Fiction Books About Dogs Novels & Stories

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

"I... I have them. If you don't believe her, I can—" "No!" Tracey screamed, lunging to stop him, but it was too late. The sharp click of the car unlocking sealed her fate. I threw open the trunk. The stench hit me first. Then I saw it—a small, lifeless dog, its body limp and decaying. Puffy. Peter stumbled back, his face white as a sheet. "Tracey... Puffy... why is... why is Puffy here?" The live stream exploded. Comments poured in, furious and relentless:

I murmured, gathering my things. At Row D, I ran my fingers across worn spines: Lycanthropy and Legends, Moon-bound, The Silver Curse. My pulse quickened as I pulled a heavy volume free. I whispered to myself, “Could I really…?” “Could you really what?” a voice came from behind me. I spun to see Fiona standing there, arms folded, a curious smile on her face. “Fiona! You scared me.” “Sorry.” She peered at the book in my hand. “Werewolves? That’s… unexpected. Planning a Halloween prank?”

Not a minute later Alexander grabbed the dog and hugged him with his hands as he brought him over his cheeks, while the cat purred and snuggled back, pressing its fur against Alexander cheeks and licking it. Ash looked at the both of them in disbelief as they became incredibly attached to each other in just like . . . a few seconds. He knew it might sound childish for him to get jealous over a dog. But Ash had learned the hard way to control his attachment to the dogs. He once loved and were very fond of them when he was still very young. But their resident dog, chelly, has been nothing but a bitch to them. He only seemed tame when it came to Jess. Ash tried to win over the dog heart, but to

Whereas we were panting like dogs from running after them. Little cute devils! They reminded me of the dog, Buck, from the book I was reading. He was a pampered pet of a family until the day he was stolen to slave as a sled dog and suffered terribly. My heart ached everytime I read about him. Hopefully no dog would ever suffer from such fate. "So... how is it going with you and young sir?" Bella asked, bringing me out of my thoughts. "...Huh? Ah... well?" "Well?"

He was almost falling over himself. Alistair circled carefully, his tail flagged behind him. Gary had kidnapped Jenna, kept her locked in a cage. The white wolf bared his teeth in a menacing snarl. Gary drugged her so she couldn't fight. He raped her over and over and then made her submit to him in front of his pack. The growl started deep in his chest and became louder as he thought of the tortures his mate had endured.

For over an hour, they had sat in the sitting room as Sofia had pointed at all the dogs she hoped to own one day. There had been a Jack Russell, cocker spaniel, Chihuahua, Pomeranian, Dachshund, Saint Bernard, German Shepherd, in fact, the girl had pointed to every single breed of dog in the book and simply stated she wanted each one. She had a feeling the moment Sofia unleashed all her cuteness, Dmitry had no chance.

"I don't know any holy stories, My Lady." "Not holy," Miya snapped, then softened. "Something... simple. From your life." "Well," Finn started shakily. "When I was a boy... my mother kept rabbits. One of them, a little white one with a black ear... he thought he was a dog." Miya opened one eye. "A dog?" "Yes," Finn smiled, forgetting his fear for a second as his hands worked up to her knee. "He would chase the sheep. He would bark—well, squeak—at the mailman. He didn't know he was small. He just knew he was brave."

Could this be where the answers lay hidden? I stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind me. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and must, and I could almost hear whispers of a time long past. I scanned the shelves and noticed a collection of leather-bound journals and faded documents in a language I didn’t immediately understand. My eyes caught on one large, heavy ledger with ornate gold lettering on its cover. The title read simply “The Legacy of the Bloodhound Pack.” My hands trembled as I opened it, and I began to read.

Bikes were open and a great way to work my legs when I couldn’t shift with humans around. Inside the truck was an anxious dog, it looked like a pit mix. He was nervous, locked up in a truck with a predator approaching. He started to whine and cower. Lucky he was inside, otherwise he would have bolted like most animals do on sheer instinct. See not a chihuahua, she might like me more than you. Dane was gloating. He was impossible when he was right.