MY GIRLFRIEND BITES ME SAMPLE #1

The release of the final book in the series is just around the corner. So, here’s a sample from the new book! I’ll post a second sample on Monday. Enjoy!

Aiden

I brace for the most insane thing that I’ve ever attempted…allowing a werewolf to hunt me down inside a dark forest in the middle of the night. I mean, it’s pitch black out here. And I’m hiding under a fallen tree trunk with only enough room to sandwich myself between the dead wood and the cold hard ground.

Why am I doing this?

Because my girlfriend needs the distraction. She needs to feel like herself again. She needs to experience a little joy in her otherwise horrible life. First, an army of reanimated dead soldiers killed almost everyone she loved inside her Colorado wolf pack. Then she lost her house and most of her new wolf pack in a second attack. Now, her mother and father were kidnapped by a secret society of humans who wear porcelain baby masks.

My thumb strokes the soft eagle feather in my palm. Using her witchcraft, Lark enchanted the feather and gave it to me. When I hold it in my palm, the feather hides my scent from animals. I wanted to give my girlfriend a challenge. Tonight, she’ll have to use more than her nose to find me.

The sound of leaves brushing against something catches my attention. Could it be her?

I hold my breath.

And listen.

A thud. Something jumped on top of my fallen tree trunk.

I hold perfectly still.

A low grumble comes from the animal’s mouth.

It must be her. I recognize that grumble.

Why hasn’t she pounced? Can she still not smell me?

Maybe she’s frustrated. It’s been an hour since we started the hunt, and I didn’t tell her about the magic feather.

The grumbling fades off to my right as if she’s still hunting.

You know what? It’s been long enough. Besides, lying on the ground for an hour is kinda boring.

I scramble to my feet and yell, “Got ya!”

The dark, four-legged figure jumps back in alarm, then takes a few steps back.

“I know, you couldn’t smell me, could you? Well, I have a confession to make—”

A lightning flash from an incoming storm lights up the forest. It’s brief enough to make me stop in my tracks. The animal I saw was not a werewolf.

I hit the flashlight app on my phone and light up the forest to reveal a large mountain lion. Its bright blue eyes take me in.

As a snack.

Its paws move forward.

“Get away from me, you stupid cat.”

The large cat ignores my suggestion and licks its lips as it quietly approaches.

I back up. “I’m not tasty at all. You’ll hate eating me. Dude, I’m filled with grape soda and chicken and cheese nachos.”

I shouldn’t have said chicken.

The lion pauses, licks its lips again, then leaps in the air.

I drop to the ground and try to protect my neck and head from his jaws. But something jumps over me and crashes into the mountain lion. A series of angry barks and growls echo across the forest as the two animals fight each other. I scramble to find my phone. Once I do, I shine it in the direction of the fight.

The mountain lion hisses at the large gray werewolf. Bree shows her long fangs that barely fit inside her mouth. A string of saliva falls off her massive teeth. The wolf’s eyes burn red, like two twinkling rubies.

The mountain lion moves backward, trying to retreat.

A loud howl bellows from the werewolf. She barks and growls again at the lion, daring it to make a move against her.

The lion has second thoughts. It breaks into a run and disappears.

I suck in oxygen, discovering that I’ve been holding my breath this entire time. “That was close. Thanks.”

The werewolf turns her attention to me, sniffing me all over.

“Oh, it was this.” I hold up the eagle feather. “Lark and I wanted to give you a challenge.”

The werewolf tilts her head. She doesn’t understand.

“Why don’t you meet me at the car, and I’ll explain.”

Ten minutes later, Bree Mayflower emerges from the forest inside the Buffalo Mountain Wilderness Area, wearing some shorts and a sports bra. She glistens in sweat as she walks over to the only car in the lit parking lot.

“Do you want a towel?” I ask.

Bree nods. I drape the towel over her shoulders and pull her into a hug. Her face lurches in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I remove the towel, and there’s blood staining the cotton. Bree has a few red slashes going down her back.

“She got in a scratch or two. You’re lucky. She was a hungry little mountain lion.”

“It was my fault. I thought she was you.”

“If I hadn’t heard your voice, she would’ve chewed off your leg.” Bree rubs the towel over her wet hair. “So, what’s with that feather? Was that the reason I couldn’t pick up your scent?”

“Lark enchanted it. I just wanted to give you a challenge.”

Bree finishes drying herself off. “I was getting worried. I thought you might have ditched me in the forest.” She puts on her T-shirt.

“I did that once. And never again.”

Bree leans against me. “You’d better not.”

I kiss her on the lips. She wraps her arms around me, and we kiss some more. Her hair smells like honeysuckle and lilacs. Her skin is so soft to the touch.

Bree opens the door of her big, black 1967 Oldsmobile and drags me inside, making our way to the back-seat.

“Don’t hurt the kids,” she says.

I lift my butt and pull out two stuffed animals. I place Rocky and Bullwinkle in the rear window so they can watch. I turn my attention back to Bree’s cherry-red lips.

She stops and turns Rocky and Bullwinkle around so they’re not looking at us.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t talk. Just kiss me,” Bree says.

I do as she commands.

We kiss and kiss.

Soon, I have her T-shirt back off again…and that’s when Bree shoots back up in the seat.

“What?”

Bree puts her T-shirt back on. “We’re about to get some company.”

A white spotlight floods the interior.

I jump up.

A vehicle moves behind our car and flicks on its red and blue lights.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to the smell of fried bacon. I roll off the plastic air mattress that takes up most of the apartment’s living room. Dylan stirs on the couch, still gripping his fluffy pillow and blanket. His eyes are open, but his mind is somewhere else.

I’ll take a wild guess. He’s still thinking about Pennsylvania. A month ago, he basically led all of us into another Demon Skin trap that almost wiped us all out. I remember Dylan sitting there in a daze while his fellow werewolves were dying all over the place. If Bree and I hadn’t dragged him out of there, he’d be dead too.

Most of the time Dylan just keeps to himself. That’s fine with me. I wasn’t a fan of his anyway.

“How do you like your eggs, Aiden?” Mrs. Thornton asks. “I forgot.”

In the apartment’s tiny kitchen, Lark’s mom stands next to the stove, wearing a long robe that looks like a Japanese kimono, but it’s not that.

“Scrambled is fine.” I move over to the small table that barely fits into the apartment’s dining “area.”

“How about with some cheese mixed in?”

I give her a thumbs-up.

Mrs. Thornton grins, then notices her daughter’s plate. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

Lark brushes back her black and purple strands of hair. She’s trying out a new goth-like makeup look, and it kinda makes her face more scary than awesome. “Huh?”

“You just have toast there. Do you want some eggs and bacon?”

“The toast is fine.” Lark bites off the end of some dark-looking toast.

“Is that burnt?” I ask.

Lark nods with satisfaction. “It’s delicious.”

“Put your notebook up. It’s people time. Your spells can wait.”

“I’m writing a story, Mom. It’s about a dead superhero…who’s a ghost.”

“Like Batman?” I ask.

Lark shuts her notebook. “Nah, more like Aquaman. He haunts, like, ships that cross the sea, and he can summon up dead sea monsters. Stuff like that.”

I pour myself a glass of orange juice from the carton on the table. “Sounds awesome.”

Lark flashes a smile as her eyes soften. “I’ll let you read it when I’m done.”

Mrs. Thornton dishes up some fresh scrambled eggs, bacon, and burnt toast. She puts the plate in front of me. I thank her and examine the burned toast. Well, at least she put butter on it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Thornton says, reading my face. “I’m so used to the way Lark likes hers—give me a second.” The woman pops two more pieces of bread in the toaster.

“Since you’re not eating it.” Lark snatches my toast and bites into it. “Still hot and fresh.”

A girl’s hand slides across my chest as her soft black hair brushes against my cheek. I turn around and see Bree’s natural face. Even without makeup, she looks hot.

Bree gives me a squeeze before sitting down.

“Bacon?” Mrs. Thornton asks.

“Ten slices, please.”

“That’s all we have left.”

“Dylan, you want any bacon?” Bree calls out.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You sure?”

Dylan doesn’t answer again.

Bree shrugs as she nibbles on some of my bacon.

“Didn’t you go hunting last night?” Lark asks. “I’m surprised you’re not stuffed.”

“I didn’t catch anything. Well, I could’ve eaten a mountain lion, but they’re not that tasty. Oh, did you tell them?”

“Tell them what?” I ask.

“About what happened?”

My morning brain is still not running at full capacity.

Bree blows me off. “A sheriff’s deputy caught us making out in the back-seat of my car.”

“Oh shit.”

Mrs. Thornton fires her daughter a look.

“Sorry, Mom.” Lark leans forward. “What did you do?”

“The area is closed at dusk, so we were technically trespassing,” I say. “But since we were…in our car…at the time, he just gave us a warning.”

Mrs. Thornton places two pieces of lightly toasted bread on my plate. “You two were lucky. What if they detained you and tried to call your parents?”

“My dad would’ve come to pick me up. No problem.” As soon as I say it, my stomach drops.

Bree’s happiness evaporates. She has no mom and dad.

Actually, they’re still alive, but no one knows where. No one knows if they’re okay. And no one knows if they’ll ever be back again.

Why did I have to answer that question?

“There’s still some sausage left from yesterday,” Mrs. Thornton says. “I’ll fry some of that up along with the bacon. Will that work?”

Bree’s frown cracks a little as she nods her approval.

* * *

Wiley Post High School is covered in fog this morning. A gray abyss that swallows up the school buses, the teacher’s cars, and most of the city of Tulsa, Oklahoma. The glass windows inside our building draw in that gray light, making the hallways dim and depressing.

Bree leans against the metal locker next to mine. Her mind just as occupied as Dylan’s was this morning. And I know who she’s thinking about too.

“We’ll find them. Don’t worry.”

“It’s been four weeks,” Bree says. “They could be dead.”

I squeeze her hand. “Hey, don’t talk like that. Your dad is the toughest person I’ve ever met. And your mom loves you so much. That love for you will keep them both alive.”

Bree stares at the floor tiles.

“Something will turn up. We just have to stay positive.”

Bree checks my eyes.

“Didn’t you tell me once that werewolves are optimists by nature?”

Bree’s mouth twitches to the side.

“Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”

Bree sighs.

I shut my locker. “Love you.”

Bree cracks a smile. “Love you more.”

She backs away and heads off to first hour.

I check the time and run into the nearest bathroom to pinch off a loaf in a hurry. By the time I’m done and safe for humanity again, the bell for first hour rings. It’s not the first time I’ve been late, but I might have to see Principal Echohawk again.

I blow off my concern and head for my first class. As I reach for the door handle…the door swings open by itself, allowing Issy to step into the hallway.

“What’s going—?”

Issy cuts me off with a finger over his lips. He motions me over to the other side of the hallway. “Glad I caught ya, A-man. Mrs. Pickford is sick, and the substitute forgot to call roll. You know what that means, right? Forty-five minutes of skip time.”

Saved by the substitute. Maybe this day won’t suck after all.

“Where can we go?” I ask. “They’ll check all the bathrooms.”

Ten minutes later, we use our ninja stealth skills to slip out of the main school building and into the thick fog outside.

We become instantly lost.

“The student parking lot is this way,” Issy says. “The Force is guiding me, young Padawan.”

Issy walks ahead, his arm extended with his palm facing forward as if he’s Iron Man leading us to a glorious victory. But the glory turns to failure as Issy rams his hand into a metal sign. He shakes his arm and lets out a stream of cuss words in Punjabi, his native language.

I take a closer look at the sign.

BUS LANE ONLY.

“The Force sucks,” I say. “This is the bus loop.”

Issy tries to make a fist but grimaces. “I think I broke my hand.”

“If you did, I doubt you could move your fingers like that.”

Issy sighs. “The Force does not suck. However, I’m not yet an experienced Jedi.”

“Or an experienced junior.”

“We’re wasting precious skip time. Which way should we go?”

I point towards school. “That’s where we came from. If this is the bus loop, then we should be able to head in the general direction of the student parking lot.”

“To Moogle maps, Batman!” Issy breaks out his phone. He blows up the Wiley Post High School campus on the map and uses his phone’s location to verify where we are. “Yup, we’re near the bus loop.”

“Why didn’t you just use that to start with?”

“Wait, we’re two amigos here. Why didn’t you think of it first?”

The two of us follow the Moogle map and eventually find the student parking lot. It takes some time to listen for Issy’s car to chirp at us using its automatic locks, but we find his tricked-out Volkswagen Jetta and climb inside. The fog is so thick that you can barely see the car next to us.

“This is sweet,” I say.

“Yeah, Echohawk won’t go out in this crap to look for students skipping class.” Issy reaches for something in his back-seat. He pulls out his lime-green plastic Halo Xbox lunch box. I haven’t seen it since elementary school.

“You still have that?”

Issy grins and pops it open. It’s filled with bags of nuts, cookies, and snack cakes.

“Nice.”

“It’s for emergencies. I’ve got some water back here too, but it’s not cold. Take what you want.”

I rip open a package of chocolate donuts. “Water is fine. Thanks, Issy.”

“Having a girlfriend means you need to have snacks. That way, when she talks too much…you give her something to keep her mouth busy.”

I laugh. “Is that your secret to happiness with Pamela?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love talking to her. But…she sometimes wants to talk about clothes and cosmetics and celebrity gossip and her sewing crafts.” Issy closes his eyes. “I can’t handle sewing crafts, A-man.”

“And that’s when you break out the snacks?”

“Those Twix bars are Pamela’s kryptonite. All that caramel and chocolate keeps her mouth busy for a long time.”

We sit back and enjoy the fog. It’s like we’re parked inside a cloud.

“You two are still good, right? Even through all that craziness with Lark and her mom?” I ask.

Issy rips open some peanut butter crackers. “She and I are still solid. Can’t say the same for Pamela and her family though. I hate going over there sometimes. Pamela’s been stressing out ever since her mom kicked her aunt and Lark out of the house.” Issy munches on a cracker. “Pamela’s mom says that her sister and niece are, quote, ‘whores of Satan’ because they practice witchcraft. And when Pamela brings up the fact that her mom’s family are all witches, her mom freaks out and tells her to go read her Bible again.”

“Sounds like a mess.” I pop another mini-donut in my mouth.

Issy swallows some water. “How’s the new apartment?”

“It’s crowded, but we’re making it work.”

“How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Only two. Lark and Bree share one, and her mom uses the other one.”

“Where do you sleep?”

“The living room. Dylan and I rotate. One gets the couch while the other sleeps on an air mattress that barely fits. Like I said, it’s crowded.” I wash down my donut with some water.

“I thought Lark’s mom was broke. That’s why they first moved in with Pamela’s mom, right? I mean, how is she paying rent and electric and stuff?”

“Bree still has her mom’s passwords to all the Mayflowers’ bank accounts. She still uses the ATM card and gives the cash to Lark’s mom so she can pay rent and all that.”

“Bree’s parents must have been loaded. That mini-mansion they had. The Range Rover her dad drove. Will Bree get all that money now since they’re—”

“Dude, they’re not dead. They were kidnapped. Someday we’re going to find them.”

Issy puts up his hands. “Easy, A-man. We’re just talking.”

I stop myself. My heart is racing. My body all worked up. I guess I’m worried about Bree’s parents too.

“Sorry.” I toss a donut in my mouth and let the chocolate calm me down. “My girlfriend is stressing out too.” I wash down my donut with water. “Wish I could do something to help her.”

“We should join forces.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both have stressed-out girlfriends. So we both aren’t getting any love tugs, French kisses, or even a boobie show. That means we should join forces and make our girls happy again.” Issy grabs another cracker. “I’ll help you find the Mayflowers. There has to be information out there somewhere that might help tell you what happened to them.”

“Good luck with that. Bree and I have been searching the internet for weeks.”

“Send me all the info you’ve got. Let me work on it, A-man.”