Walking home after a night out drowning her sorrows with her best friend, Carrie, Alexandra Jones stupidly takes a phone call from her cheating ex-boyfriend, Eddie, and in her anger hurls her phone into the forest before her.
But when Alex goes to retrieve her phone from the undergrowth, she and Carrie come face-to-face with a monster they never even knew existed, a Vârcolac (a nightmarish vampire-werewolf hybrid) and he's in search of fresh blood. The next thing Alex knows, she is staring at the impossibly handsome but mysterious Nathan who has helped bring her back to life, but not to the life she left.
To her horror, she discovers she has now become a blood-drinking Vârcolac herself and she is the only female of her kind, with the potential for breeding a whole new army of Vârcolacs if they can only track her down and press her into service.
And while Alex gets to know Nathan and his shape-shifting family as they offer her the protection she so desperately needs, unbeknown to all of them, the Vârcolacs are getting closer …
First Bitten Excerpt
Chapter 1
The End of Me
“Arggh! Just leave me alone, Eddie! I can’t believe a word
that comes out of your mouth! You’re a lying, cheating ... scumbag and I don’t
ever want to speak to, or see you, ever again, you … you wanker!” I disconnect
the call and angrily loft my mobile toward the mass of trees standing tall
before me.
Turning sharply, I catch my heel in a crack in the paving.
“Shit!” I cry out as I fall backwards, losing my shoe in the process. I land
hard my bum. “Oww!”
“You alright?” Carrie gets up from the bench she was sitting
on and drunkenly totters over to me. I can tell she’s trying not to laugh, the
grin she’s not so gallantly suppressing saying it all.
“No,” I grumble. Tears sting my eyes. I take a deep breath
and force them back.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
A giggle escapes Carrie as she plonks herself down on the
concrete floor beside me.
I glare at her.
“Sorry, babe.” She throws her arm around my shoulder,
hugging me to her. “Eddie is a complete twat. Twat with a capital T. And you,
my gorgeous friend, are far too good for him, always have been. You deserve so
much better than him.” She twists a lock of my hair around her finger, tugging
on it good-naturedly. “You know I’m right. I’ve said this to you a million times
before. You’re far too good to waste your life on a ... twatting wanker like
him.”
Through my misery, I glance sideways at her. “Twatting
wanker?”
She grins mischievously, her green eyes sparkling, and I
can’t help but laugh. Carrie always manages to make me laugh, even when I’m at
my lowest, which is where I am right now, literally.
I lean forward, releasing myself from Carrie’s caring hold
and pick my shoe up. “Ahh no, I’ve scuffed the heel!” I groan as I inspect it.
“My beautiful, two month old Jimmy Choos and they’re bloody ruined! These were
my treat from my bonus.” That dismal feelings seeps back into me.
“Here, let me have a look.” Carrie takes the shoe from my
hand and puts it close to her face, examining it. “It’s not that bad,” she says
dismissively, handing it back to me. “It’ll glue back down.”
I turn and look at her with disgust. “Glue! I’m not gluing a
pair of Jimmy Choos. Bloody hell, Carrie, that’s sacrilegious!” I clutch the
shoe to my chest. “Arggh! This is all Eddie’s fault. I bloody hate him, the
bastard!”
Well I don’t hate him, yet, but I will very soon, I’m sure
of it. I’m just currently stuck in the ‘I should hate him’ phase, but
struggling to because I still love him.
Eddie, my lying, cheating, scumbag, arsehole of a boyfriend,
or, as I should now say, ex-boyfriend. Eddie, the cheating bastard, whom I’ve
wasted three years of my life on.
That all too familiar pain stabs straight into my heart.
Tears swell my eyes again. I run my fingers under them to catch the tears
before they fall. The last thing I need right now is mascara-stained cheeks.
I found out about Eddie’s extra-curricular activities
yesterday morning while we were eating breakfast together. I’d received a text
from his slutty new squeeze the night before, but only realised I had a message
that morning. Accompanying said text was a very graphic photo of Eddie in a
‘compromising’ position for added effect. Classy, I know. Really I should have
learnt my lesson from the last time.
It will never happen again, Alex, I swear to you ... I love
you ... I’m so sorry ... I can’t live without you ... I made a terrible, stupid
mistake ...
But really it was me who made the mistake when I believed he
wouldn’t do it again.
So, after chucking my breakfast at him, coffee included and
a few other choice items, I headed to our bedroom, called Carrie and asked her
to come and pick me up. I packed my bags, ignoring Eddie’s pathetic pleas for
me to stay, while I waited the twenty minutes it took Carrie to drive from her
parents’ house in Hackness, where she still lives, to my house in Scarborough.
When she arrived, honking her horn, I rushed out the front
door in a flurry of tears, threw my bags in the car boot and didn’t look back,
even though I knew Eddie was standing in the doorway watching me leave.
Carrie and I have been best friends for fifteen years. The
first time I met her was on introductory day at our old senior school,
Scarborough High, and I just knew I’d know her my whole life. She was all fiery
red curly hair and braces, but as confident as hell. Smart, vivacious and
sassy, she takes no shit, unlike me. She’s all the parts I’m missing, my other
half really and that’s when I knew I’d met my soul mate. Carrie is always there
for me, no matter what, and vice-versa.
Both my parents were killed in a road accident when I was
sixteen, a drunk driver overtaking them on a country road with an upcoming
bend, an oncoming car; there were no survivors.
I fell apart and Carrie put me back together. Legally an
adult, I had absolutely no clue how to take care of myself, let alone do things
adults have to take care of. That’s when Carrie’s family became mine. Her
parents, Angie and Tom, stepped in and sorted everything for me. They took me
into their huge home and spoilt me like I was one of their own, which now, nine
years later, I still am.
Carrie’s been on hand with Kleenex and Ben and Jerry’s for
all my boyfriend disasters, well mainly Eddie the boyfriend disaster from hell.
She sat patiently with me yesterday while I cried the whole day and night away.
Then, when I woke up this morning feeling very angry, Carrie suggested we
should get dressed up and go out to the only pub in Hackness tonight, The
Grange, and get drunk.
I was completely on board with the idea - anything to numb
the pain - but then the pain was still there when they were calling last orders
at the bar and I didn’t want to wait the forty minutes it would take for the
taxi to arrive, so we decided to walk home, which we’ve done hundreds of times
before. It takes about half an hour and, to be honest, it’s not the nicest of
walks, even in the daylight. It’s all country roads and forests but it’s also
as safe as houses around here. The last time there was a crime here was – well
never.
All I wanted to do was get home as fast as possible and continue
on drinking myself into oblivion, well, just until I passed out. And I was well
on my way to achieving that goal until I, for some ungodly reason, made the
fatal error of answering Eddie’s call. And here I am, right back to square one.
I’ve let Eddie and his lies into my head again. This is what happens when I
drink; I lose all common sense. Or is it just when it comes to Eddie that I
lose my common sense?
I drop my heavy head into my hands. “I’m such an idiot,
Care.”
“No you’re not. Eddie’s the idiot.” She rubs a soothing hand
on my back. I glance up at her. “He just doesn’t seem to realise when he’s got
a great thing,” she affirms. “The guy’s a loser. L-O-S-E-R.” She spells the
word out for dramatic effect, putting her thumb and forefinger into the L shape
and resting it against her forehead.
Yep, she’s definitely drunk – she’d never do that sober. I
giggle through my haze of tears and make a mental note to remind her of that in
the morning so I can take the piss.
“You were the best thing that ever happened to him,” she
adds sincerely, taking hold of my hand and patting it with her other. “He’ll
know this soon enough when you’re not there taking care of him anymore.”
I stare into the black dense forest before me. “Mmm … ”
She grabs hold of my shoulder, forcing me round to look at
her. “Alex, please tell me you’re not actually considering going back to him.
You know he’ll do it again.”
“No I’m not,” I say, sounding way too defensive.
“Alex … ” She arches her eyebrow at me in that knowing way
she does. She knows me better than anyone.
“No,” I repeat, my voice quieter now, “I’m not going back. I
promise. But it’s hard. I can’t just stop loving him in a day. We’ve been
together for three years. We have a home together. Okay, so it’s his house and
the mortgage is still in his name, but we have other stuff together, like …
like ... CDs and DVDs ... and well, other stuff.”
Actually now that I think about it, after three years
together we really don’t have a lot to show for our relationship, except for a
lot of broken promises and betrayals.
“I know it’s hard, Alex, but Eddie didn’t care about the
last three years when he was messing around behind your back. Just keep
reminding yourself of what he’s done to you, twice, now. It’ll get easier,
babe, I promise, and you know I’m here for you, no matter what. I’ve always got
your back.”
“I know.” I look gratefully at her. “Ditto.”
“Anyway, I was thinking we should get my dad to sack him,”
she says out of the blue, very nonchalantly.
Eddie works for Tom. He’s a sales manager at Tom’s car
dealership in Scarborough. Tom has ten altogether across the region. That’s how
I met Eddie. It was at the dealership's annual Christmas party three years ago.
He was so handsome, smart and funny, and I was hooked from the word go. Little
did I know.
I shake my head, tempting as it is, and say, “No, Care, we
can’t ask Tom to do that. It’d be wrong to put him in that position.”
“He’d do it for you though.” She nudges my shoulder with
hers. “You know he would. He loves you to death.”
I turn and give her a firm look. “I know, and that’s why I
won’t ask him ... and neither will you.”
She grins wickedly and winks. “No promises.”
“Care … !” I warn.
“Okay, okay.” She rolls her eyes. “Whatever you want. Is
twat-face Eddie at work tomorrow?”
I scrunch my nose up in thought. “What day is it?”
“Er … ” she pulls her mobile out of her bag and lights the
screen up, checking the date and time, “it’s Saturday now.”
“He’s not back in work till Monday.”
“Okay, well I’ll go round to your house on Monday while he’s
at work and pick up the rest of your stuff, if you want? Get you out of there
and moved back home properly. Start as you mean to go on.”
“Would you mind?” I look hopefully at her. The last thing I
want to do is go back to the house. I’m worried if I do, I might end up never
leaving.
“Wouldn’t offer if I did.” She smiles warmly and gets to her
feet. “Come on, let’s go home.” She holds her hand out to me.
I take a lingering, woeful glance at my shoe and slip it
back on my foot. Eddie the bastard, he’s ruined my life, and now my beautiful
shoes.
I take Carrie’s hand and get unsteadily to my feet. I wrap
my arm around her waist, resting my head onto her shoulder. “Thanks, Care,” I
mumble into her red hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you,
you know.”
“You’d do fine,” she says, “and I love you too. Now come on,
you soppy git, let’s get you home.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and we
start to walk on, supporting each other.
“Ahh shit!” I sigh dramatically, coming to a halt.
“What?”
“I chucked my phone in there.” I gesture dramatically toward
the forest laid out to the side of us. “My whole life is on that phone,” I
whine. “I can’t lose it.”
Bloody Eddie. He doesn’t even have to be here and he causes
me problems. Maybe it’s the essence of him that’s still lingering over me,
continuing to make my life shit.
I walk over to the edge of the pavement, teetering between
it and the slope down into woodland.
“Whereabouts did you throw it?” Carrie asks, following me
over and standing beside me.
“I dunno.” I shrug. “Around there ... somewhere.” I point at
the bracken.
Carrie peers forward. “Well, it can’t have landed that far
away. You’re not that good a thrower. I remember your weak arm from netball at
school.” She nudges me with her shoulder, grinning. “Tell you what, I’ll ring
your phone and we’ll follow the sound to it.”
“Good thinking Batman.” I nudge her back.
“Er, more like Catwoman, if you don’t mind,” she says
dramatically, sweeping a hand down herself. “Does this body look in any way
masculine to you?”
“Shut up and get your bloody phone out, will you.” I laugh.
She smirks and gets her mobile out of her bag again. It
takes her a good minute to dial my number, which I know for a fact, she has on
speed dial. She really is drunk.
“It’s ringing,” she sings, phone clamped to her ear.
I immediately hear my phone start to blast out Adele’s
‘Someone Like You’. I changed it to that ring tone yesterday. Okay, I know I’m
being maudlin, but it’s not every day you find out your boyfriend’s been
cheating on you. Well, okay, for me it’s the second time in a year, but that’s
not the point.
Carrie pulls the phone away from her ear and leaves it
ringing in her hand. Holding hands, we both clumsily make our way down the
incline into the woods as we begin our search, following the sound of the music
into the trees.
“I can’t see it anywhere,” Carrie says looking around.
“Mind, I can hardly see shite-all in here. It's pitch black!”
I squint into the darkness. She’s right, it is pitch black.
Nerves creep over me. I quickly quash them. I need to find my phone.
The ringing stops. It must have diverted to answerphone.
“Ring it again, Care, will you.”
Adele resumes her singing. I can hear it clear over to my
right. Breaking away from Carrie, I head that way. The music’s getting louder.
I’m getting close. A few more steps and I spot it nestled in a bush, flashing
prettily away at me. Not a good thrower, eh, Carrie?
“Got it!” I cheer, staggering toward it. I lean down and
pluck it out of the prickly bush. I snag my hand on a prickle. “Ouch!” I suck
the wound on my hand and get an instant taste of metallic ... blood.
“You alright?” Carrie asks concerned, heading toward me.
“Yeah, fine. Just cut my hand on the bush. Nothing serious.
Got my phone, though.” I grin, waving it about.
“Good. Now can we get out here?”
“Yep, let’s go.” I make to move and get nowhere. I’m stuck
in some soft mud. “Bloody hell,” I grumble, looking down. “My heels are stuck
in the mud.”
“You and them feckin’ shoes!” Carrie laughs loudly. It
echoes all around. “Here.” She holds her hands out for me to take. “I’ll pull
you out.”
I take hold of her hands. She starts to pull me forward
while I try to wriggle my shoes free from the sticky mud. I get one free, step
forward and suddenly the other comes free. I fall forward onto Carrie.
“Bloody hell!” she chuckles, somehow keeping us both up. I
have no clue how she’s managing to stay vertical.
I glance down at my shoes. They’re all covered in mud. “Ahh
crap!” I groan, lifting my feet up in turn. “I’ve knackered the heel and
covered them in mud in the space of five minutes. I bloody love these shoes as
well.” My lips turn down at the corners.
“Really, I would never have guessed,” she skits.
“Piss off,” I mutter in a light-hearted tone, but inside the
gloom has clamped itself steadfastly around my heart.
She grins at me in the darkness and links her arm through
mine. “We’ll clean them up when we get home.”
“I don’t think anything is gonna save these babies now, well
nothing short of a miracle.”
“Come on, drama queen. We’ll pray for their salvation on the
way home.”
“Ha, ha, funny! You ever thought about becoming a comedi–”
“Wait.” She grips hold of my arm with her fingers. “Did you
hear that?”
“What, the sound of my heart breaking for the second time in
two days?” I glance down longingly at my ruined shoes.
“No ... that.”
I strain to listen. “I can’t hear anything.” Now I think
about it, it’s actually eerily silent in here. No rustling leaves, no animal
sounds. Nothing.
I start to move, but Carrie stays put, pulling me back to a
standstill. “No seriously,” she whispers, “I definitely heard something ... it
was like, I dunno, like ... someone’s chopping wood or something.”
“Shurrup, Carrie, you div,” I say at normal volume,
laughing. “Who the hell would be out here at this time chopping … ?” Then I
hear it. It’s not loud but Carrie’s wrong, it doesn’t sound like wood being
chopped, it sounds more like something’s being sharpened on wood, kind of like
when our cat used to run its claws down the doorframe.
“You hear it,” she whispers.
“Yes,” I breathe out. The hairs on the back of my neck
prickle. I hear movement behind me. My stomach drops hollow. Swallowing hard, I
loosen my arm from Carrie’s grip and we both, very slowly, turn around.
It’s standing about ten feet away. Its yellow eyes are
protruding like beacons in the dark night, and they’re fixed onto me.
It’s obvious why it’s here. You would think I would have
tried to make a run for it by now or screamed, or done something. I don’t know
why I haven’t. All I do know is I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from its
penetrating stare. It tilts its head, almost as if contemplating me, chilling
me to the bone.
Then I feel Carrie’s hand search for mine. She grabs hold,
interlocking our fingers. I can feel her fear almost like it’s pouring out of
her skin and sinking straight into mine. A silent communication passes between
us, and in the same instant we both turn and run.
I don’t get far.
I’m hit in the back. The air is knocked out of me. I’m going
down. I’m pinned to the floor. I can’t move. My face is pressed into the mud. I
can’t catch a breath. I’m suffocating. I feel a searing pain tear down my right
side. I cry out but no sound comes. I manage to move my head slightly. I get a
glimpse of Carrie’s red hair. The pain intensifies. I feel like I’m being
ripped open...
The last thing I hear is screaming. An ear-piercing scream.
And I can’t tell if it’s coming from Carrie or me.
Samantha Towle lives in Yorkshire with her husband Craig, children Riley and Isabella, dog Max and cat Murphy.
The youngest of four daughters, she loves music - all music - and dreams of a day when …. now that's another story.
Posts
.jpg)
