Page 1 of Tamed By the Lion Freak

Chapter One

The stench of cheapwhiskey and stale cigarettes assaulted Kitty's nostrils as she slouched in the grimy bar booth. Her fingers traced the deep scratches on her forearm, still livid against her pale skin. Six months, and they hadn't faded. Neither had the memories. Neither had her notoriety.

Justice for Brutus!was still a trending hashtag.

And she was a meme for failure and ridicule.

She’d lost her job, her lover, her friends, and her home.

But she missed her lions most of all.

Kitty's gaze fell to her chipped nail polish, once a vibrant red, now peeling and faded. Just like her dreams. She tugged at the hem of her worn tank top, suddenly self-conscious of how it clung to her curves. Once, she'd reveled in the attention her body drew. Now, she wished she could disappear.

She had been an animal trainer. Of course, the circus she had performed at called her a lion tamer. She had been their social media star with her sexy outfits and her garish makeup vids. But it was her show inside the ring that had brought people into the circus. The circus had touted her as the new Siegfried and Roy. There had been talk about her taking her show to Vegas.

The jukebox in the corner crackled to life, a mournful country song filling the air. Kitty closed her eyes, letting the melancholy tune wash over her. For a moment, she imagined herself back in the ring as she guided her beloved lions through their routine. Brutus, majestic and powerful. Nala and Sarabi, lithe and graceful, they were all magical together.

A sob caught in her throat. God, she missed them.

Her fingers itched to look up what had happened to them after the accident. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was terrified of what she might find.

"Hey, ain't you that lion lady?"

Kitty's head snapped up, the illusion shattered. A man with a patchy beard and bloodshot eyes swayed before her, pointing an unsteady finger.

"The one who let that cat maul that fella. Saw it on YouTube."

Bile rose in Kitty's throat, bitter and burning. She gripped her glass tighter, knuckles whitening. "You don't know what you're talking about," she growled, her voice hoarse from disuse and too much whiskey.

The man's face twisted into a leer. "Sure I do. You're that Wylde woman. The one who can't control her pussy—"

"Leave me alone," Kitty snarled, rising to her full height. For a moment, she felt it again – the power, the command. The man must have sensed it too. He retreated, muttering curses.

As the adrenaline faded, reality crashed back. Heads turned, whispers rippled. Kitty slumped back into the booth, the familiar weight of shame and anger settling on her shoulders. She hugged herself, suddenly cold despite the bar's stuffy warmth.

"That's enough, Wylde," the bartender called. "Time to hit the road."

Kitty didn't argue. She tossed some crumpled bills on the table and stumbled out into the night. The cool air hit her like a slap, clearing some of the funk of depression and self-pity.

Her truck sat alone in the parking lot, a rusted hulk that had seen better days. Just like her. Kitty fumbled with the keys, cursing as she dropped them in a puddle. The splash echoed in the empty lot, a sad punctuation to her fumbling attempts.

As she bent to retrieve them, a flash of color caught her eye. A poster danced in the wind and came to rest by her scuffed boots. 'Twisted Carnival,' it proclaimed in lurid letters. 'Where Dreams and Nightmares Collide. This weekend only.' There was an address written on the bottom. It wasn’t too far away.

What were the chances they needed a lion tamer?

What were the chances that they never heard of her?

Slim to none.

And yet ...

Kitty straightened, keys forgotten. Something about the image tugged at her. The promises it whispered. A new start. A place where her past might not matter.

A place where she might belong again.

Maybe she could do carnie work until she got back on her feet. Maybe she could find a new family. One who wouldn’t dump her at the first sign of trouble.

Maybe even a new love.

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