What Should I Write Next?

Idea 1: A Werewolf Story

I've never written an exclusively werewolf centered story before. Mostly because there are so many tropes and rules to follow within the werewolf genre that I'm a little intimidated by it. I'm afraid I won't do it justice. But I've had this story idea in my head for over a year now, and it's a little different than the traditional wolf story. 

Keep in mind, this is a very rough pitch, and I still haven't come up with a title yet, but the premise is this: A woman is bitten and turned by a wolf, and every full moon her husband helps lock her up to keep her from getting out and hurting anyone. He then gets killed by a couple of hunters (Supernatural-esque hunters), and so she sets out to get revenge, only to inadvertently fall in love with one of the hunters without realizing who he actually is and what he'd done😦

Huh? 

What do y'all think? 

Something you might be interested in? 

What about if I post a bit of a chapter I had written for this? 'Cause I already started writing it a while back, but decided to put it on pause while I worked on Bloodshed. I'll post it below and let you guys check it out 😊

~~~

Itchy leather cuffs bit into my wrists as I pulled against the restraints. Heavy, thick-linked chains rattled lazily in response. Then I tested the restraints around my ankles. Those chains clinked as they should, but didn't feel quite as sturdy as the ones holding back my arms.

It wasn't the first time I'd been cuffed, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But you couldn't tell from the way my pulse thrummed with fear.

I looked at the poor soul in front of me, heart in my throat. "Are you sure these will hold?"

His brown eyes softened, and he cupped my face with both hands. "Ella, baby, you aren't going anywhere." He paused to give me a chaste kiss. "I promise."

The warmth of his tone was like a balm to my raw nerves. He soothed me, and I found myself quietly thanking God for such a supportive husband. "I love you, Grayson."

"I love you, too." He smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

This kiss was more urgent than the first, hurried but somehow languid, like he was trying to savor me as quickly as he could. It was blissful, feeling his warm mouth on mine. For a few minutes I forgot where I was, forgot the pain that was closing in on me.

But it was short lived.

The joints in my fingers began to crack and stretch, bringing a sheet of sweat to coat my naked back. I whimpered at the familiar pain, breath quickening. "It's starting. You need to go."

The joints in my feet were the next to pop. Then my ankles, my knees, my hips. Each bringing more pain and sweat. I fell on all fours, panting, feeling less human with each agonizing second. "Leave, Grayson. Now!"

Every vertebra in my spine snapped and shifted, dragging a painful shriek out of me. Tears blinded me, and I could barely see Grayson as he stumbled backwards. He steadied himself with the vault door at the back of the room, and with a heartbroken glance, he darted through the door and slammed it shut.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the door's locked engaged audibly. Then I forced myself to be quiet long enough to hear Grayson head upstairs, to the second door, which was disguised as a bookshelf.

Once that door was opened and closed, I started laughing, thinking of how cool Grayson found the secret bookshelf entrance when we first moved in this house. The room it led to, the room that was stripped bare save for the chains securing me to a reinforced steel wall, was originally designed as a nuclear fallout shelter. Grayson wanted to turn into a man cave.

Unfortunately, fate had other ideas for the space.

The excruciating pain in my teeth robbed me of thought, and I screamed. This was always the worst part. I clenched my jaw, bracing for the skull-crushing headache that always came before I blacked out, before I changed. I whimpered, begging for the darkness to hurry up and take me, when a crash upstairs snapped me out of the trance of my agony.

"Grayson?" I called out to him, breathing ragged.

Shockwaves of pain shot through my skull, and I bit my lip until I tasted metal. I had to be quiet, had to listen.

Inhaling a loud, shaky breath, I closed my eyes and let my senses take over.

"Who are you?" Grayson was shouting at someone. "Get the hell out of my house before I call the police!"

"We just want the woman." A voice I didn't recognize. A man's voice.

"Shit, woman?!" Another man snorted. I didn't recognize his voice, either. "More like four-legged death machine. Come on, man! Let's pop this guy and kill the bitch already."

Blind rage pushed me over the precipice of darkness, and I instantly lost myself. Normally I would black out completely, the only good thing about this curse. But this time was different. This time I caught glimpses of the carnage, the brutality.

I'd heard a gunshot, heard the groan of straining metal as I fought against the chains holding me back. Then I blinked and was upstairs. Grayson was on the floor, eyes wide and blank, his blood forming a crimson halo around his head. I tried to scream but it came out as a howl.

"There you are, bitch." A man with a gun sneered. He looked a little spooked, but he grinned at me despite it.

Things went black again, voices faded in and out of the air. They tripped over each other, the voices, tangled in the haze of my semi-consciousness. And then I heard a man say, "no, don't shoot her. She's worth more alive."

I don't remember much after that. Just the smell of blood, gunpowder, and rain. 

~~~

So, what do you guys think? Would you wanna see where this story could go? And before anyone says anything, I do plan on finishing Mountains and Monsters...eventually. I've hit a bit of a snag with it right now, and figured maybe spitting out my other story ideas would help me work through the block. 

Be sure to let me know what you all think in the comments. As always, thank you so much for reading. Love you guys bunches ❤️