Hannah

I’ve always been in tune with supernatural things, much to the dismay of my Aunt Julie and Uncle Greg.  I can’t blame them, they always wanted a normal life for me, but that just isn’t in the cards for me.  I guess I always knew there was something different about me I just didn’t realize that my experiences weren’t the status quo.  The feelings, the visions, my ability to sniff out and thrust myself into dangerous situations without a second thought has always just been my normal.  Therefore, I am constantly on the move.  Always a good idea to disappear when you have, for a lack of a better term, a superpower.  My spirit guide always tells me that I have to “haul ass before the bad guys try to exploit you and the good guys come to depend on you”.  Uncle Greg says I am a nomad, always traveling, never in one place for long.  When I get the itch to just get in the car and drive; I go.  I always felt at peace when I was driv

I make my way into the lobby of the next motel I see.  Like so many times before, there is a nagging feeling that is telling me to stay.  I ring the bell on the desk and a young woman of about 18 comes out of the office behind the desk.“Hello, ma’am, Staying for the night?”  she asks.  With her best customer service smile. “You have any rooms available for a week?”  I ask.  Why not, something compelled me to stay here so I might as well take my time figuring it out. “Sure thing, what brings you to our quaint little town?”, she asks.  I get the feeling that people don’t just up and decide to stay for a week. “Not really sure.”  I smile back at her.  “There is definitely something comforting about a cozy little town isn’t there?” I tell her.  A nod, then a pause, like she is listening to something.  That was

Exasperated, he dismisses me, and I leave without argument.  I promised Sherry I would take a shift at the bar, and I have an hour before I have to be there.  Situated on the remote end of a plot of land belonging to the pack for more than a century sits a large three-story contemporary mansion.  The pack house is modern, and has all the bells and whistles, conference rooms, office space, 17 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, a fancy security system, full kitchen, the works. West of the house is a path that leads to the previous pack house.  Its older, and doesn’t have a complete gym for training, but it does have running water and electricity.  It was my home, the only place I ever knew, and it’s where my mother is still present.  Everything in this house belonged to her.  A three-bedroom farmhouse with a wrap around porch.  My mom loved the country style of decor, and its functionality.  She made everyone feel at home here,

It's a slow night at Sherry's. The last customers left about an hour ago and Joe has been huffing and puffing in the kitchen. He's taking extra care to make as much noise chopping extra prep items for tomorrow. By the smell of it we have enough onions to last the next month. I don’t know what has gotten into him lately, but it seems like he does everything he can to be obnoxious to get Sherry’s attention in an effort to go home. I’ve talked to her about switching him to days, but she says that the daytime cook is a single dad and doesn’t have anybody to watch his kids at night. Joe's usually pretty chipper till about nine o’clock. That’s when he turns into the grouch, we all know and love. The one that takes his time picking the strongest smelling onions to chop up loudly and throw pans in the storage area. Sherry walks out of the office and looks at me with a questioning look. I shrug my shoulders and go back to washing the beer mugs. It’s 11:30 when Sherry asks, “Ya’ll rea

I want her. Badly. I don’t just want a midnight romp though. I never want to have a day that I don’t see her beautiful face. I want to know what it is about her that makes people feel at ease when she is around. The minute she walked in that door everything changed. Not only for me, she is my mate, so that is a given. I suppose part of me knows that there is a tether between us that I won’t be able to resist, but Joe leaving the kitchen when someone has come in. He wouldn’t normally do that. He prides himself of his work ethic. Not a big deal though. We all have our off days, so I didn’t think anything of it. Sherry leaving me to close the bar without her I didn’t see coming, but the real kicker was Frank and Josh. Those two crotchety old bastards don’t care about anything but their lawn, their wallets and closing Sherry’s Bar. For one, they are frequent customers here and they know the price of a beer. They wouldn’t fall for what she pulled with the daytime bar tender L