Category: 500 to 1000 Words

Packing Up

This is a story of Manuel the miscreant werewolf and his human mate, the intrepid inventor Ellory. They have made previous appearances in

TOMORROW MORNING, when Sci Spanks 2015 starts, Ellory and Manuel will be coming to you in their  newest adventure, Counting Sheep. Get yourself all set for Sci Spanks here: Play Sci Spanks 2015

Meanwhile, enjoy another morsel of time with Ellory and Manuel.


January, 1864

Manuel propped his elbow on the arm of his “Alpha Seat” and rested his head against his fist. He bit back a yawn as his Beta, Gerald Worthington, continued plowing through the agenda.

“And as for the question of how far Mr. Tildon’s territory extends,” Worthington droned, “Mr. Barnes will be surveying the measurements this week and will report back on any discrepancies between the size of Mr. Tildon’s territory compared to the territories of the rest of the pack. At that point — “

Enough.” Manuel interrupted, pounding his fist on the arm of his oversized chair. “First it was which of us should attend which social events to keep up with London politics. Then it was whether we should invest in a pack tailor, to ensure all of us properly represent the pack – despite the fact that no one knows we exist. Now it’s equalizing territories by inches.” Every eye in the room had grown wide during his outburst. “I have decided this is the most boring pack in the history of packs.”

Several of the pale men turned red around the collar. Worthington cleared his throat. “As you know, Alpha Pilar — “

Manuel snorted. “Stop calling me that.”

Worthington hesitated only a blink before continuing, “Territory agreements are the primary way we reduce our need for succumbing to our vile natures and engaging in –”

Manuel held up a hand. “Werewolves don’t negotiate territory by contract and measurement. Our natures aren’t vile. And a dominance battle is good for the soul.” He waved at the cups around the room, “I am done with all this tea. And these meetings. And this resistance to accepting your true selves.”

Worthington turned red and trembled now. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed Alpha Gilman.”

Good. Anger is good.

“Ah, there is backbone in there after all. Excellent. And we all well know that Gilman is dead because he came after me for simply moving to London and having roots in Mexica. Had I known what I’d be in for with this pack, I might have let him kill me.”

“You — You — You — “ Worthington’s teeth dropped to points as long as Manuel’s index finger. “Dominance battles are good for the soul are they? Then it’s past time I challenge you!”

Enough control for a partial shift. Good, again.

“Well and good. I submit.” Manuel replied. Worthington blinked. “You be the Alpha. I’m going home.”

“To Mexica?” One of the pack members asked hopefully.

“No, you dimwit. To Bayswater.”

Back at the townhouse he shared with Ellory, Manuel crawled into bed next to his mate. Ellory sat against the headboard with his nose in a book full of math. Manuel curled up with this head on Ellory’s lap and growled in soft contentment when Ellory finger-combed his hair.

“How was the meeting?” Ellory asked.

“I quit.”

“Took longer than I expected.”

“I want to move to Wales.”

“To do what? Be the lone wolf in sheep country?”

“There’s a pack there.” Manuel picked at the blankets covering Ellory’s legs. “They don’t exactly like me yet, but I’m sure I can fix that.”

Ellory snorted, his nose still buried in his book, giving Manuel half an ear at best. “And my workshop?” He slid a hand inside the collar of Manuel’s shirt, kneading the muscles there.

Manuel nuzzled Ellory’s thigh and answered, “The home’s on plenty of land, so I took the liberty of having a second building designed just for you.”

“Mmmmm.” Ellory gently squeezed the back of Manuel’s neck, sending pleasant shivers down his spine before stopping short. “What home?”

“Our new one in Wales.”

“Our new home in — Manuel.”

Manuel turned his head to see Ellory’s face. “I love you?”

“Yes. And I’m going to love you right up until I strangle the life out of you.”

Manuel grinned. “I love it when you say nice things to me.”

Spare Parts

This is a story of Manuel the miscreant werewolf and his human mate, the intrepid inventor Ellory. They have made previous appearances in

In just two days, when Sci Spanks 2015 starts, Ellory and Manuel will be coming to you in their  newest adventure. Get yourself all set for Sci Spanks here: Play Sci Spanks 2015

Meanwhile, enjoy another morsel of time with Ellory and Manuel.


November 1863

As he stepped out of the carriage, Ellory glimpsed Manuel leaping from the roof of Elegance by the Yard to the roof of Pieces of Invention. One day, someone would catch him up there, and Manuel would have to explain why a gentleman of his position preferred traversing rooftops to traveling by carriage.

Ellory’s wolf mate needed another weekend away to run unfettered in his wolf form. He’d needed them more and more frequently of late. Maybe moving to London was a bad idea.

Pachelbel’s Canon blared Ellory’s entry when he opened the door to Pieces of Invention. The ceiling-mounted music horn vibrated under its own volume.

Mr. Plum!” Ellory shouted, slapping his hands over his ears. “What happened to the bells?

WHAT?” Came a voice from behind shelves overflowing with bins of metal tubing, gears in a massive array of sizes and weights, and some of the rarer tools an inventor might need.

Ellory sighed and meandered through the shelves toward the voice. By the time he reached the bins of metal in large flat sheets, Pachelbel’s Canon had come to its blissful conclusion.

“Mr. Plum?”

“Oh!” A portly man wearing a pair of magnifying goggles on his face and another set on his bald head popped up behind the sales counter. “Mr. Granger!” The older fellow twisted his hands in his apron. Nerves? No reason for those.

“I’ve come for the items that have been on order. I received notice they had arrived?” Sweat beaded on Mr. Plum’s forehead. Definitely nerves. “It seems something’s the matter. Was the notice in error?”

Mr. Plum hesitated and twisted his apron up so tightly Ellory feared it would tear. “Well, it’s like this, Mr. Granger. The Earl, he –”

Again?” The man had bought his last two orders out from under Ellory. “This is the third time, Mr. Plum. I am completely stalled on rebuilding the time machine without these parts. I thought we ordered extras to prevent this.”

“Well, y-yes, we did.” The small round man released his apron and mopped his head with a handkerchief. “The man he sent … he … he bought all three, sir.”

“How did he even know you had that many?”

The back door to the shop crashed open, making Ellory jump backward and forcing a strangled screech from the shopkeeper. A raggedy young man tumbled in and landed face-down and trembling on the floor. Manuel sauntered in behind him. “I expect he was informed by this young man. He was kind enough to tell me that his job is to listen at the window when you come in to place orders. I would like to maim him, but I suspected you would want to talk to him first.”

Ellory squatted down to the unwashed man at his feet. Or boy rather. “You work for the Earl, do you?”

“Please, sir,” the boy whined. “Don’t let him hurt me. He said he bites.”

Ellory looked up at Manuel, who shrugged. “It worked. We had a nice conversation.”

Shaking his head, Ellory turned his attention back to the boy. “He won’t lay a finger on you. You have my word. What do you know about the Earl and my orders?”

“Only that you aren’t supposed to get them, sir. And maybe he’s working on his own machine. Maybe he wants to be the only person with one of them machines.”

Manuel growled under his breath, but not low enough to keep the others from hearing. The boy pressed himself further into the floor with a whimper, and the shopkeeper disappeared beneath his sales counter.

Ellory sighed. “Enough. Put the boy back outside where you found him. We don’t want the Earl knowing he talked to us.”

“But –” Manuel started.

“No. No maiming. I gave my word.” Ellory rapped on the counter, and Mr. Plum peeked up over the edge. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Plum. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

Back in the carriage, Manuel grumbled. “I hate these things.”

Ellory sighed. “It’s a private place to talk. If the Earl is really spying on my work, I won’t be able to accomplish much, if anything, in a timely manner.”

Manuel just grunted.

“Very helpful, love. I believe London’s getting to you again. It’s only been a month since your last run.”

Manuel grunted again.

“You could run more often if you would just use the land and pastures outside the edges of London. Why must you wait until you can travel to Wales?”

“No matter how far I run, it smells like sweaty people, refuse, and factory smoke.”

“What does Wales smell like?”

“Ocean. Fresh grass. And sheep.”


“Sheep smell quite pleasant.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Explosive Tendencies

A year ago, Manuel the miscreant werewolf submitted to his human mate, the intrepid inventor Ellory, for the very first time. The story of that beginning can be found in the Sci Spanks 2014 AnthologyIn just a week, when Sci Spanks 2015 starts, Ellory and Manuel will be coming to you in a new adventure. Leading up to that adventure, here’s a tidbit to whet your appetite.

Note: The story below is not an excerpt from the upcoming Sci Spanks story. You’ll have to enjoy the event to get that one, – more info here


September 1863

“Ellory!” Manuel kicked the front door shut behind himself. He dropped his bags on the floor and collapsed back against the wood. Their townhouse in London’s Bayswater was fashionable enough for the man in him, but too confining for his wolf. Just his carriage ride from the rail station had leeched away most of the comfort from his weekend run in Wales.  “Ellory!

Gretel, their newest maid, scurried up, trembling. Why are they always so scared of me? Manuel gave the girl a big smile, and she flinched back. Too much tooth, maybe. He tried smiling with his lips closed. It didn’t seem to help. Dios, she doesn’t even know I’m a wolf. “Good day, Gretel. Where is Ellory?”

“Mr. Granger is — “ A resounding BOOM shook the townhouse.

Manuel loosed a string of curses and took off for his mate’s workshop. Even with the workshop entrance being an underground sound-dampened space, Manuel could hear Ellory coughing. Not dead yet.

When he reached the kitchen, he pulled the shop’s trapdoor entrance from its hinges. Ellory was already at the top, but Manuel reached down, grabbed the front of his mate’s waistcoat, and yanked him up into the room.

“Ow!” Ellory batted Manuel away, leaned over, propped his hands on his knees, and hacked some more. Ellory’s dark brown skin wore even darker smudges of ash and oil. His hair was singed just above his right ear, and the bottom of his copper satin waistcoat smoldered. Manuel pulled Ellory back up, formed a claw and slashed down the buttons.

Ellory choked out, “Wha –” before Manuel shoved the waistcoat off his mate’s shoulders, threw it to the ground and stomped it to death. “Manuel, that was one of my favorites,” Ellory glowered.

Manuel waved his hand up and down Ellory’s visage while giving the clothing a few last stomps. “It was on fire, Ell. Is anything else on you still burning?” He circled the man, smelling for unseen damage but turning up nothing.

“Cut it out,” Ellory sighed, “I turned on all the fire safety devices and water sprayers before I came up. I don’t even know how many notes and diagrams I’m going to lose. The motorized self-fueling gyrocycle … well, I think I have a way to go.”

Manuel raised an eyebrow. “Do you now? I never would have guessed.”

“Shush and tell me hello properly.”

Relieved, Manuel pulled his mate into his arms. “I missed you,” he whispered, nuzzling Ellory’s neck.

“How much?”

Underneath the smoke, Manuel breathed in the tang of metal he would forever associate with Ellory. And underneath that was nothing but pure Ellory. Mine. He flicked his tongue out for taste of Ellory’s skin. Ellory grabbed Manuel’s hair and pulled his head up. “No teasing.”

He took Manuel’s lips like a man possessed. There was no room for breath, no tenderness, nothing gentle. Just heat, teeth, tongue, and desperation. Too long. The mangled thought skittered across Manuel’s mind. I left him too long.

Manuel gave back as good as he got, until they broke apart panting. “We should go down there and turn off your water things before you flood your workshop.” Manuel said.

“They’re self terminating.” Ellory gave him that wicked half smile and shoved Manuel toward the house. “Bedroom. Now.”

Another BOOM rattled the floor beneath them hard enough to send them both stumbling. Gretel screamed from elsewhere in the townhouse, and Manuel’s ears told him at least four glass objects crashed to their deaths.

Manuel picked up Ellory and threw him out of the kitchen into the hallway. Ignoring his mate’s squawk of displeasure, Manuel jumped feet-first down the chute to the workshop. He landed in a crouch at the bottom and scented the air while he let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

The gas lamps had been doused by the water, and only emergency aether-based lighting glowed around the base of the large room. “Nothing’s on fire!” He called up.

“Then I’m coming in.” Ellory scrambled down, face screwed up in anger. He slugged Manuel hard in the arm. “And you aren’t anymore fire proof than I am.”

Manuel curled his lip in a low growl of warning, but it took only a stinging slap to his backside to remind him he wasn’t alpha in his home. Only two months ago Manuel had submitted to his human mate, surprising both himself and Ellory. As Alpha of the London pack, Manuel couldn’t fathom why submission in his home felt so right, and he’d just about decided he didn’t care.

“What do you hear?” Ellory asked.

“Water dripping. The occasional tick of metal settling from overheating. Steam wheezing – leaking from somewhere, maybe.”

“How bad does it look?”

Manuel surveyed the room with the advantageous vision granted him by his wolf. “Your odd cycling machine –”

“Motorized self-fueling gyrocycle.”

“Yes, that. It’s more of an abstract metal structure at the moment. And — “ Manuel hissed. “The time machine, Ell. I’m so sorry.”

“The time machine what?” Ellory charged forward and fumbled on the damp gas lamps along the wall. “No.

The force of the explosions had rattled many of the machine’s tentacled steam tubes apart. Some pieces still dangled uselessly in the air, while the rest littered the floor in various states of destruction. A crack in the transport chamber ran from the roof downward, splitting a full section of the control panel. Manuel approached Ellory and pulled him close, burying his mate’s face against his chest, blocking the gory sight.

Years. Years of Ellory’s work reduced to a pile of scrap.


Want more Ellory and Manuel? Read the next installment: Spare Parts

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