登入I’ve written 8 chapters so far and I’m curious to know how everyone likes it. Please give me some comments, whether you love it or hate it. I’d appreciate feedback. Feedback is how writers grow. Thank you, Jimmy
Where had Chelsea gone? How had she gotten out? Bjorn rolled onto his back, the garden shed’s gritty shingle tiles biting into his skin. He winced out of instinct, then realized it didn’t actually hurt. What a night!, he thought as he lay staring up at the moon. It had to be close to sunrise, as the moon had travelled nearly all the way across the darkened sky. But over the last several hours, he had bound his girlfriend in chains, damn near been killed by her, realized that at least two other werewolves were prowling the cemetery, barely escaped with his life, and healed his own wounds. What else could happen?He ran both hands through his hair, closing his eyes, deep breaths to calm his tattered nerves.A subtle huffing below him brought him out of his meditation. He opened his eyes, listening intently for whatever was down there. He could hear heavy breathing, and determined sniffing like a dog investigating a rabbit hole. A warning growl sounded, but not from the sniffer. The
Bjorn collapsed onto his back, chest heaving, gasping for breath. The full moon’s spotlight upon his tattered body revealed a myriad of injuries.His chest was torn asunder from Chelsea’s claw swipe, and his left calf and ankle were streaked with angry red slashes. Blood poured forth from his wounds, made worse from the shock he was going into.He had to get his breathing under control. He bent his knees, and placed his hands at his sides. He was an avid yoga practitioner so he was no neophyte when it came to meditation. It only took a few calming moments for him to come back into himself. The bright moonlight was strangely serene, and the cemetery had gone quiet. He lay on his back, eyes closed, and made himself part of his surroundings. He heard nothing. He felt nothing as his mind settled.Then a curious thing happened. He felt a stitch in his side, a gentle tingle where Chelsea’s claws had ripped at him. He propped himself onto his elbows and sat in amazement as his side seemed to
Chelsea eyed the man cooly, relishing him squirming in the discarded, filthy chair. He was naked, his spent cock jiggling with each of his movements. She could tell that he was about to run for his life. As he should. She was going to have him for dinner tonight. Her first meal had just treated himself to her chained body and he was now going to pay the ultimate price. She had one hand free and was determined to release the other from its bonds. The chains rattled as she worked, the man dancing anxiously with each jostle of chain. He knew his end was near.Just then, a wispy cloud covered the moon and darkened the garden shed. She heard the movement and yipped in alarm as the man flashed passed her. He had bolted for the door of the garden shed and was fumbling with the lock. He had barred the entry to keep them both in, and now he couldn’t get out. Not fast enough anyway.Should she know this man? He looked vaguely familiar, but her mind felt all scrambled. Her body felt amazing– st
Bjorn sat restlessly on the side of the bed. He didn’t feel right, like the collar on his t-shirt was too small. The moon was coming up and he was feeling its pull. His skin felt prickly and his mouth had been watering for an hour. And he’d only been bitten a few days ago. Chelsea, on the other hand, was a few months into this. The fact the Pack Leader had initiated her meant tonight was her first full transition.He had no idea what that might mean. He’d seen enough scary werewolf movies to know that she was bound for some grotesque changes. Hopefully it wouldn’t hurt too much. Hopefully the near-fatal dose of sleeping pills he gave her would numb her enough to make her changes tolerable.Chelsea had been sprawled on the bed, immobile, totally wasted on sleeping pills for over an hour. Her groan caught him off guard, as he had hoped she’d just sleep through the night. She was becoming restless though, and he needed to take action before she became lucid enough to see him. It would be
“How was the trip to Mr. Rosewood’s?” Chelsea asked, noticing immediately Bjorn’s distant look as he climbed up the creaking steps of the caretaker’s cottage. She’d been sitting on the front porch waiting for him.She’d been thinking of ways to show him that she appreciated him. It had been two weeks since they’d first met, and she was actually having legitimate feelings for this much older man. She had promised herself never to fall in love because she assumed every man was just like her father– aloof, self-absorbed, manipulative. Sadly, that’s what too many of her random hookups had shown her as well, and usually after just a few days.Bjorn was different though. He was genuine in his care for others. She admired the way that he provided opportunities for the two old lady gardeners, Dottie and Sam, to enjoy their senior years in a meaningful way. And he treated the other staff of the cemetery with respect. He treated Chelsea with respect as well. He treated her like a person with ho
Bjorn awoke the next morning resolved to understand what he’d gotten himself into. His girlfriend was clearly a werewolf, formally initiated into her pack. And now he may become a werewolf himself.Chelsea’s father, David Pendergast, had suggested that Bjorn speak to his soothsayer, Mr. Gregory Rosewood, at his bookstore downtown. Bjorn had been in the bookstore before, Delphine’s Crystal Emporium, but had never interacted with Mr. Rosewood himself. The eccentric old man had told Bjorn that his family was an ancient clan of werewolf hunters.It looked like Bjorn was hunting…himself?He shook his head as he tossed aside the sheets. Chelsea, laying flat on her tummy, turned her head to him. She had guilt in her eyes, and she reached out and clutched Bjorn’s arm. “B…” was all she said. He looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide if he was angry, disgusted, or accepting of her apology. She couldn’t help that she’d become a werewolf, and it wasn’t her fault that her teen pussy ha
Bjorn needed to adjust his stance. His knees, straining from kneeling for so long, screamed in agony. He gasped, as much in pain as in pleasure.He clasped her hands, fingers interlocking, and pushed them stretching beyond her head as he fell forward. She arched her back, breasts jiggling as they r
Bjorn didn’t make it very far. He lurched as if in a drunken nightmare, the sound of dozens of bare feet thumping on the stone floor as they overtook him. He went down in a pile of naked, hairy bodies. Male, female, no matter. They were all over him, wrestling him to the cold floor and tearing at
“This just arrived for you,” Miriam, his administrative assistant declared, waving a fancy, gold-trimmed envelope. “What have you gotten yourself into, Mister Caretaker?”Miriam, along with Dottie and Samantha, helped keep the cemetery operating. Miriam was a retired secretary of a major law firm do
Bjorn stepped gingerly from the shower, the steaming water searing his back unexpectedly. He wiped his hand across the mirror, turned for a glance and recoiled in painful horror. Crimson, swollen, animalistic scratches ran the length of his spine. He didn’t remember Chelsea latching on, but that gi







