Hey y’all! So the wonderful Megan Frampton decided to let me convince her to step out of her comfort zone, and write about a parrot shifter. I really loved seeing all the different directions people took with their stories, and think it gives you a good idea (yet a different look) at each style. I hope you enjoy this!
I took the knife and made a sharp, careful incision into the orange. The peel came off in regular-sized chunks, dropping onto the cutting board.
My boyfriend Drake heaved a great sigh next to me. “Not pare it, Polly. Parrot. You know, like the bird?”
I stopped the movement of my hands and tilted my head to look at him. “Parrot? Are you sure it wasn’t pair it? Like the way cookies and cream, or bacon and eggs, or lamb and mint sauce—“
He grabbed my elbow and shook it in frustration. He was frustrated a lot; mostly because lately everything I said seemed to make him upset. He used to think it was cute when I repeated what he said, especially if I did it using the same inflection he did. But not anymore.
I wondered if it was because of the crowd he’d started running with—they called themselves the Pirates, and they’d adopted Drake as a sort of mascot. I couldn’t tell many of them apart, since they all sported long beards and spoke in slang I didn’t understand, and Drake wouldn’t explain to me—I mean, “hornswaggle? Shiver me timbers?” What the what?
“It’s not pair it, or pare it, or—“
“Pear it!” I shouted, waving the knife way too close to his face. “Like when you drink Poire Williams, and you need something to go with. In which case, wouldn’t it be clearer to say ‘cheese it?’ Although then someone might think you meant something else entirely.”
He rolled his eyes and removed the knife from my hand.
“I do mean something else entirely. I’m trying to tell you…”
“Trying to tell me?” I echoed back.
He sighed again, an exhalation that blew my feather earrings back into my hair. “You’re a shifter, Polly, but not just any shifter.”
“A shifter? Are you saying I’m shifty?”
His Mohawk, dyed a multitude of colors, waggled in the air as he gave a vehement shake of his head. “No. Not shifty. Geez, where do you learn these things?”
I knew it would make him squawk if I said it was from him.
“So. A shifter. What about a shifter?” Saying the word made me want to move around, so I did, shifting back from him in my usual duck-footed fashion.
“You’re a shifter. A parrot shifter,” he said.
I stared at him, too hen-witted to parse what he was saying.
And then it hit me.
And I pecked at him the only way I knew how. “Parrot shifter, huh? That’s for the birds, Drake.”
Also? Random House has set up a blog hop for Megan Frampton that I’m part of – there’s a giveaway they’re hosting too. It officially starts on Sunday, so please remember to come back and enter! (NB: Megan’s new book Hero of my Heart is out April 8th!)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Be sure to hit up all the other blogs for more chances to win!
Now, what I want to know is – what did you guys think of all these little stories Laura Hunsaker, Sorcha Mowbray, Heather Lire, and Megan Frampton wrote for us? Have you read all of them? Would you like to read more creative contributions for ALBTALBS dares? 😀