Read Legend of the Gypsy Queen Skull: The Devil's Triangle - Book 1 for Free Online

from Heinz, perched
in the kitchen’s bay window sill, was Tinnie’s cat, Muenster. He
was a large black stray she’d adopted a year ago, after he started
following her home from school. The collar he was wearing at the
time had a tag on it that simply read Muenster Cheese . There
was no mention of a phone number or an address. Nor did the vet
find a microchip implanted in him when she scanned him.
    Tinnie had posted lost-and-found fliers of
Muenster throughout the neighborhood, but no one ever claimed him.
In the meantime, the two became inseparable, and Muenster soon
became an official member of the family. At first she tried naming
him her movie idol, Bruce Lee , after the martial arts
legend. But the finicky feline would only answer to the name
Muenster, and so it stuck. To this day wherever Tinnie went, he
went as well.
    ~*~
    Muenster, swishing his long white-tipped
tail back and forth, sat fixated on the birds outside. They were
just a few feet away from the window bathing in the stone bird bath
as his tail began to puff up. Tensing his shoulders and lowering
back his ears, he started snapping his lower jaw, cackling at the
birds. Like a ticking time bomb, he seemed poised to explode
through the window at any moment to get at them.
    Not heeding any of the obvious feline danger
warning signs, Paul reached over and stroked his back.
    “Hey buddy, you watching the–” but before he
could finish, his hand was already receiving the business ends of
Muenster’s claws and fangs.
    “Holy son of a–!” Paul shrilled out in pain,
coddling his bleeding hand.
    Fully puffed-up and hissing, Muenster zoomed
into the next room for safer ground under the formal dining room
table.
    “Dad! What’d you do?” Tinnie cried out,
running after her cat.
    Manny, ever vigilant, sprung up from his
chair and quickly wrapped a paper napkin around his dad’s wounded
hand.
    “Pops, ya gotta be quicker than that,” he
joked.
    ~*~
    Manny was the epitome of a good kid and was
always the first to offer a helping hand. Originally from Mexico,
he was muscular for a teen his age and had long, wavy dark hair.
Like his mom, he could go and go, and loved most sports, but
wrestling for his junior high school was his thing. He also served
as a great sparring partner for Tinnie whenever she would prepare
for her next martial arts tournament. Having recently received his
lifesaving certification, he was looking forward to working as a
lifeguard at their local water park next summer.
    Margie and Paul adopted Manny when he was
only three from a Catholic orphanage in south central Mexico, near
the Yucatan Peninsula. The nuns who lived there didn’t know much
about him but believed he was of Mayan heritage. When he was just a
baby, he’d been left on the orphanage’s doorstep one night, wrapped
in a blanket with a note pinned to it that simply read Manuel .
    The nuns were happy their Santito Manuel had
found a home but were understandably heartbroken. When he walked
out the front gate with his new parents and turned and waved
goodbye, they all broke down in tears. Even now, every year on his
birthday the sisters still send him a card with La Santa Madre, the Holy Mother , printed on it.
    ~*~
    Manny, putting his new first aid skills to
work, held his dad’s hand up above his heart as he walked him
toward his mom.
    Meanwhile, Heinz was winding everyone up,
repeatedly clicking on an audio laugh track on his notepad.
    Ah, Ha-Ha-Ha! Ah, Ha-Ha-Ha! the loop
bellowed out over and over.
    “Enough!” Margie scolded him, as she pulled
a bottle of bourbon out of an overhead cabinet.
    Heinz giggled under his breath before
turning his attention back to his article.
    “Over here,” Margie said in her sweet voice,
waving Manny and Paul over to her.
    Standing at the sink, the teen helped his
mom unwrap his dad’s hand while Paul bit his lip. Wrinkling his
forehead the father of three squeamishly asked, “Are you sure this
is necessary?”
    “Uh-huh,” she