A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Alpha girl

February 22, 2013
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Alpha
Alpha

Life is hard at the best of times. Imagine being a werewolf and single no less. Doesn’t help if you’re the leading pack alpha’s daughter and every werewolf in the tri-state area wants a piece of you. And not necessarily in a good way.

New York, leave it to the wolves.

Bodil Sommers has never been one for attention, but as the lunar week approaches and the moon rises high in the night sky, she’s going to get a lot of it, from various werewolf males. Two of the males pursuing her are from her own pack. Nick Olsen an alpha and Boden Jennings a beta werewolf who are always fighting one another. They’re supposed to be the better option, than giving herself over to another pack’s alpha male or having to win her right to date, through dominance fighting.

But Bodil finds her paws full when neither male will back down and she can’t figure out what she wants, let alone who she wants, as well as having to stop an impending turf war with another werewolf pack, all before full moon.

Who new dating was so complicated?

Alpha will be published on Smashwords in March!

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Biting 2013

January 4, 2013
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Werewolf Bites is the first publication  off the presses for 2013, happy new year!

A short collection of werewolf erotica for your pleasure.  Be warned adult themes! adult themes! adult themes!

If you’ve ever read my blog, you’ll understand that 🙂

Werewolf bites_cover5

A short story collection of Werewolf erotica from various pack wolves.

Doll and Luke werewolves from the Seattle Alki sort out some relationship issues, through a bit of sexual game role playing.

Lycan Booker Parish wants  his human girlfriend, Torrens Vez over his knee to discipline her at work.

Bodil Sommers finds gift giving, after a shopping spree to her pack mates,  highly pleasurable.

Jules Teehlan is an alpha werewolf from the Manhattan Maen and more than happy to do his bit for his pack when he is invted to a party where sex is played with power.

Addison Harrington finds his hands, mouth and body full when he attends a party of power and privelage on pack business.


Perception

February 19, 2012
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My 2nd Novella Perception is now available for download from Smashwords.

At the age of fourteen I was attacked by a pack of wild wolves, at the age of fifteen I found out there were wolves attacking humans in my  home town of Brooklyn.
This was the beginning of my relationship with Booker Parish. A lycan.
A big no-no in the werewolf world .  One I couldn’t resist.


Reclaiming the crown

November 27, 2010
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“I always thought you were the one who was the trouble maker in this family.” I smile at my sister.

We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, Bodil and I. All because I got stabbed, kidnapped and silvered. Not exactly an average day for a werewolf like me. No, I’m a modern day werewolf. I live in a city, in a neighborhood amongst humans. I can to an extent, control my shape shifting, and werewolf tendencies. I’ve learned how to live with what I am. As most werewolves of today have.

And yet, there’s still things not for today, things of old, that still make me a werewolf. Like those of lineages past. In a basic sense, we’re still all the same. I still have to contend with silver affecting me, and I still have deal with pack politics, and pack hierarchy and how that, affects, rules, ruins, interferes, whatever you want to call it, my life.

Family, who are hierarchy in the pack I come from. Family, can’t live with them, can’t shoot them either. Especially considering my family, is the leading pack family of the Breukelen wolves. The leading pack Alpha comes from my family.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and my sister Bodil. But when something like this whole Gabby incidenthappens to one of us, to me in particular, since you know, it has, she falls into werewolf mode with a natural elegance that makes you see how some people are meant to be warriors. It shows me, again that this is the Alpha in her, taking over, and she’s less my sister than she is the Alpha werewolf that helps hold this pack together, by doing her duty to it as a werewolf.

She grins back at me. Brown eyes twinkling. “Everybody says that. Guess I manage to take the attention away from you by running interference with my own troubles, so often huh?”

We both laugh. We’re the only two girls in a family of five siblings. And now that I think about it, I’d say us girls are more trouble than the males of this family, at any given time.

There’s usually more focus on Bodil though and whatever her troubles and run ins are. Because she’s an Alpha werewolf. Basically, in the werewolf structure, an Alpha’s more involved, more important, more everything, because they’re an Alpha werewolf. They’re like the rockstars of werewolves, if you will.

“Not this time.” I sigh.

“Yeah, this time, you’ve really gone all out to reclaim the crown of problem child in this family, haven’t you?” She says looking across at me.

I see my sister looking at me with concern, my big sister. But I hear the words of an Alpha werewolf who’s on duty. Trying to figure out how to deal with an inter-pack mess without having to go to the worst possible case scenario. And I can hear, it in her voice, that she’s failing to come up with an answer for how to deal with this, that will suit all concerned.

“I’m a problem child? Because I decided to date a werewolf from another pack? Please, there are bigger problems in the world than this. You’re capable of handling bigger problems than this. I’m capable of making bigger problems, than this.”

“Don’t know if you noticed but the world you and I live in, is surrounded by werewolves. That dating part, isn’t really the problem.” She states, leaning forward, her arms on her legs as she sits on the edge of the coffee table, looking back at me.

I’ve known this all along. She knows this. The problem is Pack. Who’s pack has the right here. There are reputations to be maintained. And it doesn’t just boil down to, I got into a girl fight with some bitch and she whipped me. If I were just human, that might be the case. But in werewolf world, the implications are far greater than that. Especially when you’re a pack werewolf.

What you do as an individual, reflects back onto the pack you come from. Even more so on me, because I’m from the leading pack family. Which means, the whole Gabby incident, can’t be ignored and swept under the rug. It can’t be seen to be okay that she stabbed me and got away with it. It can’t be seen, that I’m taking the higher ground here, and letting bygones be bygones.

Because that’s not how werewolves think. That’s human talk. And if I were to just let sleeping dogs lie, over this matter, and word got out to other packs about the lack of action taken against Gabby. My pack, the Breukelen would be seen as an easy target. My family, pack leader, as weak.

Weakness in werewolf world, usually leaves an opening for the power hungry wolves, to come stomping in, and taking over your territory, your pack, your life. It has been known to happen before. As yet, and to the best of my knowledge not to any of the New York packs. The Breukelen don’t want to be the first to open that flood gate either, I don’t want to be my pack’s undoing.

Bodil’s not the only one who’s been doing a lot of thinking about this. It’s just she’s the only one of the two of us, who’s be sanctioned to solve the issue by means necessary of the pack. Even though I’m the wolf at the centre of the problem.

I’m the one who should be able to call the shots, on what comes next. On how to deal with Gabby. It’s not that nobody’s been listening to me. It’s more that, nobody’s asked me.

It’s more that the werewolves involved seemed to have forgotten, that being a beta wolf, doesn’t mean I’m not capable of solving this problem. They seem to think, because I’m not an Alpha werewolf that my mindset isn’t as capable of strategizing like there’s or as being as devious as Gabby’s. Maybe they just don’t want me to be. But this is a problem, that won’t go away. Because neither Gabby or I will back down from it. Not now.

I look back at my sister. Swing my legs down off the sofa and sit, facing her.

“I have a plan.”


Pack

November 24, 2010
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“Well, now, this is cosy, isn’t it?” I mutter looking back at my sister Bodil. In a club and instead of relaxing and enjoying my night out with my packmate, I’m sitting there stiffly feeling like I have to be on my best behavior.

Bodil just returns the blank stare of someone who doesn’t give a shit, and won’t be baited easily, especially by a younger sibling. Even if I am only like three years younger than her. Like she has more patience than I’ll ever gain. She picks up a shot glass and downs it in one fluid motion.

I sigh loudly and look around us, even as Paris remains quiet, by my side, arm around my shoulders.

We’re being chaperoned. Me and Paris.

Yeah, this whole Gabby got a good shot in on me thing, is like a never ending issue of contention for my pack and how they view Paris and me. Our relationship. I hear there’s debate on whether I should be allowed to continue dating him. Well fuck that shit! I just think my super sister is super pissed, with concern about what happened to me and may have been getting in the Breukelen Alpha’s ear about it.

Part of me get’s it. She’s just being a big sister, looking out for me. Like she’d look out for anyone in our family. But no one’s come up with any real plan for how to deal with Gabby. So far it’s just consisted of keeping a look out for Gabby entering either territory of the Breukelen or the Manhattan Maen. All these wolves seem think similar, that if anything, she’s likely to come back after me.

To finish me off, as they haven’t said out loud to me.

I asked Paris why all the Alpha’s think that’s her only course of action with me. His answer was rather grim.

He said “Because, she’s an Alpha and well, if we view someone as an enemy and we get into something like this with them, we want to be the one to finish the fight off. It’s about pride as much as it is conquering and winning. And in Gabby’s case, she knows she has a big advantage over you, she’s not likely to ignore that if it means she can get what she wants, her revenge.”

Of course, I hadn’t really expected a more uplifting and positive response to the question. Especially since it concerns Gabby.

And I get it, for her, it’s either going to be about getting closure on the matter of me or it’s going to be about her triumphing completing, in whatever manner suits her best. Which could include my death at her paws. It’s hard to say, but the werewolf within most of us, pushes for it’s natural wants to be sated all the time and whilst I’m no Alpha werewolf, I gather, from what I know of them, that they’re werewolf selves, have deeper, darker, secrets and desires that us regular beta wolves do not need to think about contending with. So maybe the hunt and kill thing, is greater in them, hence why everyone thinks, Gabby will come back at me again. Because part of her, the true part of her, won’t let this thing between us slide. She won’t ever be happy until I’m dead.

Every Alpha wolf I’ve asked, Nick, Bodil, Paris, Wiatt, Addison, Booker, Aksel, about what I should expect from Gabby or what they think she’s going to do, has said the same thing basically.

It’s her against me, that much is certain.

Alpha werewolf, against a Beta werewolf, who’s got a pack as an army behind her.

That’s about a fair a fight as it gets.

I look back over at Bodil, who’s watching the movement in the club. Her eyes scanning it, looking for threats, irregular movements to the flow of atmosphere in there.

Yeah, it’d be about as fair a fight as I could make it, if they’d let me fight her.
But they won’t.

I know that. I can see it on Bodil’s face, I see it in Paris’s expression. I see it when the Breukelen hierarchy and the Manhattan Maen try to negotiate the best way to deal with Gabby and to handle me.

It’s a pack situation, now.

But who’s?


The Girl

November 22, 2010
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When I come to, I’m alone.

Paris’s scent lingers lightly against the covers of my bed. I inhale it.

The sound of voices rising, catches my attention. Scratching my head, I get up and look for something to tie my hair back with.

Moving my neck from side to side, out of habit more than anything else. I kind of like to test the theory that I’m always good after a shape shift. Doing little body checks on myself. I stretch my arms above my head and look around my room. Dropping my arms back down heavily.

The door’s closed and the voices although muted can still be heard clearly. It’s definetly people arguing. I look for clothes and slip into a pair of jeans and over-sized t-shirt that hangs off my shoulder slightly.

Tying my hair back into a quick pony tail before glancing at the clock on the dresser drawer. I didn’t hold form for all that long. Well, as long as I would normally judging by the time on the clock. Not that means anything. Or it might. Guess it’s hard to say based on one shape shift.

Could be my wolf not used to doing shape shifts by herself. She could’ve got used to being around Paris when he’s in wolf form, or even human form. Sometimes, our werewolves get conditioned like that. They fall into routine and they adjust to routine. Then you change it up and elements of it, change the shift, the body’s physiological response to environment, circumstance.

I head out of my room and into the house. The voices are clear and louder. It’s my sister Bodil and Paris. That can’t be good.

What the hell happened to Booker making sure Paris left before Bodil found out he’d been here? I’d ask the Lycan myself, but I have no idea where he is. Hmmm.

I keep heading towards the angry voices. Down the hallway, towards the sitting room, I pad down barefoot. I can see the thick wooden double doors are closed. But that’s where their coming from. I’m hungry, usually am after a shape shift, but I want to know what the hell is going on, so I ignore the hunger pains.

“You put her in danger!” Bodil yells at him. “She’s supposed to be going to Manhattan to party and have a good time, not to get stabbed with silver in your territory. She’s not going back there.”

I stand before the closed doors, listening.

“She’s not safe with you. You’ve proven that. You’re dangerous.” Bodil’s voice, still angry but not shouting.

“Bodil, it’s never ever going to happen again.”
Paris starts off politely as could be.

“The point is, Paris, it’s already happened and it shouldn’t have. You were supposed to be looking after her, as her boyfriend, as her guide through your fucking territory, as a fucking pack leader. You failed her. You failed the Breukelen by allowing this to happen to her! Why the hell would the Breukelen let you date one of our own, when you failed her so badly?”

My eyes widen at this news. I don’t exactly need permission to date anyone. It’s a wee bit complicated when it’s a different pack werewolf, but I still don’t have to get permission.

I am my own person. I always have been, much like my very angry and concerned for me, sister. We were always raised to be ourselves in our family. And as a result, there are a fair few strong personalities in our family. Guess it shouldn’t be so surprising coming from a Leading Pack family.

But my father, the pack Alpha, my sister, family, whatever, have never had to weigh in on my dating habits. No one, but me, has ever had a say in what I do.

I may be a pack werewolf, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make my own decisions and live by them. Doesn’t mean I can’t choose for myself, who I date. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let my sister or anyone else for that matter, dictate to me, how to run my life and who I’m allowed to see.

My hands are on the doors when Paris starts back at her.

“She’s no safer here. You think you’re guys are going to shadow her around for forever? What about the threats she faces over here in Brooklyn?”

“What threats?” Bodil asks him.

“Come on, you know how much Conall Wakely despises us being together. How much of a hard time he creates for her, every time she’s over here, when she tries to go to pack parties. How’s that any different to her being in my territory with me, and having to face a werewolf that doesn’t like her?”

“Well, let me think about this for a minute. Could it be, that she hasn’t gotten stabbed or poisoned with silver when she’s been in Breukelen territory, like ever. Around Breukelen wolves? But since she started dating you, she’s has? Yeah, that might be it.” Bodil fires at him full of sarcasm.

“Bodil, you can’t protect her forever. The world has people, wolves in it. Things happen everywhere. No matter where you are. You can’t hide her from life, and you can’t follow her around shadowing her.”

I guess it can’t be helped, if your the little sister. This is how you get thought of, even when you’re an adult. That I need protecting. Hello, I have life skills!

“Oh please, don’t you dare think you can lecture me on protecting my sister! You knew this Gabby wolf hated her. And yet you regularly saw their interactions get worse and worse and you did nothing! You let her get into fights!”

“I let her handle her own fights. If I didn’t think she could handle Gabby, I would’ve stepped in. She can handle Gabby.”

“Oh please, the girl is no fighter. She’s not like you and me Paris. She’s no Alpha.”

It’s true, in terms of werewolf fighting, my skills are fairly average. But if I was fighting a human, well, I’d look like some sort of prized champion by comparison, really. I find myself leaning closer to the closed door and turning my ear towards it, even though, there’s no need. I can hear perfectly what they’re saying about me. What they’re not saying about me. I lean forward on the doors and push them open so both Bodil and Paris turn to look at me as I walk in, pushing the doors aside.

“I’m a werewolf through and through, and that’s a danger in itself, whether your a human or wolf. And that’s all I need to be. So back the fuck down, both of you.”

Bodil’s eyebrows shoot up as her eyes widen. Paris looks back at me and smiles broadly.


Branded

November 16, 2010
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I’m so absorbed in looking at this scar in the mirror, that I don’t notice my sister walk into my room, and look at me.

“What the hell is that?” She says loudly suddenly storming over to me as I pull down my top. I glance over at her angry face and take a few steps back.

“It’s nothing.” I mutter quickly. Even though already in my mind, I know that’s a lie. I’ve already signified the scar more than I should have. I’m scarred. Marked. Branded.

Bodil reaches for my top even as I try to fend of her hands and yanks the edge of the top up quickly. Her brown eyes falling on the scar instantly.

“You’ve been scarred.”

I sigh and let her examine it, since she’s now already seen it. Maybe she won’t make a big deal out of this. “How long have you had this?” She asks softly glancing up at me. I bite my lip. I really don’t want to have to tell her about this. It just won’t end well, for anyone. Bodil has a fiery temper and a fierce fighting nature. She’s highly protective of family and pack.

I choose not to answer her.

“Does it still hurt?” She asked checking it out up close.
“No.”
“Did you get stitched up, like by a doctor?” She asked leaning in closer and then straightening back up to stand up and face me. Bodil’s never been to a doctor in her life. I’m fairly certain.
“Uh, initially, yes.”
“Why would you go to a doctor for this..unless…” Her eyes narrow on me. I think it’s best to remain utterly silent under her scrutinizing gaze. Bodil’s smart, she can connect the dots to get to the conclusion. “There’s only one way we get scarred. Silver.” She states letting the top drop. “What happened?” She asks looking at me in a very serious manner.

My hopes for her not making this into a big deal are dashed immediately. I’ve seen my sister like this before. She’s ready to fight someone for this. Tear their head off kind of fight.

“Tell me or you will never leave the fortress of this house, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.” Bodil crosses her arms over her chest. I’d hold out on telling her if I didn’t think her threat was do-able. But Bodil usually comes good on her threats. Worse yet, she has the werewolf power and resources to back them up.

“I got stabbed.”

Her mouth drops open in surprise at my frank admission.

“By who?”

I sigh again. I can see the storm that is going to come from this, coming on.

“An Alpha wolf from the Manhattan Maen has a grudge against me and she made me ingest silver so I couldn’t shape shift.”

Her mouth drops open again, at the incredible story. “That’s it, you’re not leaving this house, till I say so.”
“What!” I yell at her.
Paris has got a lot to answer for.” She rants grabbing my mobile phone and laptop quickly off the dresser top and walking out of my room. “Don’t even try and sneak out.” She utters “Or I’ll make every Breukelen wolf track you down.” She closes the door behind her.

I sigh heavily. There is no point fighting with her. She’s on my side, she means well. Also she’s an Alpha. Stubborn beyond belief and she outranks me, not just by being older than me, but by her status in the pack and therefore, her influence with pack law. And what this situation calls for in terms of being dealt with.

I walk over to my bed and flop down on it.

Here’s the rub; I was attacked by a Alpha werewolf (read superior skilled warrior), kidnapped (held against my will), stabbed by said werewolf from another pack, in my boyfriend (Paris) the leading Pack Alpha’s territory. When in theory, me being a regular occurrence over there, should have meant, I was always protected from anything like this happening to me. I guess you could say I’m like a guest of the Maen, with a kind of immunity agreement, from my pack to his pack and vice versa unless I declare myself to be of his pack only. Which is a whole other deal. But even then I think my sister would still go ape-shit over something like this. So would anyone from my family.

By me, getting stabbed over there, and me being from the leading pack family here in Brooklyn, it’s like a line ball call on whether this means werewolf war or not. It all depends on how it gets handled.

Here’s the deeper rub; My sister Bodil will take on any werewolf if she needs to. She’s the best werewolf dominance fighter in Brooklyn and probably all of New York, even against the males here. If she has to fight Paris because of this, she will. Only if there’s a fight over something like this it won’t be to humiliate or maim the opponent. It’ll be to kill them. Out of Bodil and Paris, I have no idea who is the better fighter. I’d be hard pressed to separate them and I don’t want either of them dead.

But you can not brand a werewolf, and expect them to be owned. We are creatures of a long past, proud race, and a free one. If one werewolf is branded and then seen to be branded and owned, well in past years, they were ousted out of the pack. Because they couldn’t be seen to be a pack wolf. It’s like a sign of weakness, letting something lesser, weaker into your pack structure. It’s like a calling card, for other werewolf packs, to try and take that pack, over.

And that’s never good.


Lucky

August 9, 2010
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“You’re lucky.” My sister tells me, sighing as she lays down, an ice pack across her forehead.

“How so?” I ask curiously, already knowing what she’s going to say, but wanting to hear it all the same.

“You’re not an Alpha. You don’t have to put up with the same bullshit I do.” Bodil replies back at me, pressing the icepack to her forehead.  She’s already shape shifted her injuries and aches and pains from fighting away.  But she didn’t hold wolf form for long. “And you don’t get the side effects of a quick shape shift.  Trust me, that makes you very lucky.” Bodil moans.

Because life moves on and requires her to be in her human form to get other pack business done, in an all too timely manner.  Fast shape shifting, is an Alpha specialty.  They can bring on they’re own shape shift and that of other wolves, too, rather fast if needed. And they can essentially, shut it down just as fast.  But there are side affects from fast shape shifting, and not holding werewolf form long enough. They vary in degrees of severity, but it’s one of the drawbacks.  Migraines, are a special side affect my sister often experiences, from one of these quick shape shifts.

*****************************************************************************************************

“You’re lucky.” My brother Markus says to me with a half smile. As I shovel the last piece of bacon off the plate and into my mouth.  “That phone call distracted me, otherwise I’d have grabbed the bacon.”

“You snooze, you lose.” I reply back at him. He arches an eyebrow up at me in response. “Are you like the only werewolf I know who doesn’t know how to do two things at once?” His eyes go wide at me now and he laughs. 

“Are you like the only werewolf I know, who doesn’t put all they’re attention and focus on the task at hand when required, instead of spreading themselves thin doing too much of everything?” Markus fires back at me. 

My mouth clamps shut.  Markus is a beta wolf like me. He’s a good solider wolf. He does what’s required of him, for the pack, for others, for himself. I always thought I was the golden child in our family, but now his statement makes me think I’ve been seeing myself in too eager a bright light.  He makes me sound like the loose cannon in our family.  We’re all quite different in personality and temperament and werewolf abilities and duties. But surely not?

***********************************************************************************************

“You’re lucky.” Sonny the Seattle Alki sighs down the phone line at me. “You’ve got Paris, you’ve got a great packmate in him.”

“Thanks, I think.  I am aware of how great a guy he is.”

“Not just the guy, the wolf too.” Sonny goes on.  “He’s the whole package, a werewolf could ever want in a packmate.”  I think about arguing the point, it depends what you want in a packmate back at Sonny, but decide not to.  He is everything I want in a packmate.  He’s beautiful, strong, dependable, fiercely loyal. He makes me feel desired, loved and wanted. He helps me shape shift, he lets me pick my battles and figures out ways to let me fight them, without insulting my intelligence by giving him all the control over them.

*****************************************************************************************************

“You’re lucky.” Gabby, the female Alpha from the Manhattan Maen pack mutters at me, her  eyes glancing across at me, before darting away again. “That I don’t smash your face in.” She says fast enough for me to hear as she walks past me, without breaking stride.  I have no idea why she’s being so hostile towards me now. We’ve been good lately, at least for the last four days.  Maybe’s because the last time we had a run in, I kind of broke her nose and I didn’t get told off for it.  I’ve deliberately avoided being around her.  Maybe it’s a territorial thing.  Me being from another pack, and being involved with the Alpha from her pack, really seems to irk her.  Then again, it could be any number of reasons with Gabby as to why she dislikes me so.  She wouldn’t be the first female werewolf I’ve come across who didn’t like me.  Female wolves can be the ultimate bitches, trust me.

*****************************************************************************************************

“You’re lucky.” Bohm a beta wolf from the Manhattan Maen says to me with a warm smile. “That I was there for you.” I shake his hand and nod my head. It’s my first meeting with the werewolf male, I beat the crap out of, after my last run in with Gabby. Trust me when I say, circumstances called for it.  Being a werewolf ain’t for the faint hearted, you will be tested, over and over again.  I still can’t bring myself to feel good about beating him up, even though he and Paris assure me, all is well and good.

“Won’t happen again.” I reply. Bohm shrugs his shoulders and keeps smiling.

“No problems if it does, bit of a heads up would be good, but no probs.” He says back at me.  Just like that, a good werewolf falls into line, does what he’s told, sucks it up and comes back for more.  Maybe it’s just a male werewolf thing, I tend to think they embrace the violence that surrounds our lives, more than females. Well, me at least. 

*****************************************************************************************************

“You’re lucky, I wasn’t settled yet.” Addison mock growls at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises up off his seat and heads back past the pool, towards the bar, to refill the sangria jug for me.  I try not to look too pleased with myself, behind my wrap sunglasses.  After all, a beta werewolf ordering an Alpha werewolf around, unheard of!  Well, not unheard of, just unreal.  There is a structure in a wolf pack, and that includes hierarchy and all werewolves adhere to it. It’s how the pack works.  Beta wolves are not exactly considered lesser wolves than Alphas, since we tend to make up the majority of most packs.  But it’s like having the rich and the middle class levels of society in a pack, kind of, if you get my meaning.  Alpha’s are above us, and do not have to do, as we Beta wolves do.  Generally speaking, because being an Alpha werewolf entails more than the average werewolf.  So they’re under a whole other set of expectations, rules and circumstances as well as the normal things that apply to Beta wolves. But we Beta wolves, have to do as our Alpha would tell us to do.  It’s how it works.  Besides, I wasn’t ordering Addison around, I was whining and pleading cause I didn’t want to get out of the pool and Addison was closer to the bar than me.

************************************************************************************************

“I’m lucky.” I look up at Paris. “That you are never not up for this.” I’m being cheeky I know, but it’s true. The werewolf before me, only ever helps me and loves me and wants me and appreciates me, in all forms that I come in. Woman, human, werewolf, beta wolf, stupid girl, party girl, bad fighter, Breukelen pack wolf.  I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling myself upwards with him. He kisses me hard and his face hovers close to mine. So All I can see is him.

*******************************************************************************************************

“I’m lucky.” Paris sighs, blue eyes looking down at me. “That you’re all mine.”


Where I want to be

May 26, 2010
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It’s still too early for me to sleep and I can’t really rest, I keep looking at the flowers and playing with the card in my fingers and sighing, loudly, repeatedly. I am such a jerk.

I wander through the darkness of the house, knowing it’s familiarity well. I should probably move out, get my own place. But I like our home.

I head straight for the kitchen where Bodil is sitting on the edge of the large wooden, kitchen table, sipping a coffee. Pizza snacks and coffee at the family home, when she’s got her own place? Maybe she’s having man problems too and doing as we Breukelen werewolf women seem to do, run away for some thinking space. Although I wouldn’t have thought was her style.

“Hey,” I greet her with pulling a mug out of the cupboard above my head and heading straight to the coffee pot. I don’t drink coffee all that often, it kind of makes me jittery if I have like more than two cups. Sometimes one cup is enough. But right now, feeling jittery is kind of already happening, so what harm could coffee do to this werewolf?

“Did you drive here?” I ask ignoring her lack of response to me. I think she’s mad at me after all. For the whole Conall fiasco on the front stoop.

“On my bike.”

“Oh.” I blow across the top of the coffee mug. Bodil shifts and looks at me suspiciously.

“You need a lift somewhere?”

“Is tribecca too far?” I ask sheepishly. My sister breaks into a big smile at me and cups her coffee mug.

“Not if it means you’re not with Conall Wakely. I could do with a ride anyway. I suck at being cooped up.” Bodil replies sipping her coffee and looking over the mug at me. “Makes me all, angsty.”

The restlessness. I get that. Probably all werewolves do.

Being alone and in one place, it’s just like putting us in a cage. We just go stir crazy internally. It’s like the natural order of ourselves has been put out of whack and the wolf inside knows it. After all, we’ve conditioned that wolf over years of growing up to accommodate us and itself with life in a city. That takes training. Lots and lots of training and getting used to.

I think that means I’m allowed to ask her why she’s hanging out here, instead of at her own place or with the guys. But then she looks away, has a bit of a distant look on her face, which is half covered in silhouette.

“Let me know when you want to go.”

I put the coffee cup down. I haven’t even sipped it.
“Is now too soon?”

She laughs and slides off the table towards me.
“Lets go.”

The drive to Manhattan is refreshing. The wind whips at my face, stinging it with it’s cold bite and I grin. It’s like being reminded of freedom, of escaping troubles. Of running towards what I want most in this world. It’s like being the wolf and sprinting, feeling the stretch of your legs hit ground and fly past everything in your path. Of being invincible.

I actually change my mind when we slow down into Manhattan traffic and decide I’ll try one of the clubs we would normally frequent, Paris and I first, before I go to his home.
So I get Bodil to drop me off at Crescent, in the meat packing district. She double checks with me that I’m sure I want to be there, and that I’ll be okay.

According to werewolf law, well, more like common pack courtesy she’s really not allowed in Manhattan on a lunar night. So she can’t hang around and wait, if she gets spotted it could cause all manner of upset. She has to head back to Brooklyn straight away.

I assure her I’m where I want to be and head into the club.


Shadows and Darkness: Werewolves & love

May 25, 2010
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The walk home ended with the ex boyfriend and I on the front stoop of my family home. Again. Talk about De ja Vu. The moon was higher in the night sky but our front stoop was encased in shadows and darkness. A cool camouflage refuge. But refuge from what?
What was it exactly I was feeling?

“Remember us making out here, all hot heavy?”

I was somewhat great full for the darkness around us. I didn’t want Conall to see the flush creeping up into my face. Well, he could probably figure it out, sense my feelings, possibly feel the heat of my blush even three meters away from me. Werewolf sensory perception and all.

I remembered. How could I forget? When Conall and I were together it was always intense, hot and heavy. Always. Who can forget that sensation when you’ve had it for as long as we had?

“Yeah.”

If we were still together, we’d be making out right now. Doing all kinds of naked fun things in the dark. He was standing opposite me just staring at me. My legs felt like betraying me, and not letting me move. I felt…a little lost. My nerves were racing and I’m not sure why. Conall stepped towards me then. He probably was listening to the maddening beat of my heart going crazy.

I put up a hand, taking a step back from him. Okay the nerves, the picked up pulse of my heart beat was anxiousness. I got that now. Conall made me nervous, not nervous excited. Just nervous anxious.

He smirked at me.

“You’ve already pushed your luck in walking me home.”

“Have I?” He asked smiling brightly.

Great, I’ve just stoked his ego. What werewolf doesn’t like a challenge? Wrong wolf to try that on. Not that I’m trying! Damn it!

“I’m calling it a night.” I said shifting towards the front door. Conall moved so swiftly it was like the lightest touch of disturbance in the air and then he was between me and the door, and I was caught out. Pressed against him, his hands on me, holding me there, to him. Feeling the heat and sticky sweat seep from his body to mine.

I had no idea he could move that fast. He’s never been that fast before. Probably I’m just off my game. Not focusing on things, confused, upset mind and all. Of course, I guess it’s mostly my own doing, the upset. Werewolves can sense moods, sense spikes in pulse and hear heartbeats, and see through darkness like we’ve got night vision goggles on. Of course, you kind of have to concentrate on that stuff to really make it work for you.

“What do you think you’re..”

My words were cut off as the front door swung open and Conall staggered backwards, right into my older sister, Bodil.
Letting me go instantly as we both regained our balance.

“Oh hey,” Bodil replied casually standing directly in the doorway, eating a cold piece of pizza, looking at us. “thought I heard scampering and look, there you are Conall Wakely.”

My eyes widened and I glanced from Bodil to Conall. Her tone of voice told him she didn’t approve, if he didn’t get her words. She never really had. I guess being older than me, she’d been wiser. Seen what a real cad he was. Took me longer to figure it out when we were together.

“Bodil.” Conall replied straightening himself out and stepping back a few steps from the doorway.

He wouldn’t get into a fight with my sister. One it would look so bad in the whole trying to impress me stakes. And Two, she’d kick his ass to dust. She was after all, the reigning dominance fighter in all of New York.

“Good to see you again.” He said with a nod of his head and taking a few more steps backwards, away from her.

It isn’t like my sister is scary looking. She’s not. She’s the complete opposite of scary looking. Gorgeous, tall, dark hair, dark eyes and an athletes body’ with curves. But she has a well earned reputation for being an amazing fighter and Conall’s seen her in action. That’s something to be scared of.

“Go.” She said widening the door for me to go into the house. I went straight in and didn’t look back. I only sighed relief when I heard the front door latch close. Bodil’s eyes drilled into my back, even in the darkness of the foyer I could feel her stare. I turned around to face her, wasn’t the first time my sister had come through for me, and it’s unlikely to be the last.

“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. Her expression was a mixed one of puzzlement and anger back at me.

“There was a delivery for you, I put it in your room.” She said pushing off the front door and walking back in the kitchen direction. I sighed again, somewhat relieved she wasn’t going to get into whatever that was on the front stoop with me and Conall.

“Thanks, so uh, what are you doing here?” I asked casually trying to make good the small bit of tension I was sensing. I didn’t want her mad at me.
Like ever.

“Raiding the fridge.” Bodil replied walking out into the kitchen.

I shrugged my shoulders and headed off to my bedroom, my hand reached around the wall and flicked the light switch on. On the nightstand next to my bed was a beautiful, large bunch of flowers.

Now I get Bodil’s pissed at me face. I could see the square of the card in the bouquet of mixed flowers. I wonder if she read it. I picked it up and pulled it out of it’s quaint little square envelope.

“Manhattan is not the same without you here. I’m not the same.
I miss you. I know you need space. But please call me.

Paris.”

I sighed and flopped down on my bed.

Okay now I feel like a total heel. My head hurts, and my body aches and it has nothing to do with shape shifting and everything to do with werewolves and love.


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