{"id":3792,"date":"2013-12-09T08:00:22","date_gmt":"2013-12-09T14:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=3792"},"modified":"2017-05-23T22:15:39","modified_gmt":"2017-05-24T03:15:39","slug":"howling-for-you-teaser","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=3792","title":{"rendered":"Howling For You – Teaser"},"content":{"rendered":"

Chicago, Illinois<\/em><\/p>\n

\"9780698144286_p0_v1_s260x420\"Tension and magic filled the air like invisible smoke, swirling around us with the weight of ancient mysteries. We stared at each other across the small table like foes across a battlefield, weapons honed and at the ready.<\/p>\n

But we weren\u2019t enemies.<\/p>\n

We just weren\u2019t anything else, either, exactly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to play sometime tonight?\u201d he said. \u201cI mean, if you\u2019re scared, I can give you a little more time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t rush genius,\u201d I said, looking over the fan of cards in my hand at the man who sat across from me.<\/p>\n

He was tall and lean with light brown hair long enough to tuck behind his ears or flop into his eyes. His eyes, blue and usually glazed with happiness, smiled back at me. He looked young\u2014fresh-faced and eager\u2014but he had the skills of a warrior and the heart of a tiger. Quite literally.<\/p>\n

Jeff Christopher was a shape-shifter and a member of my family\u2019s Pack, the North American Central.<\/p>\n

I crossed one leg over the other, my skirt, tights, and dark boots not doing nearly enough to combat the chill in the air. Little Red, the bar where we played cards, was much beloved by the North American Central Pack. But it was old, dingy, and exceedingly cold.<\/p>\n

Tonight we were nearly alone, except for my aunt Berna, who stood behind the bar furtively\u2014or so she thought\u2014reading Twilight for the fourteenth time, and the wail of Robert Johnson on the jukebox across the room. But the sun had barely set. Soon enough, more of the city\u2019s shape-shifters would fill the bar with leather, magic, and muscle.<\/p>\n

I pulled the four of clubs from my hand and dropped it onto the first of three piles of cards on the table. Jeff glanced at it, then looked at me with calculation.<\/p>\n

\u201cProblem?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to lose again.\u201d He grinned. \u201cMy manly ego can\u2019t handle it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour manly ego doesn\u2019t care as long as I don\u2019t beat you at \u2018Jakob\u2019s Quest.\u2019 \u201d That was his favorite video game. He was a master at it, as he was with most things related to tech.<\/p>\n

\u201cTrue,\u201d he said. \u201cBut we\u2019re, what, twelve games to nine now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwelve to eight,\u201d I said, biting back a smile. And he wouldn\u2019t make it to nine, given the cards in my hand. \u201cBut nice try.\u201d<\/p>\n

He snorted, picked up the four, and stuffed it into his deck, then debated which card to give up. If he was picking up a four\u2014a basically useless card\u2014he must not have many options.<\/p>\n

Jeff made his decision, dropping a three onto the table. It was a good choice; threes were even more useless than fours. But it still wouldn\u2019t be enough.<\/p>\n

And now, I thought, it\u2019s time to pull the trigger and put him out of his misery.<\/p>\n

I slid a card from my hand, and placed it on the middle of the three piles with a snap of its corner.<\/p>\n

\u201cI call the crown,\u201d I said with a grin, the ace of diamonds shining victoriously.<\/p>\n

Shock flashed in his eyes; he hadn\u2019t known I held the ace\u2014much less the ace of diamonds, the penultimate card in Call the Crown, a favorite game of the NAC.<\/p>\n

Jeff looked up at me again, smile blooming. \u201cI was sure that thing was in the handmaiden deck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was. I pulled it in the third round.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes brightened with amusement. He had such an innocently handsome face, but it belied his strength and passion. Like me, he was fiercely loyal to the Pack.<\/p>\n

I was Fallon, the only daughter in the Keene family. Gabriel, the oldest, was Apex of the Pack. I was second oldest, and I was followed in age (and alphabet, because my mother had had a weird sense of humor) by Eli, Derek, Christopher, and Ben. Adam had once been the baby, but he\u2019d betrayed Gabriel, the family, and the Pack. He was no longer a Keene.<\/p>\n

If anything happened to Gabriel, I was next in line for the crown. That made me the first possible female Apex in the history of the North American Central. Technically, Gabriel\u2019s son, Connor, was the heir apparent. But he wasn\u2019t even a year old yet, and control of the Pack couldn\u2019t pass to an infant. For now, that made me the runner up.<\/p>\n

It also made me the biggest shape-shifting prize in the country.<\/p>\n

I put the rest of my cards on the table and gathered up my winnings. The tabletop, one of ten or fifteen around us, was etched with time and sticky with decades of beer and whiskey. It took two passes to collect the quarters we\u2019d anted.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that makes thirteen,\u201d I said, sliding them into my jacket pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m pretty sure I\u2019ve won nine,\u201d Jeff said with a smile, pulling the rest of the cards into a tidy deck. \u201cWe\u2019re still close. Nearly evenly matched.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d meant the cards\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. and us.\u00a0 The game in which we\u2019d both been pawns. My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said, reaching over and putting a hand over mine. He must have sensed my dismay.<\/p>\n

The contact sent a jolt of magic and emotion through my body, that sense of belonging and familiarity that Jeff Christopher triggered with every touch and heartrending smile.<\/p>\n

But he wasn\u2019t for me. And that\u2019s what it all came down to.<\/p>\n

I pulled back my hand, glanced at my watch. \u201cNo worries. But I should be going.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tried for a smile, but it wasn\u2019t convincing. \u201cAre you going to turn into a pumpkin?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to meet someone,\u201d I said, and those few words were enough to make the cheer in his eyes fade away.<\/p>\n

His doubt only lasted a moment; his eyes steeled with determination, and he settled them on me. \u201cSomeone?\u201d he asked, but he didn\u2019t wait for me to answer. \u201cA potential mate, you mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Pack believed every Apex needed a companion, a man or woman strong enough to help the Apex hold the Pack. Since I could one day be that Apex, it fell to my family to identify potential mates. A doomsday plan in dating form.<\/p>\n

Brains and brawn were popular traits, but they weren\u2019t the only qualifications. Each family of shape-shifters took a specific animal form. The Keenes were wolves, the same form as the first known shape-shifters, Romulus and Remus, and thus the most prestigious. Wolves were the First Animals of the First Pack.<\/p>\n

The shifting was magical, but the form was all about genetics. And that\u2019s what it really<\/i> came down to.<\/p>\n

Jeff Christopher, brilliant and charming, was a beautiful and powerful animal: sleek fur; wide, predatory eyes; heavy paws; long, swishing tail.<\/p>\n

Jeff was a tiger.<\/p>\n

Pack protocol\u2014Pack tradition\u2014said shifters who transformed into different animals shouldn\u2019t be together. Sure, some people ignored the rules. But those people weren\u2019t members of the Apex\u2019s family, and they certainly weren\u2019t second in line to the throne.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have the luxury of rebellion.<\/p>\n

Gabe and Jeff had been friends for some time. I\u2019d met him a few months ago.\u00a0 Gabe trusted and respected Jeff, who worked with Chuck Merit, a former cop who\u2019d been hired by a former mayor to help supernaturals in Chicago. Chuck Merit\u2019s agency\u00a0 was no longer official, but Jeff and his sorcerer colleague, Catcher Bell, still volunteered to solve supernatural dilemmas.<\/p>\n

Gabe hadn\u2019t stopped our friendship or complained about the time we spent together, believing we\u2019d drift apart eventually. And as each season passed, the number of potentials Gabe trotted in front of me increased. Jeff was good people. But there were rules.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe price of Jeff Christopher is too high,\u201d Gabriel was fond of saying. \u201cYou cannot have him and the Pack both.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeff knew about the tradition; every shape-shifter did. I think he\u2019d hoped Gabriel would change his mind, or the Pack would. That hadn\u2019t happened.\u00a0 But cold, hard facts hadn\u2019t done anything to diminish the fiery spark between us.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t go,\u201d he said, slipping from his chair across the table to the one beside mine. His unique scent moved with him\u2014the deep and heady aromas of jungle and his warm and velvety cologne. So did his magic. It was usually bright and almost cheerful, shining like ripples of sunlight across water. But the mood had darkened, and so had his magic, the power that electrified the air like the moment before a storm.<\/p>\n

He touched my hand again, sending a shock of magic up my spine. I fought hard against the promise of it. Our relationship hadn\u2019t been exactly platonic, but there were lines we hadn\u2019t crossed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a Keene,\u201d I reminded him\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. and myself. \u201cIt\u2019s tradition. It\u2019s part of the Pack, part of who we are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a lame tradition. And I\u2019ll tell that to Gabe\u2019s face.\u201d His expression was fierce, but I knew better. Jeff Christopher was as loyal as they came.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the right thing to do,\u201d I said, but even I could hear the quiet whisper of doubt in my voice.<\/p>\n

He reached up to brush a lock of my wavy hair behind my ear. \u201cYou\u2019re not just a Keene. You\u2019re allowed to be Fallon, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Magic blossomed between us, an invisible arc that enveloped us both, sending goose bumps along my arms.<\/p>\n

I swallowed down a bolt of lust. I pushed down the obvious interest from the wolf that prowled inside me, felt her keen disappointment when I stood up and pushed back my chair, which squealed in protest against the sticky and stained linoleum floor. The wolf didn\u2019t care about Jeff Christopher\u2019s form. That he was magic\u2014ferocious and male\u2014was enough for her.<\/p>\n

There was no denying Jeff Christopher and I had good magic. But magic didn\u2019t win every battle. Sometimes family had to win, because it was the only victory a girl could afford.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re counting on me,\u201d I said, avoiding his eyes, afraid he\u2019d see my doubts, even though I\u2019d pushed them as far down into my gut as possible. \u201cAnd you know the other option.\u201d<\/p>\n

Abdication. I could have Jeff Christopher if I gave up my claim to the Pack, my spot in the line of succession. But I\u2019d also be giving up my family, rejecting the training and education I\u2019d received as a potential Apex.<\/p>\n

I cared about Jeff, but he wasn\u2019t for me. We weren\u2019t for each other. It might have been one of the great tragedies of my universe, but that didn\u2019t make it any less true.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne of these days I\u2019m going to start taking your rejections personally.\u201d Jeff\u2019s voice was confident, but there was pain in his eyes. Still, he put up a good front. \u201cToday\u2019s not that day. I\u2019ll see you, Fallon.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice drew my gaze back, and the promise in his eyes was unmistakable.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you,\u201d he said again, his guarantee. . . .<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0Order HOWLING FOR YOU from\u00a0Amazon<\/a>,\u00a0Barnes & Noble<\/a>,\u00a0iBooks<\/a>, or\u00a0Kobo<\/a>!
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

Note: \u00a0I am an Amazon affiliate and may earn a commission if you\u00a0buy goods\u00a0at\u00a0Amazon through\u00a0one of my links.<\/em><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Chicago, Illinois Tension and magic filled the air like invisible smoke, swirling around us with the weight of ancient mysteries. We stared at each other across the small table like foes across a battlefield, weapons honed and at the ready. But we weren\u2019t enemies. We just weren\u2019t anything else, either, exactly. \u201cAre you going to[…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":3211,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-3792","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3792","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3792"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3792\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7559,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3792\/revisions\/7559"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3211"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3792"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}