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“Dispatch, Van Three is 10-76 to Zootopia Penitentiary,” Judy said crisply into the mike in the seat beside Nick, as he guided the van out of the police lot and into Zootopia's early morning traffic. “ETA ten minutes.”

10-4, Van Three, Clauhauser replied back at Precinct One. Have fun!

“Oh, oodles,” Nick said, once Judy had clicked off. “Can't wait to see Smellwether's face when she finds out the chief chose us to transfer her over to the feds.” The fox grinned over to his bunny partner.

This fun won"t lastCollapse )

The universe does not need a crossover...

...between Buckaroo Banzai, Brisco County Jr. and Atomic Robo. No matter how cool it would be for Robo and Buckaroo to convince Brisco's descendant, Brisco County IV to give up the family tradition of legal advising and take up the other family tradition of Science Adventuring.

RVA: The Red Vixen at Sea, Conclusion

The sun was falling into the sea when rescue finally arrived. Rolas remained face down in the sand, exhausted from his ordeal, the remains of the ardalian’s tentacle hanging from his spine like an obscene second tail. Melanie left him briefly to grab the first aid kit and walk up the stairs for the fifth bloody time to check on the wazagan. It was still shuddering and otherwise unresponsive, though it had stopped crying and muttering to herself. Melanie gave it a shot of a universal anti-shock medication, and the poor creature finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Letting go of old pain.Collapse )

RVA: The Red Vixen at Sea, Part Fifteen

Fourth time's the charm, Melanie thought to herself, looking at the stairs again with distaste. But there were four tentacles in the sand, curving around the bay where the ardalian had to be hiding, leading up the stairs to the altar. She had to wonder at that. Surely there was no real reason why attaching a puppeteer tentacle to a victim had to be done at the highest point of the island. Perhaps it was a tradition. The presence of the stone altar slab certainly pointed to that.

She decided to worry about it later. For now, Melanie had a task. Even better, she could do it at the bottom of the stairs instead of climbing all the way to the top to confront the ardalian’s puppets. So she set her improvised spear into the sand, and drew out her real weapon from her pocket.

Any tool can be a weapon, in the right hands.Collapse )

POW Now Available in Paperback

Prisoners of War my erotic dieselpunk furry novella is now available for purchase as a POD paperback through Amazon for $6.00.


This is something of an experiment for me. If it turns out to be worthwhile, I may offer an omnibus of the Red Vixen Adventures once The Red Vixen at Sea is finished.

Note: POW is an erotic BDSM story featuring bondage, S&M, femdom, non-consensual sexual situations, and bad German accents. Not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

RVA: The Red Vixen at Sea, Part Fourteen-B

The worst was the bit with the reef. The lifejacket’s little AI was bound and determined to keep her facing tail towards the the water, snout in the air, which made it difficult to watch and time the waves, and start kicking in a one armed backstroke as they crested the reef. She only barely managed it, feeling her tail catch in the sharp coral as she swam clear, managing to avoid by some miracle of the Mother Goddess ripping her back open on it. The retreating waves threatened to carry past the boat itself, but she managed to tangle her arms with the sail’s lines, then wrapped her arms and legs around the mast itself.

And now for the really stupid part. Feeling her fingers already growing stiff in the cold surf, she yanked at the manual release catches for the lifejacket. It let out an electronic wail of protest as she slipped off, its complaints soon carried with it away in the waves.

Diving for Chekov"s GunCollapse )

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