The Prodigal Wolf (completed)

The Book of Aure (excerpt)

Heyo!

Sorry this isn't the Kelsey+Ben prequel I promised, that will come...someday...or another...look people, you can't make demands of the creative process, that's how writer's blocks happen, I learned that lesson the hard way (*sobs*).

Buuuuuuuuuuuut, I do have a little excerpt of the next book, "the Book of Aure," which was the original inspiration for this entire fantasy series. I have written it about five entire times as well--piece of advice, you can't make up a story as you go, not if that story is suppose to lay the ground work for a larger fantasy world and series, it just doesn't work--before I just got so frustrated and annoyed I needed to leave it alone completely. So I decided to write "The Prodigal Wolf," plotted somethings out, learned some crap in university, did a lot of research, and have finally returned to it. Sixth try's the charm, right?

I know, I am horrible with false starts.

But as character profiles, prehistory and plot lines have all been nailed down, and as I'm sure I have enough chapters prewritten, I feel confidant sharing a bit with you guys. You know, a nice little nibble to intrigue your appetite. Hopefully that will get more of y'all interested in the main course that I'm getting ready to serve up.

See what I did there?

Shy.B

~*~

As Aure peered in through the restaurant's window she wondered once more if she should call the whole thing off, turn around and indulge in the ice cream shop a block away to fill the time she would have spent anxiously binge eating the breadsticks to avoid the first date small talk.

However a loud beep from Meiri, who was still in the idling car waiting for her friend to go inside and meet the possible love of her life (as Meiri put it earlier), ended that train of thought. After spending most of the afternoon choosing Aure's attire, nitpicking at her make up and even doing her hair, Meiri would never let Aure hear the end of it if all her effort was for naught. "You got this girl!" Meiri called encouragingly through the car window with a flash of a smile and two thumbs up.

Aure nodded unconvincingly as she trudged through the door, into the warmth of the restaurant and away from her embarrassing best friend. As the hostess led her to the table, Aure nervously chewed on her lip and thanked the Mother that her date hadn't arrived yet, allowing her to choose the chair facing the door and quickly order a drink to calm her nerves. When she was properly situated (cardigan draped over the back of her chair, reflection checked for any stray lipstick, a quick breath mint and a little squirt of hand sanitizer) Aure peered at the sleek screen of her phone as her fingers lithely pulled up Tinder.

Avi was six feet, two inches, worked at an animal shelter as the in house veterinarian, and volunteered as a reading buddy for underprivileged children on the weekend; on paper—-er—screen—-Avi was perfect. But when your favorite show is MTV's Catfish, like Aure's, you know every online profile isn't always what it seems. Internet identities and false advertisement went hand in hand in this new digital age. Aure had already copy and pasted Avi's dimpled face into Google's image search engine, and everything checked out okay, except from a seriously suspicious stock modeling phase, Avi seemed to be exactly who he said. Of course Aure still thoroughly investigated his Facebook profile five times this day alone, and could now recite the names of all three of his aunts names, their children (four of which were in universities at Charleston, Louisville and Upstate New York respectively), both uncles, all four grandparents and their pets as well.

As a result, as soon as Avi walked through the door, Aure recognized him immediately and he seemed much taller than six feet two. Granted Aure was only five one herself, so anything over 5'7 seemed like an ancient, looming sycamore tree in comparison to herself, however this Avi guy was a complete a skyscraper. Aure's neck ached even trying to imagine kissing him. A stool of some sort would need to be involved.