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My name is Schon Carver. That’s Shawn, or Sean. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I mean, if I can’t pronounce your name then I am going to ask. That is the decent thing to do, you with me?
First, don’t make the mistake of thinking I am a nice guy. I am only nice when it suits me. Damn, I have to admit I am trying to change that about myself. See, I met this guy a while back and much to my surprise we hit it off. I don’t mean like a one night thing with passion and heat to spare. There is that but .. something more. Something I want to stick around for. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a cat too.
And that brings me to the second thing: I am a were-cat. An ailuranthrope. A man who can shape shift into a leopard. Panthera pardus. It really is as cool as it sounds. And I am sure you want to know how I contracted this very rare.. well fuck, mutation? Disease? Affliction? Gift? Whatever you want to call it, it boils down to this one thing: If it ain’t in you to begin with then getting bit isn’t going to do anything more then send you to the ER for a quick stitch up and likely some nasty injections. As I was saying, you have to have the animal within you to begin with, so when a werewolf bites you (oh yeah, that’s a whole other story) the cat wakes its lazy ass up and voila! You are now a were-cat.
 Right, right, the third thing: That whole werewolf biting you thing? I know it sucks but those dirty mouthed mangy canines are the ass-hats that carry the germs necessary to infect you. Was that clear enough for you? Crap, I can almost hear you thinking it. How was I infected? Let’s just say he road my ass then bit it in fun. *Growls* Fucker.
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My Novels:
Year of the Cat
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