I may never look at my cat the same way again.
Sample
Tigers’ Tails By Julia Talbot with Sean Michael
Someone was sleeping on the Rock that had belonged to Malani, the One who Nursed Him, the One who Bore him.
Someone very big.
Someone very big and very loud and snory.
Still. That was not Someone Very Big's Rock. That was Malani's Rock.
Even though she had gone away down the water. Even though her roars no longer sounded here.
So Rishi gathered up all his courage -- and he was a Very Brave and Big Rishi -- and he Roared, telling the Someone Very Big to move.
Then he ran and hid in the grasses, just in case.
The Someone stood very fast, taking up the whole rock, and roared back at him, and the roar was Very Big too.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
He shook a little in the grass and then bared his teeth and Roared again. His Home. His.
This is Rishi's Home!
Rishi's!
The Very Big One roared again, too, and jumped down to stalk the grass around the Rock.
Rishi stayed far away from those claws and teeth, but he would not give up his Rock. His. Rock.
His water.
His grass.
His birds.
His sky.
His trees.
Not Someone's. His.
A Very Big Someone. Very Big. But quiet. The grass stopped moving and Rishi could not even hear the Big one breathing.
Uh-oh.
***
Here Kitty, Kitty: Whiskers to Tail By BA Tortuga
Jax shifted, scratching his nose.
Damn it, the stupid thing itched.
He scratched again, wincing as his whiskers caught on his fingers, and painfully. Whiskers... Shit.
Jax got up, scratching his back just above his butt, heading for the bathroom and the mirror. Yup. Whiskers.
On one side. Damned if it wasn't getting worse.
Good thing Adam didn't let him out in public much, the way he lost control. Bad thing was he needed deodorant and toothpaste.
''Adam? You going to the grocery store today, hon?''
Adam sort of grunted, head bent over the drawing table, the sound of the pencil scratching not even stuttering.
Grinning, Jax wandered over that way, collapsing bonelessly on the floor at Adam's feet, rubbing his damned itchy whiskers against one leg. ''Well, we'll need to sometime.''
''Need to what, pretty?'' Adam reached down, fingers stroking his head, his neck. ''You're whiskery. Tickles.''
''No shit. Get groceries. We need to get stuff.'' He lost the thread somewhere in the purrs, lifting his chin to let Adam scratch beneath.
''Okay. We can do that. We'll go late, yeah? When the place isn't busy. Get cream...'' Adam's pencil dropped, fingers moving to love on him, find each and every single spot. Oh. Oh, good man. So good.
Jax oozed a little, arms wrapping around Adam's waist, head in Adam's lap. His purrs got louder and louder and his ear got, well. Itchy.
Jax sighed. ''I just lost the ear, didn't I?''
''Uh-huh.'' Adam scratched it, chuckling softly. ''Relax, pretty. Stress makes it worse, remember. Your Aunt Kathy said so.''
''Then I won't think about going out.'' He had to, though, being cooped up all the time wasn't good for him either, and poor Adam needed to let him run off some steam and chase a bird or two. He arched his back as Adam scratched his ear, his muscles just drawing up all the way down to his ass. Mmmm. Damn that felt good.
''You can change tonight, late; we'll go to the park. There's trees.'' Adam's voice was rich, happy, vibrating all the way down to his tail.
Tail.
Damnit.
***
The Wraith King's Bargain By Sara Bell
The midsummer night was thick and moonless, but Aswyn and the five canine sentries padding through the lush undergrowth behind him had no trouble finding their way back to the base of the hill. Once there, Aswyn gave the signal for the others to fall away as he alone climbed the rocky peak. He stayed in wolven form until he reached the copse of trees at the hill's crest, beginning the shift as soon as he stepped into the safety of the sheltering elms. As always, the jarring change from wiry animal sinew to corded human muscle took his breath away, causing Aswyn to stand panting in the shadows for a full minute while he recovered. Once assured his legs were strong enough to hold him, he winced away the last twinging pains of the transformation before striding naked and unashamed to the spot where his liege waited.
Courtesy commanded most vassals to fall on their knees at first sight of their king, but Aswyn made no such supplication. He and Xandor were more than king and commander. Having been raised together, they were as brothers -- friends until the last breath parted them. For that reason, Aswyn greeted Xandor with nothing more than the words, '''Tis done.''
Xandor's only response was a tense order thrown against the stillness of the night. ''Tell me what you've found.''
Aswyn hesitated. His next words would damn the governor beyond redemption, but there was no help for it. Oskar of Graywald had hung himself with his own misdeeds, and now he would pay the price.
''We found most of the items he stole from you tucked away in the cellar.''
''Most?''
Aswyn nodded, knowing Xandor could see him despite the darkness. ''Several substantial pieces were missing, but 'tis possible he has them hidden somewhere in the main house. My soldiers and I were unable to conduct a more thorough search without alerting the household to our presence, but we can go back and search anew if you so desire.''
''There's no need. I imagine the varlet has already traded my family's treasures for coin, anyhow.'' Aswyn's keen night eyes caught the spark of outrage in the king's black gaze. ''So I was right about his treachery, after all. I'd hoped perhaps I was mistaken, but now…'' Xandor broke off and looked away, but not before Aswyn saw the flash of pain that creased his regal face.
It hurt Aswyn to see Xandor so wounded, and renewed anger toward the governor fired his blood. ''You've only to say the word and my men and I will roust the villain from his bed to answer these charges.''
Xandor was shaking his head before Aswyn even finished. ''We'll move tomorrow, in full light of day. I want the entire village to bear witness to Oskar's arrest. Let his humiliation run so deep that even his ancestors feel the sorrow of his shame.''
Aswyn tilted his head to the side, studying Xandor's face. ''And what of Tynan? Do you seek to punish him for his father's misdeeds as well?''
''Tynan plays no part in this,'' Xandor said, his voice flat and emotionless. ''Whatever happens tomorrow is between Oskar and me. I care not what Tynan thinks.''
Aswyn snorted. ''You might be able to peddle that tale to someone else, but I know you too well to buy it. And there's something else I know.'' He crossed his arms over his chest. ''Tynan will not stand idly by while you call his father out as a common thief, evidence be damned.''
Xandor shrugged. ''So be it. Let Tynan wail and gnash his teeth to his heart's content. So long as he stays out of my way, that is.''
Aswyn was quickly losing patience was Xandor's cool façade. ''Creator's sake, man, you loved him once.''
Xandor whirled on him then, eyes sparking with anger. ''A love which he killed the day he refused what I offered.''
Aswyn fought the urge to scream from pure frustration. ''He was only ten and eight when you told him the truth about yourself, Xandor. A mere boy in all the ways that count. How could you expect him to embrace a full mating with you?''
''I would have done no less for him, and well he knew it. Instead, he turned his back on me. Me.'' Xandor jabbed a thumb against his own chest. ''The man who loved him.'' His voice fell a full measure. ''The man who would have died for him.''
Aswyn ached for Xandor, but he'd seen enough to know that Tynan had suffered as well. ''You could have given him time to come to terms with all you asked of him. Time to make up his mind instead of ordering him out of your life.''
Xandor's face closed then, the mask of iron control firmly back in place. '''Twas a long time ago, and I'll discuss this no longer.'' He turned his back on Aswyn and started down the backside of the hill. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, ''Tell your men to report back to the keep. We'll descend on the governor at dawn.''
Long after Xandor was gone, Aswyn stood in place, praying The Creator of All would give them all strength enough to greet the morrow. He had a feeling 'twould be a prayer much needed.
***
Sleeping Bears Lie By Alex Draven
''Matt?!''
Of all the bars … Matt was about the last person I was expecting to run into. I mean, I spent nearly three months looking for him with no success, and found out that every single thing he ever told me about himself was a lie in the process, so, really, I wasn't expecting to see him back behind the bar at my local as though he'd never left. I've only been back here myself for a few weeks: the stairs down are a bitch with my knee, even now I'm out of the cast. Hell, this is where I first met him: tending bar in Donnovan's, just shy of a year ago.
''Dan!''
He looks so much the same it's almost shocking. Maybe his hair's a little longer, his tan a little darker, his belly a little rounder, but the same eyes, the same smile, the same graceful way of moving as he stows the glass he's wiping and comes around the bar to hug me. The emotion that flickers across his face when I move away slightly I don't recognise.
''Dan? How're you doing?''
He's looking at me like I'm the one being weird. A few months ago I was flying on his smiles, and now the sight of him makes my stomach turn.
''Better now -- I'm off the crutches and everything.''
''Crutches? What happened?'' His hand's on my shoulder and when I flinch away it covers his mouth, which just leaves his eyes to do all the acting, shocked and hurt. ''Dan?''
Something about the tone of that just hits a nerve, and I'm not normally the kind of guy to cause a scene in a bar, but damn. The gall of him!
''Just - stop that -- stop pretending like you give a crap and fuck off, you lying piece of shit.''
The silence after that is huge. The ABC news headlines are suddenly very clear in the bar. I don't even have to look around to know that everyone in here is staring at us, and my cheeks are burning. In the half second it takes for me to turn around to make for the door the chatter starts up again, all with a single focus.
I don’t cry until I'm back in my room and I've drunk almost a third of vodka.
***
The first time I saw Matt he was tending bar at Donnovan's, and I couldn't stop myself from watching him, even though I never did pluck up the courage to say anything to him at all -- not even to go up to the bar and order a drink, let alone a flirt a little. I mean, I was hanging out there because of the university GLB group, and while any kind of a relationship with a student would be a really bad idea, there's a fair few folks not from the University who tag along. It's the nearest thing Fairbanks has to a gay bar. Which doesn't mean that the bar staff are necessarily queer, although I've wondered about Michele a time or two, but makes it easier for a guy to play 'what if' in his head.
So sue me. I'd been in town nine months and not gotten laid. Who wouldn't want some new fantasy fodder after that long?
And Matt? I guess he's not exactly Falcon material, too stocky and solid for that, but to my tastes that's a good thing, and there was just something about him. Something just still and steady, but somehow like there could be anything underneath. I don't know. Maybe I was just desperate for a new face, someone I didn't know a damn thing about yet. Maybe I'm a white trash boy from Tennessee who has kinda a thing for native looking guys, or maybe I'm just a romantic at heart and was looking for any excuse to fall in love a little with the idea of someone.
By the next time we ran into each other, at the OIT helpdesk, I'd come up with a hundred and one histories for him, and a thousand and one futures where we would have ended up in bed, in love, in each other's lives, and in each other's bodies. He called me Chip for awhile after he found that out; reckoned that I should take up poker if I could hide my reactions that well.
I was at work! Well, that and you don't get through high-school in one piece without being able to hide a crush, and I've never quite lost the knack, apparently. Of course, I never turned up on Bobby-the-quarterback's doorstep and lurched from 'Hi, how are you?' to kissing him in the hallway in minutes either, so it's nice to know that some things do change.
So, yeah. I pretty much threw myself at this guy after maybe a half hour of conversation, and he caught me. The first time we kissed was in the doorway of this big house he was taking care of for the winter. The first time he sucked up a mark on my neck was against the wall of the hallway, the first time I blew him was on the stairs, and the first time he made me come was right there on top of him. Best gamble I ever took is what I told my room-mates when I hadn't been home in three days and Mitchell came into work and hauled me out for lunch with them both.
It's funny how things change, looking back.