A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Claw Marks

January 22, 2016
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Claw Marks now on Smashwords! Cheers Bg XO.

<claw marks cover

Claw Marks

Jules Teehlan’s job is specific but not necessarily simple. Keep the pack mate of the Manhattan Maen werewolf leader safe. That’s it. But becoming overly familiar with Bg Sommers, the pack mate in question, means Jules is going to get more than the riot act. It mean’s a scarring that goes beyond the physical and borders on breaking an assumed trust. For him and another werewolf.

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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.


Touch

October 24, 2010
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On the night of the full moon, all the werewolf knows is that release will come. Freedom will elope the form of it’s cage. One soul into another and then there is just the wolf.

The moon’s presence will strum along my skin, prickling it, testing it, taunting inside me, with a fiery blood that wants to surge to delight.

It’s the touch of another, wolf, my packmate Paris that abates this for me and fuels the urgency to shape shift.

There will come a crucial point in the night, when I can not hold back any longer. When I know, my body will break, if I do not succumb to the shape shift.

So we do what we must. We tease and coax one another. Because what better way is there to come into our own? It’s fun, it’s enjoyable, it’s eventual. It makes the process of the shape shift smoother.

The night after full moon, and sometimes, it still feels the same to me. I still feel the urge, the need, but my body doesn’t command me without choice. But it doesn’t mean I won’t play under the moonlight, in the embrace of it’s pressence.

The best part of lunar week, is the indulgence. The sense of escape. Burning hot with everything, that you control and slowly rid yourself of. Shackled heavily with heightened sensations and emotions.

The lust in the air is so thick it could be considered stifling, if I didn’t like the sensation of being wrapped in it. The werewolf population will ride out a lunar week, as long as they can. It’s our fun time.

The tip of a tongue trails down the back of my neck slowly.

Jules finishes speaking beside me and Paris mummers “Mmhm” against my skin then pulls away to answer Jules. I’m sitting in front of Paris, closest to Jules, as the boys lean back behind my shoulder line to talk.

Werewolves are used to close confines, to being around one another when they’re dripping in moon heat, lunar lust. But it’s the small touches, innocent enough, that set me off.

It’s familiar that pack wolves do this, rub and touch against one another. Regardless of who they are.

Jules doesn’t mean it, but my brain is elsewhere having very naughty thoughts, as the two men behind me, talk, their heads close together.

Jules’s finger tips, rest right at the side of my thigh. Just touching, barely touching. Resting on the seat we all sit on. His shoulder, brushes against me as he holds his conversation behind my back.

I have no idea what they’re talking about, I haven’t been paying attention to that. My mind is firing on touch, scent and building want. Still. I need my fill, again.

I need to get a grip.

I pick up my champagne. The cool glass is heaven to touch and gives me enough focus again, to drag my mind out from the after glow of two and half days of having the Manhattan Maen Alpha all to myself.

It doesn’t matter that we’re back in the thick of pack again, because when the evening closes down on us all, I will have him again. And that’s what keeping me patient right now. As Paris’s hand slips under one side of my dress and around my leg. I find myself moving my leg slightly, more open for him.

Encouraging him to do what I think he’s going to do, right there under Jules nose, out of sight, under the table. Because he can sense my relentless want to keep this fire between us going.

You see it’s the touches. Small touches, that burn, drive and sate us. It’s the small touches, his touches on me, my touch against him, that contain, control and release, us, and our werewolves.


All Kinds of Trouble (Got that) Pt 2.

September 24, 2010
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Blood, the air is tainted with the crisp scent of it and I lift my nose and inhale. Which of course, for a werewolf on a lunar night, is the wrong thing to do. It’s like tempting an addict or something. It makes my wolf senses want to really kick in to effect. Want me to shape shift to my tribal form so I could tear apart the prey before me that is down and bleeding.

Aaron, once a sweet boy, now a regular bitter asshole who thinks he can talk shit to me because we’d never eventuated when there’d been a chance of dating. Not my fault. But he seems to harbor somewhat of grudge to me.

He’s slightly dazed by the punch I’ve thrown so quickly. His head snapped back like whiplash with the impact from my stellar right hook.

I jump down on top of him, landing above him, on my hands and toes, my shoes pointed sharply into the floor, balancing me precariously, so I don’t actually touch him. But lay, above him, effectively trapping him.

“Do you have any idea, how turned on I am right now?” I mutter in a low, husky voice. Watching Aaron’s eyes widen as they dart across my own face. “Why I’m so turned on?”

His eyes kept staring back at me amazed. I dip my face towards his and inhale the scent of his blood filling my nostrils again. Stronger this time. My stomach gurgles, like it’s hungry. My pulse races, I feel the temples in my head throb, like I’m dizzy with exertion from moving to fast. I dig my fingers into the floor, arching them into a claw like position. Gripping at nothing and feeling them cramp up with the strain I’m putting on them.

“Uh, everyone’s looking at us.” Aaron says in a low voice, sounding once again like the nervous guy of old, I knew.

I glance to the side of us. Of course the crowd are staring at us. Half of them, the werewolf half can smell the blood as good as if they are where I am. The other half, the nons, are looking at us because I look like a woman, primed to fuck the brains out of the gun underneath me.

“No, they’re looking at you Aaron.” I reply, still holding my position above him. Resisting the urge to lick the blood smeared on his face. “They’re looking at you because you’re bleeding and they’re hungry.”
His eyes slide to the right of us again, looking at the crowd there, before looking back at me.

“You’re making them, hungry and horny. Bleeding so invitingly in the open for them.”

“You hit me!” He whines in a hushed whisper. I can hear the approaching footsteps of three people and know one of them isParis, coming towards me.

“You had it coming.”

A pair of shoes stop beside me and I recognize Paris’s shoes immediately. He squats down beside us. Looking from Aaron to me.

“What do we have here?”

“A bleeding non.” I reply simply as my arms start to twitch a little with the strain of holding myself off him so cautiously.

Paris looks at me. “And what do you want to do to him?” He asks me playfully. Werewolves, we’re just like any other animal, that wants to play with their food.

My mouth drops open and I look at Paris as my arms shake harder. “I want to lick that blood off him, maybe tear him apart a little, so my teeth can sink into soft flesh. Feel the blood flow up to my gums.”

Werewolf Speak, it’s not about conceding desire, it’s allowing yourself to be honest about it. Paris appears to think about this for a moment and looks back at Aaron, still laying on his back, trapped underneath me. His eyes wide, his expression one of puzzlement.

“You can lick the blood of him, but that’s it.”

I tilt my head back to look at Aaron like he’s an appetizer. Goody.

“Do you understand me?” Paris asks me, somewhat patiently.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Paris stands up.

“What?” Aaron looks back at me, not understanding at thing that is going on. Except that maybe, he might be in a bad situation, I can litterally feel the sense of fear in him.

I lower my body onto his. My breasts crushing into his chest, my hips against his, separated by a couple of layers of clothing. Sex and Blood, a werewolf favorite thing in life. Specially on a lunar night. It’s like tenfold. Better and better than anything you’d think of.

“What’s a matter Aaron, don’t you want me?” I ask as his hands automatically reached for my ass, gripping my skirt. I can feel him getting harder underneath me. His eyes dart about me quickly. A Feeling like white noise is filling my head, I can feel the sweat dripping down the back of my shoulder blades.

My wolf wants her fill.

I blink, relax my hands and pushed off to one side suddenly. Aaron lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“It’s not your kind of place.” I say squatting before standing and offering him a hand up. He hesitates, briefly, looking around at the crowd that has gathered around us. “You need to leave.” I pull him upright to his feet and drop his hand as Paris slides his arm around my waist.

“Can I at least ask,”

“No.” I cut him off. “You don’t want trouble Aaron, that includes this place, me and him.” I say pointing to Paris. “Stay away.”

“Got that.” Aaron mutters in a low voice, gingerly touching the blood underneath his nose again. Momentairly reminding me of the old Aaron.

“Jules, make sure he gets cleaned up and out of here safely.” Paris instructes the other Alpha male wolf. “Put him a cab.” Jules nods his head silently and steps forward towards Aaron. Who looks back over at me.

“You’re a weird one.” He says softly, glancing from me to Paris and back at me, shaking his head.

“Better than being a bitch whore.” I reply, as he starts to move towards Jules.

“About that, I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry. I had no right.”

I nod my head at him.

“Got that.”


Midnight Blue

September 21, 2010
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You might think, that after being born a werewolf, growing up a werewolf and living in this world, that I’d be used to all things werewolf. Especially coming from the werewolf culture it’s self. But let me tell you, I’m a avid learner. Seems like there’s still plenty of surprises in this life, in the wolf culture, for me to continuously learn about. Like ex boyfriends. Well, not really Ex, because we never really did get around to hooking up and going out on a proper date together.

But maybe, would be Ex boyfriend is a better way to sum up Aaron.

I really shouldn’t be surprised, given my appalling track record with dating the male species. Especially when it comes to Nons. Yes, I’ve dated a few. And let me tell you, the reason it’s only a few, less than a handful is because of that appalling track record when it comes to love and dating. Takes forever to figure stuff out when you’re dating. You just make the same mistakes, the same choices, over and over again. Then you add the element of werewolf into the mix, and shit, it’s just a brain bust trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing, with a non.

So Aaron, I met Aaron, a human, through mutual friends– yes human friends, and I kind of developed, a crush on him. He seemed to reciprocate, but nothing ever happened. The boy never asked me out and ditto me to him.

So it’s all null and void right?

Incase you haven’t noticed, it’s lunar week this week. So I’m off doing my thing, being immersed in my werewolf nature, in werewolf world. Which means, some nights of the weeks, I’m in a sweatbox club, drinking in, drowning and soaking in the atmosphere of werewolf pheromones getting heightened for and by, love, sex, and shape shifting. I walked into Midnight Blue the other night, said I’d meet Paris there. The place was packed. I think almost every werewolf in Manhattan must’ve had the same thought about where to go that night. Because the crowd seemed huge.

I was looking around the club and walking towards Paris’s side of the main room, when a guy steps out suddenly and cuts me off. I was about say what the hell, when I look up and see, Aaron.

Aaron, the non in a designated werewolf club on a lunar night.

The odds of this supposedly happening, should be like zero to none. See, the whole point to the club scene for werewolves, is a form of control. So we don’t go all baser and rampage through the streets attacking people. And that means, on lunar weeks, the amount of humans allowed into a wolf club, are like a handful, if that. There’s all these waivers tey have to sign and costs involved and they have to be vouched for…hassle.

I’d already spotted Paris and the boys and they had already notice my entrance too.

“Hey,” He says smiling at me brightly. “You look great.”

Of course I look great, I just spent two and a half hours getting ready for my boyfriend to lust over me.

Smooth skin, shiny black hair, red lipstick, black eyeliner, killer red heels with ribbon wound around my feet, short black skirt, and black sleeveless top that dips, greatly at the back, to expose most of my back. Fun, flirty and fully ready for action. It only took me like an hour of throwing out half my clothes in my wardrobe and whining “I have nothing to wear” to myself repeatedly, to come up with the look.
Only.

So I fumble for a reply and smile brightly back at him.
“Uh hi.”

“I didn’t you knew about this place? I haven’t seen you here before.”

I shake my head and blink. The whole, he’s bordering on entering into my world on a lunar week has kind of thrown me. This boy knows absolutely nothing about me. And he sure as hell doesn’t know about werewolves in New York. Let alone that he’s smiling back at one, who’s starting to sweat.

“Um, not frequently.” I mutter back.

“Wow,” He laughs lightly. “I haven’t seen you in ages, you don’t really hang with the gang anymore.”

I just keep looking slightly, whatever I’m looking like at him.

“Was it me?” He laughs jokingly.

I avoid replying but yes, he was one of the catalysts for me breaking distance from my group of human friends, last year.

“Well, have a great night, I’m meeting someone here,” I start and go to walk around him. Aaron jumps across in one long stride in front of me.

What is it with this guy? Does he have ADD? Or is he looking for a fight?
Paris, Addison and Jules are moving now, towards us. They probably think I’m being hassled. Which is not a good thing for Aaron. Disrespecting an Alpha Werewolf’s pack mate is asking to be put through hell, for the fun of it.

“Who are you meeting? That Colin guy that I saw you with last time. Man, you could do so much better than him. He was an Asshole.”

I can’t help it, my eyes widen. I can not believe, I’m about to do what I do next. Seems unthinkable, me defending Conall. But once a werewolf…always a werewolf. We defend, play and stick together.

I step up close to Aaron. Making my voice as acidic as I can.

“You don’t get to call Conall, an Asshole when you don’t even know him. Or me.”

Aaron takes a step back.

“I remember him being mighty territorial about you, I’m surprised he hasn’t marked this place his territory if you’re in it.”

The boys are getting closer. A petite blonde girl is walking over towards Aaron also.

“Look who’s being an asshole now.” I fire back at him. The blonde walks up to his side and says his name. He glances at her.

“Wow, I am so glad we never hooked up.” He says back at me, flippantly, slipping a hand into the blonde girls hand.

“Who are you?” She asks me blankly.

“This is that girl I was telling you about.”

I frown, what the hell is that statement supposed to mean?

Paris and the boys are right behind Aaron when he says it, Jules and Addison literally shove both Aaron the blonde apart and aside from me. The blonde whines.

“You okay?” Paris asks, putting both his hands on my arms, looking down at me, as he steps through the space they’ve just created for him.

I nod my head.

“Can we get out of here, go somewhere else, no Nons allowed?” I mutter in a low voice at him.

He looks over at Aaron with a look that would normally be accompanied by a growl. But he’s silent, it’s just the presence of him, the look of anger in it, that makes Aaron shrink back into Addison, who’s already holding him back by his arms.
Addison chuckles.

“Yeah, let’s go find out own little world.”


Pack Animals

August 24, 2010
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Full moon night and I’m sitting at a table in a club, surrounded by Alpha Werewolves.

We’re drinking shots and they’re playing a sexual game of temptation. They’re trying to push each other’s buttons, not because they want one another.  They’re just doing it for amusement.

As the night goes on, the moon rises higher in the night sky. And as it gets closer to full moon, when the moon is completely full and at it’s highest point in the sky, us werewolves become more affected.

So what’s that like?

Well, I’m a Beta wolf so I guess you could say I feel things easier than the Alpha’s.  I’m more sensitive by full moon night as it were.  I’m already sweating, continuously just from the heat radiating from their bodies around me.  Also from being surrounded by so many Alpha pheromones in the air.

I’m roasting in my own body heat and my hormones are  making me squirm.  I’m constantly needing to touch, rub, or press some part of me against my packmate, Paris.

Another round of shots and the laughing starts again and it becomes  Jules turn to do whatever he can to get the pack’s thoughts racing and their libido’s amped up as we all watch each other to see who will react to whatever he does.

Dirty jokes, flashing body parts, suggestive imagery, and asking other wolves, those dancing, those not attached to those at these tables, to do things, put on a show or two for us.

I’m already out of this game. Paris is still in, but he’s got it extra hard, no pun intended because I keep crawling into his lap, or kissing him, or putting my hand up his shirt.   The others at the table don’t have partners on top of them, with them, doing what I’m doing. But then Paris is the Alpha pack leader, so they all expect to him to put in a damn strong showing in this weird little game they’re all playing.

So me pestering him, is considered average.  No different as it were to them without the extra pressure of a horny packmate trying to distract them.

Temptation is all about getting a reaction, an honest, unstoppable reaction out of fellow wolves.   There comes a point where something appeals to us, to the baser nature of our sexual beasts and eventually a spike in temperature, a facial tic, a pick up in heart beat, that continues on, gives away to each of us, who has just reached their peak of patience.

And still Paris holds out, even as he’s dared to bite me.  Not hard, not like I’m food, but  with his werewolf fangs all the same.  Each of them seem to think I’m going to be his undoing. They each keep trying to use me to get to him.

But while I’m doing things to him, and enjoying them. I’m deliberately doing it in a way that gives better views to someone else at the table, or I share a look with one of the others.   Kind of using what they’re trying to get me to do to him, to them.

We all hear the instant heart beat pick up and sense a spike in reaction as I arch backwards, my throat full exposed, my head dropping back, giving the boys opposite me,  a full view of the mounds of my breasts.

There’s a heavy sigh.  All eyes fall on Wiatt. He bows his head.

“I’m out.” He says softly, before making his way out from around the table and heading straight towards the dance floor, scouring for an available wolf.

Addison looks at us, and back out at Wiatt as he’s suddenly surrounded on the dance floor by near naked wolves.

“Oh screw this, or rather, I’d like to screw them.” He mutters at us a, downs his shot and heads out to the dance floor for some real play before we all have to shape shift.

Jules looks out at us and back at the semi naked bodies, writhing and dancing and looking joyous in their abandonment of clothing and sexual liberation.

“Oh to hell with this.”

Paris and I smirk at him, and he’s gone and we’re left alone and together.

“Paris for the win.” I mutter kissing him, and running my hands through his hair.

“Pack animals, sometimes they need to remember why I’m the Pack Alpha here.  I’ll never let anyone use you against me. Ever.” He says softly before we kiss.


Werewolf fighting 101

July 24, 2010
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Some werewolf females are just bitches and should be treated as such.

It was left up to Jules, to tell Gabby that she couldn’t sit at the Alpha’s table in the club the other night. It didn’t go down well, that the Manhattan Maen Alpha female, was once again, being vanquished from the good graces of the leading pack’s Alpha male, Paris. See, status and hierarchy is a very important thing in a werewolf pack.

Being an Alpha automatically sets you up, as being far more superior and precious and better, than the majority of your fellow werewolves. So seeing a beta wolf, from a neighboring pack, sit at the leading Alpha’s table with him and his hierarchy before her, was never going to go down well with the likes of Gabby’s ego.

Especially since, awhile ago, when I was off the Manhattan scene, she seemed to be filling in the place of ‘female’ required seating at the pack leader’s table. But now I’m back, and that means, she has to go find other places to hang out in the clubs when I’m around. Paris and the boys know, we do not get along.

Werewolves, butt heads with them, if you’re bored or assured of your superiority.

I was in the female restroom when Gabby stormed in, slamming the door behind her, clearly, not taking the news that she was being shuffled around the club to accommodate my presence, all that well.

“Oh it’s you.” She said looking me over as I stood in front of the counter top.

“The feelings mutual.” I muttered back at her, not taking my eyes of the mirror before me. Which was my mistake. It’s like I forgot how feral a pissed of she wolf could be. She marched over to me.

“They treat you like you’re one of us!” She spat in my face, pushing me backwards so I stumbled over my own high heels, off balance slightly and hit the nearest wall.
“You’re not one of us!” She poked me in the chest sharply. “You’re not even an Alpha! I’m the freak’n Alpha female here and you’re the one they treat like the freaking queen of the wolves!” She said moving in front of me so I was backed into the wall with her blocking my escape.

“No, I’m not you. I’m better than you.” I replied smiling at her.

Remember kiddies, the golden rule when werewolves are fighting, is werewolves do not back down. Especially when confronted by pack. Or you know in this case, another, pack wolf bitch.

Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe I had the audacity to speak back, let alone throw a massive insult at her. Of course, that just made things worse.

She growled at me, I heard a sharp snap of something and Gabby showed me her fangs. I heard something similar to a popping sound and realized it was muscle and bone breaking. She was shape shifting part of herself, not smoothly or elegantly. But she was getting the job done.

Again, not a good sign, for me.

Gabby grabbed me by the throat with her still very human hand while her right hand slashed at my chest with razor sharp talons for claws. She moved fast. But not so fast I couldn’t see it coming and try and fight her off. She was stronger than me and had me in a bad position to be taken advantage of.

So I decided to play dirty.
You want bitchy, come see me when I’m pissed off. I can roll with the best of them.

I threw up my knee, hard into her body. And as she flinched in sharp pain – yes girls are just as sensitive to getting kicked in the crotch as boys, I threw out a right jab into the side of her face. This caught her off guard and she momentarily loosed her grip on my throat. Which was what I needed to get into a better position of attack, rather than defend.

Werewolf fighting one-o-one, we fight by attacking, not defending.

As she slashed back at my arm with her werewolf clawed hand, I had enough room to move off the wall and throw my elbow into face. She lost all sense of grip on me then as she cried out, her nose bursting with blood. I shoved her aside, into the counter top, which she hit hard, in the side of her body before falling down onto the floor, before she could stop herself.

I kicked her pointedly in the ribs, once, with my heels and got out.

I emerged in the club and it was only then that I realized I was in pain. That I seemed to allow the sensation through my brain haze. The stinging sensation across my arm and chest, was bleeding. I looked down at my top, which was just concealing my breast on one side.

That bitch, she’d cut the shoulder strap off it and had nicely slashed open the left side of my chest, with a wicked streak of claw marks.

When I looked up again, I swear every pair of eyes in that club was on me.
It was the blood.
Fresh blood and every werewolf in the place, could smell it.

My blood, still bleeding, enticing their inner beasts to want out. To want to bear fangs and fur and shred me even more. It’s a natural instinct, a really powerful one, that’s harder than hard to ignore or see reason through. Especially if you’re a werewolf with little self control or weakened will.

Potentially, a very bad situation to be in.

Because bleeding so obviously, out in the open, indicated I was injured. Injury assumes weakness and weakness to werewolves, means prey. Prey gets attacked or eaten.

I could not be seen as prey.

I saw Addison and Jules readying in the distance, throwing hand signals at one another and grabbing their people. But there was still around fifty or so werewolves between them and me. I looked at all the wolves around me, who had stopped whatever they were doing and were now staring at me hungrily, like they were just waiting for a green light to clean me up. Or for some one to make the first move.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I picked another fight, with another wolf. A male wolf nearest too me.

I started throwing punches at him, as hard as I could. Knocking him around, again and again. He threw out a few return punches, but they lacked power. He went down easily enough and I followed him down, continuing to smack his skin with my fists, until my knuckles split open from the hitting. I can not tell you how much that hurts. Werewolves, tough, but not completly oblivious to pain.

Werewolf.
Does not back down.

I couldn’t let this pack, see me as a weakness, or think they could somehow take advantage of me because I’m not one of them, or because I’m just a beta wolf. It was a show of strength, and I think the wolf I laid into understood that. Otherwise he’d have really fought back at me.

By this time, Jules was pulling the guy out from under me. Nobody touched me, as I slowly stood back up. Aching with throbbing pain in my hands, arms, stinging abrasions across my chest. Covered in blood.

Addison looked at me.

“I got you another drink, it’s at your table, if you’d like it.” He said loud enough for everyone around us to hear.

I sighed heavily and flicked my hair back over my shoulder. Like nothing was amiss.

Addison and Jules had a guard of older wolves, either side of the crowd that had formed. Like a formation guard for me to walk through. We were putting on a show of who was who, for the pack to see.

Addison started walking beside me. But once again, everything stopped when Gabby appeared from the restroom, holding her hand to her nose. She had blood smeared across her upper lip.

I looked back at her and she at me. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead and buried.
“I hope I broke it.” I said smiling at her.
Addison rolled his eyes at me. As if to say ‘you two are so immature’.

“Shall we?” He asked as I turned around and we walked back over to Paris, at his table.

If I’d have been in real trouble for starting a fight there, Paris himself would have been pulling me off that wolf. Berating me in front of everyone. Or at the very least, instructed Addison to yank me back off him.

But they hadn’t, so clearly, I’d done something right, in standing up for myself.


Beta Werewolf vs Alpha lycan

May 18, 2010
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How to explain to your boyfriend, that you’re out for the night, filling a vendetta?

Don’t bother. Because he’ll figure it out, anyway. Well, he will if he’s the leading pack Alpha of the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack and you, his girlfriend, are causing trouble in his territory.

If I’d been in my right mind, and not floating around in the obsession of getting payback on the female lycan hunter that has a rather personal history with me. Then I’d have realized, of course, that not much goes on in a werewolf’s territory, that doesn’t get noticed by some member of the pack.

Especially if the pack, like the Manhattan Maen is rather large in numbers. Of course it means, that some good little werewolf, is going to report a mad capped, ferocious werewolf versus lycan marathon through the streets of Manhattan to it’s hierarchy.

Especially when there is potential for human casualties to be involved and of course, a greater exposure to the law enforcement and human community to contend with.

I mean, twenty questions and more is just damn annoying.

Still, I was starting to bleed when Paris sent in the troops to find out what the hell was going on, after receiving a lot of weird phone calls about sightings about two women hell bent on destroying everything in their path as well, each other it seemed.

I didn’t get to do what I wanted with the lycan.

Because Addison and Jules, Paris’s tough guys caught up to me before I could.
Of course they would.

Alpha warriors who are the best at what they do, keep the peace on their side of the Hudson. You rarely hear about werewolf wars and werewolf fighting going on over here. Probably because Addison and Jules are great at great at fighting and of course, super strong.

They’re not the only ones Paris uses for such things, but they are his main guys. So when they saw when they came across me and miss lycan in a dead end alleyway circling each other and growling, they didn’t stop to ask questions.

I mean, a girl fight is pretty damn obvious. Especially since the lycan bitch had her fangs and her talon like finger nail claws out.

It all went down so fast. Like plunging headlong into an inescapable bad dream you know is going to swallow you up whole.

I was taking hits and landing two to her every four, then I hit the wall behind me.The boys just yanked me back out of the fight and jumped right in my place instead. Went head to head with the lycan.

To say I was ballistic would be an understatement in severity of my rage.

Which of course, was more than enough to scare the bejezus out of the lycan, well I’d like to think so. It was probably more to do with Addison and Jules tag teaming to keep me at bay and take hard hitting pot shots at her, that maybe, even she couldn’t really better.

Still she managed to high tailed it mightily fast out of there as Addison went for me, as I went to run after her and he yelled at Jules to go after the lycan.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I didn’t fight Addison. He may be my boyfriend’s right hand man in pack business and his best friend, but his timing and his concern for my welfare – sucked!

I thrashed like I was drowning in a rip-tide that was holding me in place. Nothing but energy and desperation, fuelled me as I struggled against him for a good ten minutes. Trying to get out of his one arm hold on me. I was like a paper weight to Addison, but even so, I kicked him in the shins, several times in a vain hope of release.

He phoned Paris to update him on what was going on. Although, I must’ve angered him at some point, because he did tell me, if I didn’t stop struggling he would break both my ankles. Regardless of who my boyfriend/his best friend was.

I stopped.

Of course I can recover from that, but the breaking bones part, it still hurts a hell of a lot and is inconvinent.

The brief gist of the covert conversation relayed to Paris went something like – the Manhattan Maen Alpha’s pack partner and girlfriend was going nuts at him over some unknown Lycan bitch who had evaded their capture, but that Jules was on it.

I stopped struggling and yelling at Addison after he finished the phone call, when he said to me
“Paris is on his way to see you.”

That statement alone, sounded like my fate was sealed. The tone of Addison’s voice didn’t sound like we were going to have the happiest of reunions.

On the bright side, at least my ankles are in tact.


Wild lives, Fun times.

April 27, 2010
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I watch the four males walk into the club.

Paris is smiling and laughing at something Wiatt seems to be animatedly telling him. Addison is grinning too. Jules is already scanning their surrounds for some night time activity. The bodies that dance and shimmer in the lights and sweat, moving with one another and the beat of the music.

They stride with casual ease and muscular elegance that you would mistake warriors of their kind for gentlemen. Their ferocity hidden behind blue jeans and designer shirts. Just four normal guys, on a night out, having a boys night out. Four good looking males, who on occasion, like on a full moon, turn totally furry and howl. Four males who relish they’re Alpha side, in the form of the werewolves they truly are. They’re relaxed, it’s good to see. We all like have fun, we all try to unwind and enjoy the good times on a lunar week.

But they’re not normal and that becomes apparent when Paris lifts his head, his brown hair, that was curtaining his dark eyes, moving with the flick of his head as his eyes sight and lock onto me immediately. I can see his look subtly change. His eyes sharpen and darken slightly. His smile falters briefly, as if he’s winded momentarily and then it widens again. He picks up the pace of his strides, leaving the other three half a step behind him as he walks over to me, and me towards him.

“Hey,”
“Hey.” I reply.

Anything but normal when you’re caught in that gaze. It’s mesmerizingly intense. If I was prey, I’d feel like I was being hunted by this domineering werewolf male. But he doesn’t make me feel that way. He makes me feel consumed.
Werewolves love hard.
At least this werewolf does.

His hand slides to the back of my neck and under my black hair, scooping it up off my neck as he pulls me closer to him, his other hands sliding around my waist. My own arms slid up the long sleeves of his shirt, cupping his face as we kiss.

My eyes are closed and I can feel his heart beating madly in his chest, can hear it’s picked up beat. The heat of his body, and hardness of it pressing into me, the dampness of his shirt plastering to his skin, sticking to me too as we press together. Our kiss deepening.

“Can we get some drinks here please!” Addison yells loudly. “Help control these flames.” I hear.
“It’s hot in here.” Jules quips.
“Get a room!” Wiatt joins in, as Paris and I break apart. He slips his arm around my waist keeping my side connected to his.

“We have a room.” I mutter looking at Wiatt and then indicating the rest of the nightclub, which is in the usual throws of abandoned enjoyment as every wolf in there soaks in the sensations of connection, sex and unity.

Wiatt raises and eyebrow in surprise.
“You wouldn’t.”

I raise an eyebrow.
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

Wiatt looks over at his big brother, Paris with a questioning look.

“The wild werewolves, are the ones that always seem so nice, tame, quiet and angelic.” He replies grinning, as Addison hands me a champagne and Paris a beer. Wiatt shakes his head and laughs. So do we.

It’s all good, when the moon is high and we’re all enjoying our wild lives and fun times, with the werewolves of New York.


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