That Rex Gotta Roar - Julia Mills Page 0,7

I had always thought of as Our Place, I skidded to a stop, opened my mouth, and spat, “What the hell are you doing here and how the hell do I send you back?”

Chapter Three

"I mean, what the ever-lovin'…" Five words into what I knew was to be the best rant I had ever delivered in my whole life, I was utterly denied. I mean, it was going to be epic and audacious, absolutely the most legendary haranguin' ever spoken in the world as we know it, but somethings just are never meant to be. This was one of them.

I was powered up and about to go supernova when the newest member of my Flock, Jenn, a Pterodactyl Shifter and the sister of my hunka-hunka-prehistoric hottie, stepped forward with her hands up in surrender and an apology on her lips. There was literally nothing else I could do. I had to shut up and listen. It was no longer critical for me to pluck Cora like she was Tommy Turkey, and it was Thanksgiving Eve. My sole purpose became doing everything in my power to make Jenn feel better.

But first, I had to get a word in edgewise, which proved to be more difficult than it sounded.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I didn’t know you were talkin’ to Cora. I mean, I didn’t even know Cora existed until a few minutes ago. Well, I’d heard you talk about her, but never met her. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I was on the phone with Zelda about the ghost at Thomas Manor. We need help. It’s outta control. I didn’t know who else to call. I mean, come on who else is there to call when your old Auntie who was a Triceratops Shifter is dead but not dead, you know?" Her head was nodding. Her hands were going in every direction. The words were flying out of her mouth so quickly I caught about every third or fourth one.

“I know it’s Auntie Mabel. I know she's tryin' to tell us somethin'. I know it has to be really important for her to take time out of what she said would be her Big Vacay in the Sky to try to contact Tank and me. I know I should understand. We, me and my big bro, should most definitely have figured it out by now. We were her favorites. Talked to her all the time. Heck, Tank even wrote her and sent postcards from all over the world."

"We knew her like nobody else, except her Hubby, Uncle Clyde, but he's dead, too, so, she wouldn't be tryin' to talk to him." Getting her fingers tangled in her long, auburn hair as she frantically pushed through those gorgeous locks, the words coming faster and faster, my soon-to-be sister-in-law was more frantic than a WalMart Greeter on Black Friday with laryngitis. "But we don't. We just don't. We can't figure it out to save our souls. It's crazy. Absolutely insane. Not Bailmore Hall kooky, but unreal all the same. It's too much for us to handle. Shit's gone from just annoying to scary serious. We needed help. And I didn't wanna bother y'all. You've been so good to us. So accepting. So welcoming. It just didn't seem right to bother y'all for more help."

(At the mention of my Mate’s name, I might have swooned just the tiniest little bit. Not so that anyone noticed, but in my heart, on the inside, there was a definite pitter-pat, thump-thump-thump, happy sigh, ya' know what I mean? Deep in there, where I know beyond all shadow of a doubt that Tank was made for me and I was made for him. It was just a second, a flash really. Nothing anybody saw or knew about. Well, I knew, but that's cool. Oh, and Cassandra knew, but, well, that goes without saying. But it doesn't make me a bad friend, 'cause I went right back to giving Jenn my undivided attention. Well, shit, now, I'm the one who's ramblin'. Oh, screw it! The point is that it did happen, and it further proved that I needed to talk to my big hunka-hunka-prehistoric hotness sooner rather than later.

Thankfully, my soon-to-be sister-in-law was still explaining at a high rate of speed, kinda circlin' back around for the recap. So, I hadn't missed much with my little love break.)

"We just can't get anything done. I clean the cobwebs off the chandelier in the dining room, and