About Tortoise Interruptus
by JL Merrow
39 pages / 10800 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-174-6
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Cursed by an impatient witch to turn into a tortoise at inopportune moments, Tip is horrified to find himself tortoise-napped by a customer at the cafe where he works.
Things start to look up when Tip ends up very literally in the capable hands of drop-dead gorgeous Steve -- but Tip soon begins to wonder just how far he can trust Steve, who turns out to have a close connection with his kidnapper. Tip's attempts at a normal life seem doomed to remain frustrated in more ways than one!
Sample
Tip poked his head out cautiously from under the
candlewick bedspread. He was in a single room, barely less cramped than his
shell. The shirt on the sole, hard-backed chair and the socks left
carelessly on the square inch of nondescript carpet indicated it was a man's
room. Excellent -- Tip would be able to steal some clothes when he finally
changed back. He lumbered forth, eager to see what else he could deduce
about the man in whose shoes he would shortly be standing.
There was a paperback on the bedside table, placed so that the end of it
protruded a couple of inches over the edge. Studying what he could see of
the cover for a moment, Tip was almost certain he was looking at the naked
man adorning the latest James Lear novel. If so, that said rather
interesting things about his unwitting, absent host. Frustratingly, the
paperback's spine was turned at an angle from him.
Tip had only got halfway through his copy of the book before Janey had
confiscated it, telling him that even if it was his tea break, that sort of
stuff was far too racy to read in front of the customers. Maybe if he could
get it down somehow, perhaps by clawing his way up the bedspread, Tip could
find some way of turning the pages? He was desperate to find out who Mitch
would shag next. Still, better make sure it was the right book before he
made all the effort.
Tip was craning his neck and had almost made out the first word of the blurb
when the door opened. Which might not have been a disaster -- except that at
that moment his chelonian curse ran out of juice, and he changed back to
human.
The book went flying as Tip shot up to what, in his case, passed for man
size. Wobbling slightly as he remembered how to balance on two feet, Tip
stood, hands cupped in front of his bits in the traditional
oh-my-god-I'm-naked pose, staring at the best-looking man he'd ever seen. At
least if he was going to die here, he thought fatalistically, he'd have
something nice to look at as he went.
The tall, dark and (in the circumstances) rather worryingly well-muscled
stranger goggled.