There's no rest for the weary or authors. *Smiles* I just finished writing Confessions of a Chocoholic, a erotic romance about a single mom. I'll let everyone know more about that story when I know if my submission has been excepted. Until then, I've started on another project, The Quarter. This will be book 1 in my Wolf Born series, which is a paranormal romance (Work in Progress). Hope you enjoy.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss folklore as nothing more than mere legends and myths that are simply too fantastical to be true, because what if those tales of the unbelievable are neither simple or fantasy, but based in the complicated reality of truth?
—London Saint James
Casten Kandee was weary to the bone. He rolled his shoulders while he listened for the sounds of the night. No animals stirred. Even the crickets were silent. Only the wind rustled through the leaves. Overhead, the moon, bright, lit up the sky, casting his long shadow across the crop of trees that edged the bluff. They stood like wise old sentinels with their branches wide, overlooking the abandoned mining camp below. A sense of false serenity surrounded him, but false or not he’d pretend the tranquility was real, even if it were only for a stolen moment.
The unmistakable sound of a twig snapping pulled his thoughts to the fore; interrupting the peace he longed for. He sniffed the air. His brow furrowed. He wasn’t alone. The scent that wafted toward him belonged to only one person.
“Leave me be,” he grumbled through gritted teeth.
“Sneaking off?” The soprano voice was as cold as ice.
“What I do, and where I go, is none of your concern, Celesta.”
“Father won’t be pleased,” his half-sister said.
“You of all people should know I don’t care what does or doesn’t please our father.”
“You’ve always been a sniveling bastard, hiding behind Neeta as if she could protect you from yourself.”
“Go away before things get ugly.” He turned to face his sister. The silver lamé tunic-style evening dress she wore shimmered within the light of the moon, and her bobbed-off hair flirted with her sharp cheekbones. He tightened his jaw. “Go back into town and seduce some poor, unsuspecting human.”
She circled him, one long fingernail tracing across the soft material covering his shoulder. “I hope you do go. No one ever wanted you in the pack. They only put up with you in order to placate father. And Neeta, the she-wolf who sheltered you has only done so at our father’s order.”
Casten growled, clutched his half-sister by the throat, and squeezed. “Shut up!”
She grinned, bearing her fangs as she wrenched herself from his hold. “You’re weak. Weak like your bitch of a mother,” she taunted. “I don’t know why father didn’t kill you too. Instead of marking you for the pack, he should have ripped your throat out like he did your mothers.”
Fury overtook Casten. His body shook. His gums burned like fire as his incisors broke through the tender flesh of his mouth and descended. “Get away from me before I hurt you.”
She sniffed, indignant. “Hurt me? That’s laughable.”
Casten’s fingernails bent back, allowing his claws to sprout forth.
“Run!” he snarled.
She turned from him, in no hurry. He leapt and tackled Celesta to the ground. She instantly shifted into her wolf-born form. The tattered dress she wore fell from her animal body and was taken by the breeze. The expensive garment caught and dangled off a tree limb in a macabre dance— fluttering. Her wolf teeth sank deep into the flesh of man, not animal.
Casten yelled, his voice quivering into the tones of yelping as his muzzle elongated and muscles rippled until the bones cracked, reforming him. His ears tipped and stood to black points. The sleeves on his plaid shirt tore before it shredded. Snarls, growls, and more chomping bites echoed in the night. His trousers tangled into the jumbled fight as his body contorted and tumbled.
The she-wolf flew through the air and landed on all fours a few feet away from him just as he rolled and stopped in a crouch, stomping the ground with his massive paw.
Her lip curled.
His ears went back.
They ran, head-on, set for a collision course for each other. When they clashed, it became a blur of viciousness, flying gray hair, black hair, and blood glistening in the moonlight until he gained the advantage.
With razor sharp teeth to his sisters throat. She relaxed. Lifted her hind leg. Bared her soft gray underbelly to him. He let loose. Celesta scrambled back from her brother. Casten paced, predatorily, his eyes glowing with the night shine of his animal. She bowed her head, muzzle down, an acceptance of his dominance. He growled low in his throat. Hackles up. He hated himself. He despised his pack. He detested her and his father. They were all abhorrent creatures, empty and soulless.
Casten lowered his head, then rammed forward, pummeling into Celesta’s side. The sound of her ribs cracking followed by her yap of pain gave his beast satisfaction. He’d blindsided her while she was in submission, something he shouldn’t have done, but he didn’t expect to see her tumble over the edge of the rock face.
Realizing what he had allowed his hatred to do, Casten’s will overtook that of his animal. Howling in pain, he transformed. Once human, he scrambled to the edge, and saw her, clawing at a small patch of dirt on a thin ledge, her hind legs hanging in open air.
“Change!” he yelled, going to his knees. He bent and extended his mangled arm out for her. Blood slid down his forearm in dark rivulets, dripping from his fingertips. Celesta shifted. Her nude female frame battered. She reached for her brother, grunting, then wrapped her slender fingers around his strong wrist. He tugged until her body was safely on the rocky protrusion. “You can jump to me from there.”
Eye’s narrowing, she stared up at him, and yanked.
Caught unaware, Casten went over the edge, listening to Celesta’s cackling laughter, heading for the boulders below….
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