Werewolves of Chicago: Howard

By: Faleena Hopkins

Werewolves of Chicago: Howard


The Underdog





DESCRIPTION





An action-packed tale of courage, good vs. evil, and leaps of faith in yourself transforming you into who you really are.

What kind of a werewolf is named Howard? Yeah, I get asked that a lot. The kind suffocated in his youth, who wasn’t taught how to be a man…or a wolf.But then I met Curragh, Xavier and Draik, and they made me prove myself. Something happened. When I helped save their lives less than two months ago as we faced the vicious and evil Viktor Kruglov, I changed. Filled out. Hardened on the outside. My strength, sense of smell, hearing and night-vision are becoming extraordinary. But Alexander Kruglov is still out there so when I meet the unusual girl with the blue hair, and an insane chain of events unfolds, all I want to do is to learn how to harness these powers and use them to protect what's mine…HER. Even if who my friends think she needs protecting from is me.





If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.

Thomas A. Edison





Prologue





In the caverns below Chicago, forgotten by man and time until very recently, a dark figure prowls on four legs, green eyes glowing hot. Snarling, he sniffs dried bloodstains left behind in several rooms, eyeing the empty hangers and familiar places where his family’s expensive furniture used to rest. The fur along his back rises more sharply with each step and new discovery as he plots his vengeance. They will pay with their lives, he silently vows as he vanishes once more into the shadows.





1





Alisa





“I thought you were going out tonight,” I whisper, so the douchie hipster doesn’t hear me. “Why’d he just take his shoes off?”

Lynnie rolls her eyes and says, just as quietly, “It’s date three, so…”

“Ick,” I say on a blanche, my voice rising. “Who says three has to be the magic sex number?”

“Magic sex?” D. Hipster calls over with his eyebrows raised. He plops onto the couch in his skinny jeans, and grabs up a copy of Rolling Stone magazine from our garage sale coffee table. My best friend and roommate exchanges a glance with me. I hadn’t meant to say that so loudly, but in my disgust at the prospect of them going at it, I forgot we were whispering. My filter is almost non-existent—it’s always clear exactly how I feel about someone no matter how much she’s tried to train that out of me since Lynnie and I met in the fifth grade. I’ve gotten better, except when I really don’t like someone.

“I doubt it,” I mutter, referring to magic sex happening with him.

Lynnie smacks my arm and I stifle a smile. She gives me the once over. “You wearing that to work?”

Glancing down to my dark jeans and black shirt, I shrug, “Yeah, why not?”

She plucks at the fabric of my t-shirt. “You’re the first thing they see in the club. Hundreds of hot men go through that place every week. Try harder!” Throwing her hand on her hip, she adds, “You never know who you’re going to meet.”

Cocking a sarcastic eyebrow her way, I head for the kitchen and pour myself a quick glass of water as I inform my undiscerning friend, “There are not hundreds of hot guys in all of Chicago. And we get a lot of repeats anyway.” D. Hipster is still looking at the magazine patiently, completely tuning us out as only a guy who knows he’s going to get laid can do. “I won’t meet anyone special tonight, so why not be comfortable?”

“There are hundreds of hot men in this city!” Lynnie balks. “Be serious.”

“I am totally serious.”

“You’re totally picky, is what you are,” she tells me with a measured glare.

Glugging down the glass, I set it down by our sink and run both hands through my blue shaggy bob, smoothing the frizz out. “No argument there. I’m looking for amazing. And he’s not coming to that club, I can tell you that.”

“Alisa!” She nearly shouts with exaggerated authority as she points toward my bedroom. “Go put on that blue dress. Now.”

Throwing up my hands and laughing, I mutter, “Okay, okay, jeez. But we’re both wasting our time. I’m meant to be single. I just know it.”

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