I’ve gotten great feedback on the first preview I sent out to you. It certainly warms this writer’s heart, which is great because I’m doubled up on blankets on my couch writing.

Winter is definitely here.

So, since you loved the little snippet of Sheriff Wolf’s Surrogate, I thought I’d send out another.

Here’s Chapter One!

Enjoy,

Growing up and becoming a man is hard enough on its own. It’s harder when you’re a werewolf in a strange land, where you don’t even speak the language. Michael had learned some Russian, of course. Bit by bit, but it was extremely challenging. After all, it had a whole other alphabet.

He missed France. There, most of the young people spoke English. He didn’t like to think about how much he missed the US. It wasn’t even the country itself that he missed; although he hated to admit it, he missed American food.

But what he missed the most was being a part of a big werewolf pack. At home in Washington, he’d been one of many, with plenty of friends who were all growing up with the same pressures and confusions as him. There were no werewolves in the city of Belgorod. That’s why they had picked it. His family needed a place with no paranormal entities at all, where they could be and stay safe.

Michael had thought that it was supposed to be temporary, but they’d been here for years now. He’d even finished up his home schooling, enrolled in college, and graduated. He was the proud holder of an engineering degree from one of the local institutes. At least, his mom was proud of him.

He didn’t really care. He felt as if he was wasting time, but he didn’t know what else he should be doing. He felt so different from everyone else in the pack. There were ten people in all, including him, which was actually quite small for a werewolf pack. It only felt big because they all lived in the same house. It was crowded, but the family spent most of their time out of doors, anyway.

This morning, Michael had wandered off by himself at the White Mask Festival, an annual art festival in the city. Everyone in the pack was either way older than him and already had a mate, or way younger than him. He was not a child anymore. He was a man, in his twenties, and he didn’t really have any reason to hang out with the little kids.

Loneliness pervaded his days, and that was a deadly feeling for a werewolf. He didn’t feel as if he belonged with his pack, although they loved him and treated him well.

At least the festival was interesting. He wished it happened more than once a year. Vendors lined up the city streets with delicious foods and handcrafted artwork; a lot of it traditional, but some more avant-garde stuff, as well. Michael had some money in his pocket from work, and he wanted to spend it on something at the festival, to support the local artists there.

He didn’t need to work. No one else in the pack had a day job. They survived off the shrewd investments of the family’s trust, as well as hunting, and gardening. He needed something to fill his days, though. Having a job gave him a reason to get out of the house. His mom supported his working, assuming it was because of the tremendous work ethic she’d instilled in him. Instead, he just wanted to escape his family for a few hours and pretend to be normal.

That was another reason he liked the festival. He could walk around among the humans and pretend to be normal. It let him feel a sense of belonging, even if it was only borrowed for a while.

He watched the flow of humans passing by. A small group of young children were making their way through the festival, laughing and shouting as they played and looked at the vendors. Michael smiled as he watched their frivolity. Then he looked at their teacher, and the smile fell off his face, replaced by a look of shock and rapture. His breath caught in his throat.

She was beautiful. He couldn’t believe how much that first look had affected him. As she knelt beside a child, speaking with him about a bruised knee, her soft brown hair fell into her face. She swiped it away, and Michael wanted to be the one to brush her hair out of her delicate face. She had Russian features, including the model-esque bone structure and stern mouth, but she also had a delicate little nose and deep, soulful, brown eyes. They sparkled in the wintry sunlight.

She looked up at him and caught his glance. He felt as if his heartbeat was beating harder than he’d ever felt before. He looked away, before it accelerated into a heart attack, or he weirded her out by staring for too long.

He tried to wander away, but he felt a magnetic pull back toward the schoolteacher. The kids were young, maybe kindergarten-age. He figured she must have the patience of a saint, to be taking care of so many at once. He tried to go back to looking at the vendors’ stalls, but he couldn’t. His eyes kept being drawn back to the teacher.

He wandered through the fair, following her and the kids. He felt weird about it, but he wondered if maybe he could introduce himself. He usually felt horribly awkward when he introduced himself in Russian, but she was young, so maybe she wouldn’t care as much if he messed up his pronoun formality and tenses?

She took the kids to a nearby park to play in a playground. He followed them, but he took his phone out and started texting a friend so he didn’t look like a total creep. He sat on a bench across the park from the teacher. He kept his eyes on his phone, even though he could feel the presence of the beautiful woman not that far away from him. It was a strange sensation, like being near a fire place. No matter where he looked or where he went, he could feel her glow. Suddenly, it felt more intense than ever.

He looked up. She was walking straight toward him with an angry, determined look on her face. He winced. All of his attempts not to be creepy had apparently not worked. He put on his most affable, charming smile, and stood up to greet her respectfully.

Before she could say anything, he stuck out his hand when she got close enough and said in the best Russian he could manage, “I’m sorry. My name is Michael. I noticed you at the festival. You’re so beautiful and good with the kids. It made my day to watch you for a bit. I apologize. I should’ve introduced myself in the first place.”

She smacked away the hand he offered for a handshake.

“Cut the shit,” she spoke quietly, so the kids wouldn’t overhear on their side of the park. “He sent you to spy on me.”

Michael was shocked, to say the least. He rubbed his hand. It didn’t hurt, of course, because of a werewolf’s high tolerance to pain, but he hadn’t expected her to hit him.

She continued to glare at him. He might have been impressed at how badly he’d screwed this up, if only he understood what had just happened. As it was, he wasn’t really sure what she was saying.

He said, “Nobody sent me. I’m just a dumb guy who had nothing better to do. Is somebody spying on you?”

She stared into his face angrily, looking into his eyes with a stern, unbroken glare. After a moment, she blinked, and her confidence in her accusation seemed to fade.

 “He didn’t send you?” she whispered.

Michael whispered back, “I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

She took a deep breath and laughed, smacking her forehead.

“I’m sorry. It was very rude to smack your hand like that. I’m on edge. You see; my ex-boyfriend…” she trailed off, looking embarrassed and still scared. She glanced back toward the kids to make sure they were all alright on the other side of the park.

Michael held up a hand, “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain to me. Men are jerks. Me included. Like I said, I shouldn’t have been following you.”

 “Why were you following me at all?” she said, suddenly wary once more.

He felt very warm in the face as he admitted again, “I saw you at the festival. You were so beautiful. I wanted to try to talk to you.”

She looked down at the ground, but she wasn’t being shy or flirty. She looked deeply saddened by what he said. Or perhaps he’d brought up a bad memory for her.

 “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it is hard to trust a man when he says such things. Do you understand?”

He nodded, but what she’d said earlier was still bothering him. He said quietly and gently, “If someone is bothering you, I can help you.”

She shook her head. “No, it is alright. I will handle it myself. Thank you for your kind words.”

She got up and made her way back toward the kids. Michael cursed himself, though he wasn’t sure what he could have done differently.

One of the kids had climbed to the top of the swing set. Michael noticed he was slipping. In another second, he would fall. Without thinking, Michael ran forward and easily caught the child. He set the little boy down, unharmed, and then he felt like an idiot. He’d made his way across the park too quickly for human speed.

The beautiful woman was looking at him with her mouth agape. She came up to him and stuck out her hand. “I’m Anna.”

He said, “I’m Michael.”

Her hand was soft and warm, like her eyes.

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