Dolly Dalmatian Novels & Stories

Danny looked up at me. "Charloote, how do you spell 'Uncle'?" "U-N-C-L-E, got it?" "Yeah." After a moment, he looked up again. "How do you spell 'home'?" "H-O-M-E." Just as I finished speaking, the doorbell rang. I got up to answer the door and, looking outside, was both surprised and delighted, "Dilan!" "Woof woof woof!" A white Samoyed jumped onto me, rubbing against me enthusiastically.

She walked in with her mother I assumed. She looked young and shy. Her skin was fair and her lips were pink. Her long blond and brown hair was pulled into a loose bun. Her eyelids fluttered as she only made contact with the ground. Preventing me from seeing the color of her eyes. She wore a simple colored dress and soft pink flats. She was thin and tall with a full set of breasts. She walked in with the wind and caught my attention.

I call out. I soon hear little patters on the floor, the three dogs, Aura, Kyra and Fang. One of Erica’s favourite movies when she was younger was White Fang, hence the name. They rush to greet me, all waiting for a scratch behind the ear and the treat I always give them when I come in. I take them from my pocket, giving each of them one, and they disappear to eat them. “Auntie Aubrey.” Daisy beams excitedly, running towards me. I scoop her up, hugging her. She is only three, so she is easy to pick up.

What was going on with this woman? Normally, whenever she saw Dolly, she acted like a mouse spotting a cat, keeping her head down and staying out of the way. So why had she come looking for Dolly herself this time? The very idea seemed impossible. Yet Tessa had done exactly that. Not only was everyone else surprised, even Dolly hadn't expected it. Dolly's full name was Dolly Smith. It was an ordinary, unremarkable name, and in many ways, so was the life she'd once lived.

I yell back. The drivers nods and gestures for us to come in, Enzo sat in front and I squeezed into the back with a very happy great dane that occupied most of the space and barked happily at me. “Awn what’s his name.” I coo while petting the dog. The truck driver smiles. “It’s a girl actually, her name is Daisy.” I pet her some more as she tried to lick my face. The ride went to a comfortable silence as we rode down the straight road.

"Oh, no." "Oh, yes. Now—pig or cow? Choose wisely." He huffs a sigh, sliding on his gloves and mumbling curses under his breath. "At least let me have the other cow." "You want Daisy?" "Of course. Look at mine. She's a beast." It's true. His cow, Bessie, is a beast. A fifteen-hundred pound, black- and-white spotted Holstein. Daisy can't compete, seeming half her size. But what Damien doesn't know is Bessie is much older, gentler, and more experienced when it comes to being milked.

Even his lips trembled. Turning his head, he said, “Miss, look who I brought.” Heloise turned her gaze. Not far away stood a white long-haired puppy. Its dark eyes stared directly at her, yet it did not come closer, as though it could not recognize her. “Little Dolphin, come here.” Ben called. Only then did Little Dolphin slowly trot over. The puppy circled around Heloise, sniffing frantically. Suddenly, as though recognizing her, it became excited at once, pressing its little head insistently into her arms.

Emma nodded her head to him to let him know it was ok for him to start. It only took Dylan a few minutes to complete his shift. His wolf was a lot smaller than hers, by almost a foot. His wolf was a sandy brown color with flecks of white through his coat. It suited him. Emma jumped when Logan howled beside her, and then took off running. Emma and Dylan followed behind him.

Adelaide let her eyes move over the people that filled the pristine white space as their eyes all turned to look to her. Familiar faces stood out from the crowd next to Theo and she quickly made her way over. The tall female was dressed in traditional wear that stood out from the crowd that had gathered and her hair was auburn and long, reaching to her lower back. Her eyes were blue and wild, full of the wolf that lounged beneath her skin. The wilderness clung to her skin and was a drug to her senses, like a song pulling her back to the true nature of their kind.

was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian.