The front cover blurb reads: An Erotic Historical Tale. It is rated NC-17. Isaac Ellison, a part-albino cheetah (with unusually pale fur and a beefy physique like a Marine), and his inventor buddy, Raziel, a humanoid reptile (“He looked quite draconic, but slender as opposed to the more bulky builds of lore. Small spines dotted his scalp where eyebrows would be, and two long, black horns swept back almost uniformly with his fire colored mane that consisted of fur and light feathering, before the mane started springing out wildly in any direction it damn well pleased.” –p. 7), go back in time to an anthropomorphic Ancient Egypt. The Egyptians mistake them for warrior and fertility gods, and a tremendous amount of enthusiastic sex is had by all. In fact, until the ending, The Jackal Queen hardly offers anything but. Isaac and Raziel worry about changing history, but not much.
This is a mature content book. Please ensure that you are of legal age to purchase this material in your state or region. (publisher's rating)
Scott Beecham, a young U.S. soldier, is killed in action and brought back to life as a bioengineered part-human, part-jackal “dog-man” member of a secret team of government super-animal-men agents.
In most stories, that would be just the setup for much action. In Pile, that is the story. This novella is a quiet mood-piece about Scott’s awakening in what he assumes to be his army barracks to discover that he is no longer human:
I was alive! I couldn’t feel much yet, but if I was thinking, it meant I was still here. Everything else was just going to have to follow. Right hand? Yeah, I could do that, too. In fact, I could feel my right hand. There was something in it. Something I could form a fist around and squeeze. I did that, and I felt whatever was between my fingers bend a bit. (p. 3)
I opened my mouth, and I could feel senses slowly filing back into place. I could taste the air. There were chemicals: bleach, ammonia, rubbing alcohol, and something sweet. I could smell them, too, every bit of them. I could also smell the dog-girl who was leaning over me. She smelled like the sharp smell of water on roofing tar that came in my window every morning after it’d rained.
I could even smell a cat somewhere around. Since when did the army barracks have a veterinary ward? (pgs. 4-5)
Graveyard Greg explains in his Foreword how he came to write this novel. Firstly, there was the Second Life virtual-reality world, for which he created a jackal persona with a red Mohawk wearing black jeans and red sunglasses. Secondly, there was his brief job as a barista at a Starbucks. Thirdly, there was John “The Gneech” Robey’s series Fictionlets: The Extremely Brief Adventures of Bridgid and Greg, each of 400 words or less. Fourthly, there was his own imagination, which blended them together, named his jackal Venti and gave him a job as a part-time barista at a Starbucks clone, and he was off and running in a series of short-short-short chapters of one page or slightly over each. Voilà; Welcome to Cappuccinos! (exclamation point optional).
Researchers have found that Egyptian Jackal is actually a member of the Grey Wolf species complex. [thesaprophelite/a.f.f]
Phylogenetic testing confirmed that the species – previously classified as a sub-species of the Golden Jackal – is most closely related to the Indian and Himalayan Wolf, confirming long-held suspicions over its heriatige.