Dogs Of LA – Part One

The Dogs of LA – Part I
I’ve started this one in my newsletter and my husband suggested I bring it over here to share and so I will (cause he’s smart that way). The Dogs of LA is a soap opera about Los Angeles and a big important family and the lives of its sons. Only the family are werewolves. Sort of like Dallas or Knots Landing with fur and better sex. So, without further ado…

Los Angeles – where rock stars stand in line at Starbucks with wanna
be actors and dog trainers. In the midst of the grit and glamour
people live their lives. They eat the best tacos in the country off
trucks in parking lots, banks get robbed, music videos get made and
kids go to elementary school.

And the Delacourte Clan rules. The biggest werewolf pack in the
United States is ruled with the iron fist of its Alpha, Marius
Delacourte. His sons are legion and include CEO’s, a tailor, an FBI
agent, a hoodlum, a chef and a musician.

Part I begins with Gabriel, the second oldest son and the musician
of the family…

Gabriel Delacourte looked out the smoky windows of the limousine. The lights of the marquees on Sunset were muted through the darkened tint but still bright enough to signal the vibrant energy of the long strip of clubs, businesses and restaurants. Humans packed the sidewalks.

Even though he was on his way to see the most magnificent looking female to ever walk the earth, he couldn’t help but admire the long legs and short skirts out there in the evening.

Soon they left the bright lights as they ascended into the hills overlooking the city. Petra’s drive was long and winding and she was standing in her large double doorway wearing a smirk and very little else.

“Pet.” Gabriel unfolded his long body as he stepped out of the limo.

“Gabriel. I do think I’ve insisted you not call me that. And I also think I told you not to bother to bring your mangy ass up here anymore.”

Petra Cassidy was easily six feet tall with caramel colored hair that fell to her waist. She should have seemed masculine at such height but there was an air of female seduction around her. Her
light green eyes were almond shaped, lips curved in a perpetual half smile. She was truly the most beautiful thing Gabriel had ever laid eyes on. And he’d seen her naked and sweaty, too.

Only now, her eyes sparked with fury and her arms crossed just under her breasts, thrusting them up out of the very low cut camisole she had on.

“You have to let me explain.” He kept his voice reasonable. He knew if he could get inside and explain, she’d forgive him.

“No. No, I don’t Gabriel. I’ll let you live, but only because the Alpha says I have to. But you can take that cocksure smile and that big dog swagger right back down that hill.”

“You spoke with my father?”

“Yes, yes I did. I did when you fell off the face of the earth for three weeks and didn’t call and I thought you’d been killed. Turns out you were just in Venice. Too bad you couldn’t be bothered to call. Now, get out of here before I forget my promise and rip you to shreds.” With that, she leveled a glare at him that froze his guts and spun, sauntering back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

“Shit.” Gabriel kicked the dirt and stalked up to the door. “Come on! Petra, let me explain!” he yelled as he pounded on the door.

But there was nothing except for after a few minutes, all of the exterior lights were turned off. Not that he needed them to see, but he realized then, the true depth of the hole he’d dug himself into.

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