"Promise?" Moon whispered. "Even with Franco's morning breath?"

"What are you talking about?" he muttered, pulling away some. Tinged-blue tawny skin dusted with whiskers and diamond-like snow framed his broad smile. "I have delightful morning breath."

Crispin let out a yelp from by the door. Jezebel had climbed from my boots up his front and must have deemed him acceptable because she'd folded herself over the top of his head and picked at his ear.

"Let's get ...