Hiya guys! We have B.A. Tortuga popping in today with her upcoming long awaited Sanctuary release What the Cat Dragged In, we have a great excerpt and a brilliant guest post, so check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~
What the Cat Dragged In
Don’t people know that cats and dogs don’t mix?
Connor Ragbone finds things. Sometimes it’s gold, sometimes jewels, sometimes people. Set in his hippie ways, he never thought he’d find a pack, but with Sam and Gus and their goofy shifter family, he fits right in. Then he finds Brock.
Shifter Brock Herman is undercover alone, working to break up a poaching ring. The last thing he needs is for Connor to wreck his sting. And now the crazy bobcat just won’t go away!
The poachers lead Brock and Connor on a merry chase all over Western Colorado, looking for shifter bears, but it’s a lost pup who brings them back to Nevada and the pack Sam and Gus are building. That’s when Brock has to decide whether he still travels alone or if Connor and his crazy family are where his heart belongs.
This follow-up to Just Like Cats and Dogs is a feel-good shifter romance novel where cats and dogs prove they can be way more than the enemies nature has made them.
by B.A. Tortuga
Hey, y’all! I’m BA Tortuga, resident redneck and lover of stories.
I know, surprising, right? I mean, stories are my entire life – reading them, writing them, listening to them, telling them.
So Sam and Gus (the heroes of the first Sanctuary novel) showed up with a pitbull and a mean old pussycat in a bush. They wrote themselves in no time, and then they went quiet.
Life went on and on. I kept poking around for a sequel, but none came.
Then I moved to New Mexico. I live up around a mile high where there are coyotes in the front yard and roadrunners the size of small cats, and where you can drive forty five minutes and see bears and bobcats and where I actually get to sponsor a mountain lion and a raven at the local zoo.
Connor showed up with his Mustang, a Texan with a travelling jones and a calling, insisting that someone was coming for him, no question. None.
Someone needed Connor to find him.
Brock took a little longer to get to know, because Connor’s such a bouncy kitty and he’s so honest. Brock does a hard job, trying to save the world, and he wasn’t in love with my bobcat boy.
He changed his mind. 😉
I’m so tickled that the boys finally gave it up, and that there’s this rich new universe to explore. Also, baby bear shifters, because cuteness.
Much love, y’all.
OH, HE did like a cold beer on a pretty night.
Connor leaned back in the deck chair, belly full of a lovely slab of tuna he’d picked up in Vegas as a “don’t kill me” present for him and Sam to share. He brought Gus a double-ended amethyst and a huge chunk of raw garnet.
Gus chuckled. “You look pretty pleased with yourself, Con.”
“Y’all know how I feel about a good finding.” Nothing felt better than discovering what he was looking for and ending up with a positive result. Sometimes things didn’t want to be found.
“Mmm-hmmm. Poor guy looks worn to the bone.”
“Poachers suck.” And they were sneaky fuckers too. Between hunters without a care for permits, poachers, and loss of territory that drove their kind out into the cities, more and more lost folks kept showing up on Connor’s radar. It was hard to know where to go.
Connor knew Gus and Sam, a wolf and a big cat, could only take so many in their little sanctuary in northern Nevada. They had a lot of pups to care for, and at some point, they would need more strong males and fewer nurturers. Still, they were kind, and their place was so safe for the oddballs….
“They do. Can you stay a bit, Connor? It’s a week ’til the moon, and I have a whole bag of catnip….”
He felt his whiskers vibrate, his tail twitch at the mention of the catnip. “I could use a few days downtime, yeah. Totally.”
Gus groaned. “I should have bought more fish.”
“Go to Winnemucca.” Sam chuckled, nudging Connor. “I love to say that word.”
“Winnemucca. Winnemucca. Mucca-mucca-mucca.” Connor chuckled softly, tickled. “I get it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You two….” Gus rolled his eyes, and Connor stuck his tongue out at the big Alpha wolf. The guy loved having something to grump about. “You two warn me when you want to catnip,” Gus said. “I’ll get some trout.”
“You’re good to me, Puppy.” Sam moved to slide into Gus’s lap with a happy little purr.
“You two are still humping? You’ve been together how long?”
“Long enough to stop being bothered when some weird bobcat asks awkward questions.” Sam raised one black eyebrow at him, green cat eyes glinting.
“Awkward is if I ask you if you like sucking him, buddy.” He loved teasing. Loved it.
Sam smacked his lips. “Deeeelish.”
“I swear to God, Connor. I will pop you. What if the kids had heard you?”
Oh, this was the perfect time to point out that Sam and Gus had become parents of four adopted wolves. Four—from seventeen to five. Connor loved it. He especially loved how inarticulate and amazed Gus was about being a dad.
“The older two would say, ‘Ewwwww,’ and the younger ones would have no idea.”
“They’d better not,” Sam snarled. “My baby girls will never ever….”
Connor started hooting, just tickled as a pig in shit.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. You want another beer, anyone?” Gus rose, and Connor knew he would go check on the kids while he was in there.
“I’ll take one if y’all are.” He wasn’t as tall as either Gus or Sam, but he was stocky, and he could hold his beer with anyone.
“I’d love one, babe.” Sam watched Gus go, then turned to Connor, grinning hugely. “He doesn’t know I got five pounds of smoked salmon for the moon.”
“Oh, you’re a bad kitty. I knew I liked you for a reason.” He stretched, his back popping. “So seriously, how’s things? You have enough little ones to populate Montana.”
“I know, right? Pete needs to stay off his girl.” Pete was Gus’s younger brother, and he and his wife had a lot of kids. A lot.
“Yeah, she’s on her third litter? That’s just a little nuts.”
“At least the last one was only two, and the doctor only hears a single heartbeat this time.”
“Oh, so she hasn’t caught up with Gray and Marina’s single set….” Because eight babies. Eight.
“Not yet, but Marina hasn’t caught pregnant again.” Sam chuckled. “Now we have a coyote.”
“He seems to be solid—a little scrambled, but dear.” Connor set aside his empty beer bottle. “He says he can’t remember much about his life before. I found him in El Paso, but he don’t sound like one of us Texans.”
“No, he doesn’t sound like you, for sure.” Sam waggled an eyebrow.
“No. No, not my type. Adorable, but I have enough flakiness for any relationship.” Hell, he had enough flakiness to make any guy run like a rabbit that had heard a hound bay on hunting day.
“You’re unique,” Gus said when he came back out, beers in hand. “Here, man.”
“You’re too kind.” He clinked bottles with both men. “Y’all sure you want me here ’til after the moon?”
Because he was feeling the need to sit and stay for a few days. Catnip and salmon….
Gus was the one he worried about, and Gus just shot him a frown. “Don’t be any stupider than you have to be, Con. Stay as long as you want.”
“Of course you’re staying. There’s a bag of catnip, a full moon, and a pack full of kids desperate to hang with you. Lisle and Bella are learning ballet. You have to see them. And Randi’s a whiz at the computer. Shit, Richie wants to be a doctor now. He’s applying to colleges and everything.”
“No kidding?” Wow. Richie was a bright kid. “Well, if he needs a ride anywhere when he’s ready, I’m his guy.”
“He wants to go to Texas, for fuck’s sake. Texas.”
“Well, I got family near Dallas. He’ll have protection.” That actually made him feel good, to be able to offer help.
Sam gave him a relieved look. “Seriously? That would be great.”
“A sister and her mate. They have three teenagers.” They weren’t close, but they weren’t fighting. They were just… siblings.
His sis would think looking after a wolf was a little weird, but she would do it for him, especially if Richie was in med school. Hannah was a nurse.
“See? You’re finding homes for people that aren’t even lost yet. We have over a year, but he’s eager.” Sam’s rumble was low, pleased, and it made Connor feel good.
Not “sexy kitty rub-rub” good, but “pleased with himself and happy to help” good.
Gus clinked their bottles one more time, then drained his beer. “I’m ready to head to bed, Puss.”
“I’m going to get Connor’s bed made up with fresh sheets.”
“Like they weren’t clean when I left, Sam.” Sam was so fastidious.
“Who knows who’s been napping in there, Con.” Sam’s wrinkled nose spoke volumes. “Come on, and I’ll give you some towels too.”
“Works for me. Good night, Gus. I promise not to keep him up too late.”
“Night, Con.” Gus followed them inside but headed for the master suite side of the house.
“I’m glad you came home for a while, Connor.”
“Yep. I just enjoy having you around to visit with,” Sam murmured.
Well, that made him purr, bump shoulders with his very good friend, his pride mate. “It’s good to have a room.”
“I’m glad. You always have a place here. Always.” Sam moved to the linen closet, grabbed sheets and towels to hand to him.
He took the sheets and headed to the weird little third-floor nook that was his. There was a window and a bed, a dresser and his guitar collection. His place. He loved jumping up the little ladder in kitty form, but his human self adored the view and the privacy. Connor thought a loft was maybe his natural habitat.
“Night, Connor!” Sam called.
“Good night, Sammy. Holler if you need me.”
He made his bed and opened the window, the air pouring in. The smell of high desert and mountain air made him smile, and he breathed deep, his chest expanding.
It was good to be home.
Weird, but good.
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds and her beloved wife, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.
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