Paw Patrol Tuck Novels & Stories

Me: “Damn. Jackpot.” I laughed and shook my head. Amara: “Right? But then Parker came flying in like a madman to change clothes. Doorbell rings—guess who? Big Tuck and Patrick.” Me: “Okay, that doesn’t sound bad. Big Tuck’s a sweetheart outside of business.” Amara: “He was very sweet. Jade made me sit down, and Big Tuck didn’t even know I was pregnant yet.” Me: “And?”

My life, it seemed, was now guided by this small creature’s whims. It felt surreal. I recalled that moment when Clay had texted our family group chat, announcing Tinkerbell’s long-awaited litter—eight healthy, squirming puppies of pure joy. My heart had raced as I demanded photos without delay, and among the sea of tiny furballs, Rufio stood out: belly-up, with oversized paws that seemed to bounce off the ground, and a little white tuft on his head resembling a mischievous mohawk. I called dibs on him, and I did so loudly. I wasn’t joking—not even a little bit.

--- Rage followed Rex on his first patrol into the North. The grey wolf was too old to run much anymore. But its grandson, the small grey wolf Sylvan had brought back from the forest, was already grown. Rage had named him Firepaw—for the patch of dark red fur on his right front paw. He walked behind Rex with Firepaw at his side, across the ice plains for a whole day. When he returned, his boots were covered in frozen soil and ice chips. He ran to Luna and held up the small handful of thistle root tendrils clutched in his fist for her to see.

Pure darkness. Then the shadows screamed. The sound echoed through the tunnel. Then the rest attacked. Fast. Far too fast. Then Walter swung a broken piece of stone. Smashing one of the copies. It exploded into black smoke. Then Ava grabbed Peanut. Protecting her. The puppies barked furiously. Even tiny Cookie launched himself at one of the creatures. God. That puppy had absolutely no survival instincts. Fair. None whatsoever. Reasonable honestly. Then the copy kicked toward him. Before it could connect—