Fiction Books About Dogs Novels & Stories

But instead of moving away, the dog even walked closer. “G-Go away!” Cassius shouted. The dog barked at him. “Arf!” Terrified, Cassius closed his eyes. He really thought the dog will bite him or stomp at him. But when he opened his eyes, he saw the golden retriever running with Cassius’ sketchbook in its mouth. “M-My sketchbook…” Cassius murmured. He tilted his head in wonder. It took him few seconds before he realized that the dog just stole his treasure away! And worst, he’s biting it right now!

Josiah asked as he furrowed his brows tightly. Josiah did not seem to notice the fact that he was feeling annoyed that the dog got loose because he knew that Meredith was terrified of dogs. Miss Leah shook her head and lied, "I don't know. Perhaps it escaped on its own since it did not see Yena today." Miss Leah obviously knew how Ysabelle had tortured Meredith. Not only did she know, she desperately wanted to tear Meredith into pieces. "What did you feed it with?" Josiah asked. The Tibetan Mastiff had a body of white fur, yet the fur around its mouth had several blood spots all over.

No sign of rest ever came to me and who would've thought it took getting kidnapped—and other unsightly experiences—to get me to take a break. I opened the book allowing myself to get immersed in the world of the protagonists. I wasn't a fan of romance novels but it was quite interesting, the books I'd come across. I have to say, Mr Moretti might have good taste. Well, I'm pretty sure those were for the explicit scenes. Who knew what men like him thought. Much time hadn't passed when I heard the sound of barking. As it drew closer, the barks got louder. I sat up glancing about for the source when a big German Shepherd raced towards me. It barked at me. Instinctively I drew my feet up.

I mumbled with a full mouth. "There's extra in there. Let's keep moving." We turned the corner into another street lined with low brick buildings. One had a dusty window and a sun-faded sign that read Dog-Eared Pages. "This place is a little gem," Robbie said. "If you ever want to read up on modern stuff written for wolves from the old packs—this is where to do it. They even have books on magic you won't find in human shops." That piqued my interest immediately, but—

"Wow, luckily I didn't tell them anything. I acted like I didn't know who you were." "Thank you." Henry leans back on the couch, getting comfortable as I sit down beside him. "The book is on the second bookshelf, two shelves down from the top and has a green cover. I think it's called Lycanthrope Mythology if you ever want to look at it." Bruiser comes moseying into the room before he jumps up on one of the seats across from us, laying down. I have begun to love the dog, enjoying what it is like to have a pet. "He is always with you," I glance at Henry.

She tilted her head, and looked over at him quizzically. “I didn’t realize dogs had their own written language…what are you reading about? The best howling techniques?” She laughed as she said it, but she kept examining the book. “I’m sorry hun, there are no pictures. I think they save those books for when there are children on board. I can read this to you if you’re interested.” “Do you two ever stop?” Luca said groggily. He turned in his seat and pulled the pillow over his head to drown out their noise.

I didn’t even have a wolf. The next book, The History of Gifts, looked promising. I sat down on the floor and opened it carefully, trying not to get my hopes too high. There were chapters about mind links, healing powers, even wolves that could talk to animals… but not a single word about silver fire. Or glowing fingers. Or dreams about strange women with snow-white hair. I let out a long breath, the kind that made your shoulders sag. I felt tired. Like the answers I wanted were still too far away.

I need to find suitable females for Clay and me. Then I picked up a scent I liked and started in that direction. Thankfully Clay didn’t protest and followed along as I tried to hurry to catch up to the source of the scent. I finally caught sight of the female. She was more than double my size, the dog, not the human, but she was pretty with a fluffy red coat and a pink flower on her harness. I don’t know her breed, but that doesn’t matter. I liked her look.

Did he say mates? Did you say mates? I did. Listen. Don't freak, but I'm going to move up beside you. And I won't look like me. A ribbon of thrill snaked through her. Everything she'd read so far in the book came rushing back to her on a tidal wave of excitement. She sat perfectly still, watching from the corner of her eye as a large animal moved softly into her peripheral range. She turned her head slightly and her eyes widened. A huge black-pelted animal moved casually until it was on the porch right next to her. About the size of a Great Pyrenees dog, it could have been one of the drawings in the book come to life.

After roaming my sight around, I lie down on the couch and embrace the warmth. Everything is vivid in my mind, the burning houses of the Small Vil. There's not a single anguishing soul but the pure noise of the chewing fire as it devours the homes. And it's a relief that it was just a dream. I stare blankly at the furnace in front. When I was about to lift myself up, I froze because the tiny wild dog was sleeping on my stomach! Another one is sleeping on my toes. And the rest of the dogs are sleeping on the rug. I found myself in a big picture of sleeping dogs!