Ascension: Wolves of Goose Creek

Chapter One

"For crap sake, Still. Please do as I ask for once," my producer George pleaded with me. "You should trust me to know what's best for the show. Is that too much to ask?"

I leaned back in the makeup chair I was sitting in and swallowed the urge to bite his face off. The mental image of my wolf spitting out chunks of George's Botox-saturated skin popped into my head. I couldn't help but laugh.

George, of course, thought I was laughing at his never-ending pleas for compliance. "You know what, Still? Screw you, all right. There will be network representatives from Atlantic Broadcasting Stations in the control room tonight. They're interested in the show as a whole, which, in case you've forgotten, is more than just the pair of tits in front of the camera. Could you think about someone other than yourself for a change?"

I cracked one kohl-rimmed eye and waved away the makeup brush that was headed towards my face. My jaw dropped, but I held back the rant that was building and instead took a moment to compose myself before I sat up.

"One," I hissed as I held a finger in the air, "I am thinking about someone other than myself. I'm thinking about my viewers. There is no way in hell I'm going out there in front of a camera and telling them to spend sixteen bucks on a ticket to some crappy 3D gorefest because the media's new golden boy directed it."

George's head swiveled so fast I thought it was going to pop off as he promptly rolled his eyes and proceeded to suck his teeth at me. No the hell he didn't just roll his eyes at me like some prissy, teenage prima donna. I stood up and tilted my head, cracking my neck. The makeup girl jumped and scooted as far away from me as she could.

George knew that move all too well. He took a step back and threw both hands in the air. "Now, wait a minute, Still. We can talk about this like two rational adults."

I laughed again. This time it was at him. George had no reason to be scared of me, but if he knew what I was, he probably would be. He was just trying to avoid one of my infamous tirades. Sorry, he wasn't going to be so lucky. I let a little of my wolf bleed into the forefront of my mind and took a breath.

"Furthermore, like I give a flying fuck about that network. Look at how the executives are running their shows into the ground. They need to stop trying to cater to numbers and listen to the viewers." I grabbed the magazine I was reading and shook it in his face. "Do you see this? Dark Passages is in danger of being canceled. So what if the ratings weren't stellar? It's a quality show that is steadily building its audience."

I tossed the magazine back into the chair. "If they intend to run our show the way that they run Dark Passages, I'd rather stay on our little local television station. Our audience is big enough, and since we've started streaming, our viewership has increased fifteen percent. Not to mention that interactions on all of our social media accounts are looking damn good, so they can go fuck themselves. And if you have a problem telling them what I said, I'm more than willing to march up there and do it for you."

"Still, we don't dictate what shows are canceled or renewed. Our job is to give them the show they ask for and try our best to make sure it's good enough to draw viewers. And you can't compare our show to Dark Passages. We're not a scripted drama." George dropped his hands and sighed. "Please, Still, I'm begging you. Just read the review, and by this time next week, we'll all be sitting on a bigger, flashier new set with nice, fat paychecks to match."

I wasn't a sellout, but the thought of more money was enticing. I snatched the paper from George's hand and shot him a skeptical look before giving the review a quick once over.

"You have got to be kidding me! Five stars?! I have never given a film five stars. My viewers know that. Everyone is waiting for my first one. That's part of the fun of my show."