Duck Season Dog Novels & Stories

After the college entrance exam, the school's reigning beauty dragged me into a wager over our scores. "Only the girl with the higher marks is worthy of being Eric's girlfriend." Eric Lowell scoffed. "That's enough, Jocelyn. My relationships aren't yours to dictate." Then, in front of everyone, he confessed to me. I mistook it for the answer to a long-held crush. With the crowd egging us on, I flushed and said yes. That night, he took me back to his place. From then on, we hardly spent a night apart. Before application season, I went to his house, hoping we would apply to the same university. Instead, I overheard part of a phone call. "Jocelyn, everything's ready: the photos, the videos. Just like you asked." Jocelyn's laughter drifted through the receiver, light and pleased. "You must've gone to so much trouble~ Then let's wait until the school assembly the day after tomorrow and stream it to the whole school. I'm curious to see how Tessa plans on applying to those top-tier universities after that." "Eric," she added casually, "you're not having second thoughts, are you?" He hesitated, then answered, "Why would I? If anyone's at fault, it's her for not knowing her place. What right does she have to keep scoring higher than you?" I set the custom ring down, opened my email, and accepted the Oxford offer that had been waiting for me for a week.

Autumn Dawson had only ever loved one man, Ivan Ashton, her husband. For twelve years, she devoted her life to him, only to have her heart shattered when he married her sister on their 11th anniversary. Shortly after, she met a mysterious death and was reincarnated three years before her demise. This time, she vowed things would be different. On their ninth anniversary, when Ivan brazenly introduced his mistress for the first time, Autumn refused to remain silent. No longer the mute dog wagging her tail at her husband's call, she stood up, her eyes blazing with fury. "I want a divorce," she declared, her voice resonating with newfound strength. The room fell silent, the shock evident on both Ivan's and her sister's faces. For the first time, Autumn wasn't backing down. She had had enough, and she was determined to seek revenge on every single person who had wronged her in her past life. But as she prepared to walk away, Ivan grabbed her arm, his eyes filled with desperation. "I want a second chance," he pleaded. Autumn's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening. "Over my dead body," she spat, yanking her arm free. This time, Autumn Dawson wasn't just fighting for herself. She was ready to take down anyone who dared to stand in her way.

After I register my marriage with Gabriella Archer behind everyone's backs, whenever she unlocks a new bedroom position with her childhood sweetheart, Nathaniel Taylor, she tells me that she'll throw a wedding to make it up to me. In three years, Gabriella has brought the wedding up 33 times. Of course, she has broken her promise 33 times as well. The first time she did, it was because Nathaniel's dog had died. In order to pay respects to it, Gabriella told me that she couldn't host any auspicious events for three months. I was still clad in a tux as I kept apologizing and making amends to all of our family, friends, and relatives beneath the stage. The second time Gabriella flaked out on me, it was thanks to Nathaniel's stomachache. She had the wedding car turned around so that she could buy medicine for Nathaniel and take care of him. In every wedding after that, Nathaniel would get into all sorts of troubles and ailments. I fought with Gabriella, and I lost my temper multiple times. But Gabriella often hit me with, "Nate and I are just friends with benefits. You're my actual husband here, so don't be petty." After Gabriella breaks her promise for the 33rd time, I'm finally done with her. So, I slide a divorce agreement in her direction. "The cooling-off period is over, so let's just finalize the divorce."

The Blood of Two Worlds Anna Elara McKinnley is a living heresy. The product of a forbidden union between a high-ranking Warlock and a savage Wolf, she is a hybrid of volatile magic and primal instinct. After her mother fled the scandal and the packs branded her an abomination, Anna mastered the art of disappearance. For years, she has survived in the human shadows by suppressing her scent and shackling her power. But her carefully constructed anonymity shatters when her best friend, Sophie, is lured to the Solstice Gala. To the human world, it’s the social event of the season; to the Blackwood Pack, it is a cold-blooded hunting ground where Alphas claim human mates to anchor their bloodlines. When Sophie is "marked" by the pack’s ruthless heir, she is locked away in a gilded cage, unaware that her life of freedom is over. To pull Sophie from the jaws of the wolves, Anna must return to the world that hunted her as a child. Infiltrating the Blackwood estate under a false identity, Anna finds herself navigating a minefield of aristocratic politics and predatory dominance. The air is thick with the scent of her enemies, and keeping the "beast" and the "witch" quiet becomes a losing battle. Her greatest threat arrives in the form of the one man capable of smelling the rot in her lies—a man whose lineage mirrors the dark history she’s tried to outrun. As the gala descends into a game of power and blood, Anna realizes that a quiet rescue is impossible. To save the only person who loves her, she must stop hiding and become the very thing the wolves fear most: a hybrid with the power to burn their empire to the ground.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman. He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla. Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate. Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened. He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.” Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business. Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage. Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother… Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!” Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled. I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

Zane Kessler, tough captain of the Thunder Wolves, has spent years vowing to crush Jaxon Caldwell, the fast, clever captain of the Storm Hawks. Their rivalry is brutal… hard checks, sharp words, pure hatred on the ice. But after Zane's team loses their biggest game of the season, Jaxon finds him alone in the empty locker room. An argument flares… then a simple touch turns into a soft, surprising kiss. Hate suddenly feels warm and confusing. From that moment, their rivalry begins to melt into something sweeter and deeper. But the hockey world isn't kind to feelings like this. Coming out could destroy their careers, and their teams would never forgive the captains falling for the enemy. Then the league drops the bombshell… the Thunder Wolves and Storm Hawks must merge into one team for the upcoming National Championship. To foster unity, Zane and Jaxon are forced to share a small apartment near the rink. They share the same space, the same locker room, and literally breathe the same air. At first it feels like torture… bumping into each other in the kitchen, sharing the couch after tough games, trying to act like nothing has changed. But the walls come down fast. Quiet talks turn into laughter. Simple meals become excuses to sit close. Stolen kisses in the dark hallway feel like winning the biggest game of their lives. Now they must lead their new team to the title while hiding a love that grows stronger every day. One wrong glance, one slip, and it could shatter everything… the championship, their careers, and the beautiful thing they’ve finally found. On the ice they were sworn enemies. Off it, they’re falling hard. And the closer they get, the more impossible it is to let go. Who will surrender first?

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"