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LF, if I get eaten by some kind of forest monster . . .” I wrestle with brambles.
    Whatever is tearing through the forest after me is almost on my heels. I duck behind the thick trunk of a tree, willing LF to pull me out of this nightmare one more time.
    Silence falls around me. It scares me more than hearing my pursuer. I hold my breath and wait, listening for any sound at all.
    The forest is utterly quiet, like all the fat birds are watching me, waiting for me to get eaten by a monster more hideous than anything I’ve ever imagined.
    A loud snort over my shoulder makes me jump. The long tusks and snout of a boar scrape the bark off the tree trunk, floating like some sort of disembodied beast a foot above my head.
    Its eyes glow an unearthly shade of gray.
    Holy hell. My wits at their end, I run.
    Branches snap as the thing behind me runs as well. A scrape of something against a tree and a shadow falls over me, one that makes me stop in place.
    The boar-headed man uses tree trunks like steps to propel himself upwards, soaring five feet over my head. He’s wearing a kilt and, aside from the thickest, most muscular thighs I’ve ever seen, I catch a glimpse of his round ass as he does a perfect somersault in midair and twists, landing ten feet ahead of me, his unusual fog-colored eyes glaring at me.
    I’ve seen large men on television - wrestlers, The Rock, Jason Momoa - but this man embodies the word huge in a way I didn’t think possible. I always found those kind of men sexy. But in person wearing a massive boar head with tusks as dangerous as the small arsenal of weapons he’s carrying?
    Terrifying. The Shadow Knight of Black Moon Draw is strong enough to snap me in two with a couple of fingers, not to mention the weapons strapped to his back that are bigger than I am.
    Why is he in chaps? Seconds before, he wore a kilt. Now, he’s wearing a kilt and motorcycle-style chaps. He didn’t have time to change while flying through the air over my head – I’d have seen it.
    Not only that, but he has a shadow, because it’s noon now instead of almost dark. I don’t think it’s the kingdom; I think LF didn’t bother rereading this scene for consistency. If I wasn’t scared, I’d be annoyed.
    “You forgot to edit this scene,” I whisper to LF, my eyes bugging at the size of the man’s chest and biceps. Leather straps crisscross an otherwise bare, broad, muscular chest, and weapons are strapped to his back, his thighs, and a wound whip at his hip. His biceps are bulging, befitting a man with thighs like tree trunks who also stands a head and a half taller than me and twice as wide.
    I can’t get over the boar’s head. Do they grow pigs that big? Because this doesn’t seem possible.
    Thank god this is a book. Once again, I experience a sense of bravery I’ve never known in real life. Instead of cowering, I decide to see how this plays out.
    “Witch,” the half-man growls in an inhuman voice.
    I swallow hard and remind myself again that just because this seems real, it’s not. It can’t be.
    “N. . . no. You have the wrong person,” I reply. “I was just walking in the forest when you people attacked me.” I inch away, not wanting to take the chance he doesn’t buy my excuse.
    The boar head tilts to the side and he reaches for the whip. “Halt.”
    I do. My heart feels like it’s going to explode. It may not be a bad thing, if that’s what it takes to jar me out of this bizarre place.
    “You wear purple like a witch.”
    “This?” I glance down at the cloak. “I borrowed it.”
    “You wear the witching stone of my kingdom.”
    My hand goes to the medallion at my chest.
    “Tell me you borrowed what belongs to me and no one else.” With the warning growl, the man-beast steps towards me.
    Shit. “Wait, wait!” I hold up my hand. “I can explain!”
    He halts.
    “So maybe I found this, not borrowed it,” I say quickly. “I can see it’s important to you. I’ll take it back to where I found