# A Good Anthro Book



## michelay (Aug 20, 2008)

Hey, guys. 

Just announcing the new book I just realeased called Silver Foxes. *** *Not for those under 13****It details the story of J.R. Dunsworth, a wolf who finds two fox kits in the middle of the ruins of Jelu . . . and they basically turn his life upside down, especially after they get kidnapped by the leader of the GFG Corporation.

You can get more information on the book and characters by visiting my website: 
http://www.lyeland.com/mybooks.html (profiles here: http://www.lyeland.com/characters.html )

Here's a preview:




Prologue

An excerpt pieced together from the remains of _Truths Behind the Legends: A dictionary of your favorite myths and the truths they were based on_, a book found in Jelu shortly after its destruction. 
Sil[ver F]oxes: n. refers to a race of [foxes] who . . . silver in color . . . entries in . . . and myths. Most common reference in f[airy tales], usu. . . . beautiful princess . . . a Silver Fox . . . her rescue.
The Myth: Long ago when the universe was young, the planet Clorth stood on the brink of destru[ctio]n. [The inhabitants] were found guilty of treason [against the gods] . . . [but] the wise man, Deedanus, appeased the gods by offering to them any one thing . . . desired. Flousa, the goddess of nature, chose for herself a certain flower . . . deemed worthy. Disutrine, god[dess of be]auty, reserved the right to choose any man or woman, boy [or girl] to serve . . . [in] her temple. Ham[atan, god of war], choose the iron smithies . . . weapons were made. All the gods and goddesses chose . . . except Rophim, [god of storms], king of the gods. He found nothing to appease him . . . [and vowed to] destroy Clorth . . . [if he] could not be appeased by . . . moon rose over the mountain o[f the go]ds, a thing that happened once [a year].
[A year passed and] he found nothing to appease him . . . [As] Rophim walked through the woods on the east of the river GordÃ³n . . . he came upon a beautiful vixen . . .[her]bs in the woods. His heart burned . . . he saw her . . . took on the form [of a] fox, and . . . wo[oed] her . . . and took her to be his bride, and . . . was appeased. 
The vixen conceived . . . [and gave birth to] a son, Thrort . . . born with fur ma[de of] silver, and . . . unable to control storms . . . [a]ble to fly, cast lightening bolts, and deflect his enemyâ€™s attacks. He roamed the land righting wrongs and defeating monsters. 
Time passed and his mother grew old. Rophim . . . [brought her] a fruit that grew on the mountain of the gods. Once eaten, this fruit would make her immortal . . . tried to get Thrort, her [son], to eat, but he refused . . .[instead chose to] marry and live among mortals. So Thrort . . . [begat] a son, [ano]ther Silve[r Fo]x. 
. . . Silver Fo[xes] became numerous on Clorth. Some were noble, but far more used [their powers for evil]. Rophim saw this and cursed the line of Thrort . . . [All foxes in his] line were born gray, and only if they proved themselves . . . [regained] the powers of Thrort.

[Explan]ation: Few . . .[believe] Silver Foxes actually existed. Those that do claim . . . were nothing more than . . . 
The remainder of the text was too severely damaged and was unable to be transcribed.




Chapter 1​ 

The sun set on two foxes huddled by the remains of a wall in the middle of a sea of rubble. Clouds of smoke lingered from the ruin and mingled with the dust that was settling. The orange rays of sun filtered through the smoke and dust and shimmered on the wasteland in a haze. Among it all the two foxes sat, almost motionless in the deepening gloom. 
The first fox, a five-year-old kit, was gray. Dust covered her tattered clothes, the bag she clutched, and her black hair; and she sat with her back to the wall holding on to the second fox, a white kit of one year. The white kit whimpered in her sisterâ€™s arms, and it was the whimpering that made the wolf turn aside from his mission.
The wolf went by the name of J.R. Dunsworth, and he stopped what he was doing and stared at the two kits in the ruins. As he watched them, the gray kit gazed up at him. No fear existed in her eyes; she just studied him the way he studied her. He almost asked her why she was sitting alone in the middle of this rubble but decided it was none of his business and turned to go on his way. 
"Hey mister." The gray kit stood. "My sisterâ€™s been crying for a long time. Sheâ€™s hungry. Do you have any milk?"
J.R. halted and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She looked at him with big brown eyes that flashed gold when they caught the light and tilted her head, waiting for an answer.
J.R. knew he should just say no and walk away, but two girls in the middle of this death trap . . . anything could happen to them. They might starve or get captured by slave-finders or . . . J.R. shook his head. Whatever happened to them was not his problem. He had other things to do.
He was about to turn and leave these two on their own when a smile widened on the little girlâ€™s face in direct contrast to the devastation around her. It was a smile that reminded J.R. of the sun peeking through heavy, gray clouds on a winterâ€™s day to melt ice and snow and reveal green grass and flowerbeds. "Mister? Did you hear me?" she said. "Do you have any milk?" 
J.R. started and then sighed and shook his head. He couldnâ€™t leave her here, not with a smile like that. "Yeah, kid," he said. "Iâ€™ll get you some milk." He beckoned her to follow and turned to his speeder, where he set her and her sister on. 
"Where are we going?" the kit asked.
"Weâ€™re going to get your milk." J.R. glanced at the hover platform attached to the speeder and thought about putting them on that but decided against the extra work. "I donâ€™t have any on me." 
The kit giggled. "Of course you donâ€™t have any milk _on_ you. If you did, youâ€™d be all wet." She cackled, almost falling backwards.
A smile slipped onto J.R.â€™s face before he realized it, and he sat on the speeder, started the engine, and sped off. 



Chapter 2​ 


Fifteen minutes later, J.R. cut the engine of his speeder and coasted to a stop in front of a grocery store. The light had faded and the sky had taken on a soft lavender color. The streetlights hadnâ€™t yet come on and in the twilight, J.R. caught sight of a reward poster. His mouth curled into a smirk at the picture of himself, and he glanced at the list of offenses he had committed: Grand Theft, Larceny, Murder, Impersonating the Royal Plumber . . . he chuckled when he remembered that job. Grabbing the door, he took a glimpse at the amount of the reward: one and a half million dollars. 
"Alright!" He walked in, leaving the two kits outside. "I finally broke a million." 
The hushed whispers of people who recognized him from his poster, the murmured questions of those who doubted who he was, and, most satisfying, the hushed squeals of the two female cats he had spoken to the last time he was there reached his ears as he walked in. 
A grin slid onto his face while he made his way past the aisles, glancing at the groceries as he went. He saw bread, cookies, cereal, paper towels . . . everything except milk. He made his way to the cash register. 
"Hi there, girls." He leaned forward on the counter and smiled, revealing sharp, white teeth. "Remember me?"
With a titter and a giggle, one cat said, "How could we forget?" 
J.R. leaned in closer and gave her â€˜the eye.â€™ "Iâ€™m looking for milk. Where can I find it?"
"Refrigerator aisle in the back of the store," the first cat said and, stifling a squeal, pointed in the right direction.
The second cat elbowed her. "I was going to tell him." 
"Youâ€™re too slow," the first whispered.
"Thanks, ladies." J.R. winked at them and sent them into a mass of squeals. He thrust his hands in his pockets and whistled and waltzed to the back of the store where he located the milk. "Letâ€™s see . . . quart, gallon, and half-gallon. Two kits canâ€™t drink thatmuch. I mean, the little one canâ€™t drink more than a quart in a week, right?" He halted and gawked at himself. "It doesnâ€™t matter. They wonâ€™t be with me that long, anyway," he assured himself. "Iâ€™ll just find a nice stoop to drop them off on and be on my way. They can become someone elseâ€™s problem."
He grabbed the quart and walked back to the counter. 
A bulldog stood at the front of the line. His wrinkles looked like a roadmap of Kingston, capital of Drymairad, with its cross-streets and alleyways weaving across each other. Those wrinkles re-enforced his droopy cheeks, and gray hairs peppered his brown and white fur. He clutched his items in his hands and dumped them on the counter. "These prices are ridiculous."
"Theyâ€™re the same as they always were," the second cat, the one that J.R. had yet to flirt with, said.
"Then theyâ€™re always ridiculous," the bulldog said.
J.R. sauntered to the front of the line and leaned toward the cashier. "Hey, miss me?" 
"What do you think youâ€™re doing?" the dog growled.
J.R. whipped his laser pistol from his jacket and pointed it at the dog. "I know you really donâ€™t mind me cutting in front of you, do you, old guy?"
The dog glanced at the gun, stiffened, and shook his head. 
"And because I know Iâ€™m inconveniencing you, and I appreciate it by the way, all your stuff is on me." J.R. smiled widened almost as if he really was doing him a favor.
The dog gathered up his things and fled. 
J.R. stowed his pistol in its place and turned back to the cashier and gazed at her eyes. "Youâ€™re not really going to make me pay for one little carton of milk, are you?"
Her smile extended to fill her face, and she shook her head.
"You are such a good person." J.R. pulled her toward him and kissed her. Then he winked and said, "Later."
The cat collapsed on the counter with a thump. "How can anyone be that evil and that hot at the same time?"
J.R. chuckled to himself and gave her a wink before walking out. 
He almost tripped over the gray kit. She stood just outside the door and gazed up at him with those big eyes. It felt like twenty-pound weight had been thrust into his chest when J.R. remembered the responsibility he had taken on. "Whereâ€™s the other one?" 
The kit pointed to the platform. 
"Hereâ€™s your milk, kid," J.R. said.
"Thank you." After taking the milk from J.R., she climbed up on the platform, removed a baby bottle from her bag, and unscrewed the top. Then she turned her attention to the milk carton. First she turned it over and over and, once she found what she thought was the top, pulled and poked and bit at it. 
J.R. chuckled as he watched her attempts. "Want me to get that for you?" 
The kit nodded, and J.R. took the milk carton and opened it. He almost poured it into the bottle for her, but curiosity and a bit of a mean streak got the better of him. He handed back the carton, and the kit, with her tongue coming out of her mouth just a bit, tilted the carton to pour the milk. But it was too heavy for her, and she splashed milk on the platform, on her clothes, and in J.R.â€™s face.
"Oops." She looked up at him. "Sorry."
J.R. wiped milk out of his eyes, snatched the milk from her, and poured it into the bottle for her. 
"Thank you, mister," she said and pulled her sister onto her lap and began feeding her. The white kit chugged it so fast that it looked as if she would choke herself.
Despite the smell of milk in his nose, a smile snuck its way onto J.R.â€™s face. He couldnâ€™t leave them on _any_ stoop, not such an adorable girl. Who knew if the stoop he would leave her on belonged to someone who would sell them into slavery after all his efforts? He couldnâ€™t let that happen.
J.R. scratched the back of his neck and groaned. Heâ€™d have to find someone he could trust, and that would entail a little more thought than he had first realized. 
The white kit burped, and the gray kit put down an empty bottle. 
"That was quick," J.R. said.
"She was hungry," the gray kit said.
"What about you?" J.R. leaned on his speeder. "When was the last time you ate, kid?"
"Yesterday." 
J.R. scratched his ear and crossed his arms. "I guess youâ€™ll want something to eat, too." 
She smiled and nodded.
"Okay." J.R. muttered and mounted the speeder. "Something for the kid."
"Can we ride back here?" the gray kit said. "The frontâ€™s uncomfortable."
J.R. waved her off. "Whatever, kid." 
"My nameâ€™s Xena, mister," the gray kit said. 
J.R. motioned to the white kit. "And whatâ€™s her name?" 
Xena held up her sister. "Kathra." 
"You call me J.R., kid. Iâ€™ve never been a â€˜misterâ€™ before." 
Xena set her sister down and rocked back and forth. "My mommy says itâ€™s not nice to call grown ups by their first name." 
"Your mommy ainâ€™t here." J.R. beamed, his ears standing straight up. A way out had just presented itself. "Where is your mommy? I can drop you off. She must be very worried." 
Xena gazed at her sister, ears falling. "I donâ€™t know. She took us to my Auntie Roseâ€™s house. She said sheâ€™d come back for us, but she never did. Then Auntie Rose said that it wasnâ€™t safe for us at her house and took us to her friendâ€™s house. But then her friend said it wasnâ€™t safe, so she took us to _her_ friendâ€™s house. And then--" She paused and counted. "And then the ground shook, and all the buildings fell down."
J.R. felt his muscles creak, and realized he hadnâ€™t moved since she started speaking. "Arenâ€™t you scared, kid?"
"My mommy said that when I get scared I should pray," Xena said.
J.R. rolled his eyes. "Really?" 
Xena nodded and lifted her eyes. "Iâ€™ve been praying a lot. And--" She beckoned to him. When J.R. leaned down and cocked his ear, Xena clasped it and pulled him down so that her nose tickled the fur inside his ears. "And if I start crying," she whispered. "Kat will cry too. Sheâ€™s a crybaby. So, I donâ€™t cry anymore." She sat up and then shrugged. "But sometimes I do even when I try really hard not to."
Kathra yawned, and Xena repositioned her sister and covered her with a tarp. "Sheâ€™s sleepy," Xena said. "She misses her bed."
J.R. looked at the child. She had lived through the destruction of Jelu and hadnâ€™t been reduced to a blubbering mass. What an extraordinary girl! Had she been bawling when he found her, J.R. would have certainly dumped her on a stoop without a second thought. But she was different; she was brave; she reminded J.R. of himself. J.R. sighed and gazed down the road. Miles of asphalt separated him from the only soft, safe bed that he knew of. He wouldnâ€™t be able to rest until he had given them that, not after all they had been through. "Donâ€™t you worry, kid. Iâ€™ll take care of you."
Xena smiled so wide that it made her squint, and that made J.R. realize exactly what he had done. 
"Am I crazy?" He ran his hands through his hair. "What am I doing?" 
"Youâ€™re finding me something to eat." Xena giggled. "You sure forget easy."
J.R. bit the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists. "Easy, J.R., easy," he muttered. "Youâ€™ll only have to keep them for a few days. Once you find someone suitable, you can dump them and be rid of this problem forever." He started the engine and took off. 



Chapter 3​ 

J.R. rolled over in his bed and groaned. His muscles ached from riding his speeder all night long, and as hard as he tried he could not remember why he had done that. The brown canvas curtains were drawn to keep the sun out, but the numbers from his alarm clock cast a red glow on his blanket. 8:30 am. He had only fallen asleep two hours ago. What had woken him up?
He groaned again, rolled over onto his stomach, and settled in to go back to sleep. The sound of a bowl clattering against a spoon came from the kitchen. J.R. shot up and listened, ears pricked and fur on end. A chair scraped against the kitchen floor. A growl rumbled from the depth of J.R.â€™s throat as he removed his laser pistol from its place inside his pillowcase. The fact that he was a professional thief didnâ€™t mean he would allow anyone else to steal his things. Those intruders were messing with the wrong wolf.
"Kathra, stop wiggling!" a small voice said.
Everything flooded back to him. The "Kid" had fallen asleep after eating one of those fast food kid meals, and he had ridden all night because wanted them to wake up in a warm bed rather than on the cold road. He cursed, stowed his pistol in his pants and covered it with his shirt, and then stumbled into the kitchen. 
He found Xena sitting at the kitchen table with Kathra on her lap. Xena was feeding her sister something brown floating in milk and taking bites of it in between.
"Thereâ€™s nothing to eat in your fridge," she announced.
Kathra giggled and thrashed her arms and legs.
"Is that right?" J.R. stumbled past them and opened the fridge. It was empty except for some beer, baking soda, water, and butter. He retrieved a glass of water seeing as it was too early for alcohol.
"Youâ€™re out of milk, too," Xena said. "And your cerealâ€™s yucky."
J.R. halted and turned to her, ears pricked. "I donâ€™t buy cereal." 
"I found it in your cupboard," Xena said.
He stepped forward and peered into the bowl. Brown, fuzzy chunks of what had once been corn or wheat floated in the white liquid leaving green trails in its wake. "Donâ€™t eat this." 
Xena sighed and thrust her bottom lip out. "But thereâ€™s nothing else to eat in your house. Donâ€™t you go to the store?"
"Not if I can help it," J.R. muttered. "You want to go to the store, then?"
"We can make a list. My mommy does that."
J.R. yawned and shook himself to wake up as Xena yammered on about all the things she wanted. Perhaps it wasnâ€™t too early for alcohol.


It's out on Barnes and Noble online and on amazon.com. If you need more info about it you can check my website: http://lyeland.com

Incidentally, do you all know of any other good anthro books that isn't porn? If so, I would like your suggestions.


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