Michele Lee

Just a note on Moon Madness, yes, I’m just over 50 words from hitting my word count goal. But I’ve also only written 47 chapters out of the 56 I have outlined.

This is a big deal for me though because 1) I don’t usually outline more than 5 chapters at a time and I had 12 chapters outlined on Monday. And 2) I’ve never had a first draft hit over 65k. This one might hit my general novel goal of 80k.

And because I’m sure you want more than writing metrics, have a free sample.

~

The following is an uncorrected preview. You can listen to the whole first chapter here.

The thing about Rick and Lydia is that they were never human. They grew up in werewolf families. Even if they had never changed they would have lived their lives in werewolf families, probably having werewolf kids, and the pack life was as natural to them as hiding from my mother in my room was to me.

They were good people, never doubt that. But there were some things they didn’t understand.

“We all feel the natural pull toward a pack, toward others of our own kind,” Lydia explained at our second meeting. The twins were taking a nap, and Rick, who owned a number of properties around town, was showing a house to prospective new renters. “The thought of being alone, without a pack, it’s not something most of us associate with any sort of positive emotion. Our wolf sides are incredibly social. Our human sides are incredibly social. The thought of being without a group, well, it’s not a thought. It’s a fear.”

I wasn’t afraid of it. I was afraid of these people, a little bit at least. I was afraid of blind loyalty, blind need. That’s human as well, as much as needing others of our kind is.

Lydia sat next to me on the couch, so we could speak quietly together. She reached out and touched my hand. I found it peaceful. There were no expectations, just concern, and she didn’t even really know me. “I understand if you’re nervous. You seem to be okay with the physical parts of shape shifting, which is a twist for us. Typically we all grow up knowing our parents’ packs, forming and testing out our own from a young age, playing dominance games as young as the twins. Usually we master the social long before we even face the physical aspects of the change. So I imagine if I take everything I felt when I realized I would live my life as a werewolf and turn it around into the social world being the shock, I think I can understand how you feel.”

“It was nice. I’ve never hated it.” I said, thinking of how I could describe it. “I always accepted it was part of me, but now… there are rules, and people who get to tell me what to do, and where to go. I have to ask permission to go into Chattanooga, or to visit my cousins in Atlanta.”

“And you don’t like the feeling that other people can run your life?” Lydia chuckled, not at me, at least, I didn’t think so. “Ah, darling I think you’re a natural dominant. Some people take comfort in knowing that someone will always be there to help them, to swoop in and tell them what to do to solve a problem. Some people need to be told what to do. And if that gets under your fur then there is absolutely nothing wrong with you rising to the dominant positions. But you need to know how to do that first.”

“I bet it has something to do with fighting.”

“Well, yes, usually. Not always, because it’s not only about who is the biggest, strongest wolf in the pack.” Lydia offered me a cookie. It looked like chocolate but smelled like mint. “But it’s safe to assume that fighting will be part of it. We don’t fight much in this pack. But in others… we’re not all good people, Nika. In some packs there’s a lot of fighting, bad fighting, and not always for the right reasons.”

“So what do I need to do to join this pack?”

Lydia smiled and chewed her own cookie bites. “It’s like a job. How did you get your job?”

“Bob, the guy who had it before me retired and recommended me as a replacement. I’d already worked at the paper for three years, summers mostly, so they hired me rather than trying to find someone else.”

“Okay, so maybe not quite like that.” She smiled. “First we’ll train you, teach you the basics that everyone else picks up in the years before, or right after their first change. Then we’ll sort of apprentice you, make you a part of the pack, but on parole. You can’t fight battles or rise in rank in that time, but if you screw up, unless it’s something big, it won’t be held against you either.”

“So what do I need to learn?” I asked.

Lydia laughed. “You want some paper so you can take notes? Let’s start with the rules.”

Rule One: Do not expose yourself, or anyone else to humans. We weren’t exactly hidden. But it was in our best interest to not let the normals know we were here, and we were real. Two hundred years ago we would have been burned as witches. A hundred years ago we would have been drugged into a life as madmen in asylums. Now, well, things are changing fast, but who wouldn’t feel threatened by someone who could become bigger, stronger, fast and heal like a comic book character? And who wouldn’t want to be one, even if their genes didn’t agree? What about power hungry world leaders, who could recruit whole secret armies of super soldier in the form of shape shifters? Or people who even now would still want to set us aflame as creatures of the unholy? To survive, stay secret.

Rule Two: Do not kill humans. It wasn’t sporting. It wasn’t fair. And furthermore it often violated rule one. To survive, preserve the uninitiated.

Rule Three: To betray your pack is death. Changing packs, or alphas was all allowed. Betrayal was something different. Exposing your pack mates to human examination. Not defending your pack should war break out between two sects. Killing a pack mate outside of a challenge circle. Killing a pack mate when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. To survive, defend your own.

Rule Four: Obey the chain of command. If you can’t obey one alpha, find another one that you can obey. Obey those above you in the pack hierarchy or replace them. To survive, obey.

Rule Five: Survive. It meant more than just as an individual, it meant as a species. You, survive, and make more werewolves to help the line survive.

What Lydia didn’t tell me, what I only found out later, was that other packs were like other worlds. And not all of them played by the same rules.