I'm His Mate(Touch #1) - UNDER RE-CONSTRUCTION :)

THANK YOU!!!!-Author's Note

Oh my gosh, guys!!!! I found out yesterday that I'VE BEEN RANKED #233 IN WEREWOLF 😁🎉🎈🎆💥!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for all of your votes and comments because without you guys, I wouldn't have been able to achieve this, and your votes/comments honestly make my day. I've also hit 50K VIEWS, and I'm so happy and thankful for everything. When I started this book, I didn't think my book would get this far, and I just can't thank you guys enough. Your support is absolutely amazing.

-booklver😘

Btw, I'd love for you guys to check out my other book Dark Whispers. Here's a bit of it:

I probably looked like a deranged idiot, but I didn't care. Kissing my hand and touching the coffin, I stepped back and watched as the crane lowered it into the ground. Then, it quickly filled the hole with dirt and people began to put flowers on top of the grave. Barely able to see through the tears, I gently rested purple lilacs on the grave, and walked away. I could hear my mom calling me, but I ignored her. Time seemed to pass slowly as I stepped around graves and headstones. Some were broken, some were perfectly manicured. Some had messages written on them while some were bare except for the name and date of birth and death. I looked around me, finding an empty patch of grass, and sat down. I didn't care about the fact that my dress might get dirty, or there were bugs on the ground. I didn't care about anything anymore. I began reading some of the headstones nearby but halted when I saw a figure a couple of feet away. Whoa, he's cute.

Immediately, I mentally scolded myself. Baerin is dead, and you're thinking about how cute a guy looks? Really, Eireena?

His hair was black and cut short, a few strands falling over his forehead and a little over his left eye. Bright seafoam irises stared into my dark ones, and his skin, which had the lightest tan, was marble smooth. He wore black converse and black skinny jeans with a dark grey sweatshirt. With his arms crossed, he leaned on one of the headstones, and I realized that he looked eighteen, maybe. Just three years older than me.

My phone rang, and I looked down at my sweater, taking my phone out of my pocket. Mom's name flashed on the screen, and I sighed. "Hello?" I asked wearily.

I glanced up to look at the guy again, but he was gone. I heard the babble of Mom's voice through the phone, but it was as if it was background noise. He was just here, only a couple feet to my right. Stepping forward, I looked around, squinting my eyes so I could see better into the distance. Not even a speck. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I asked Mom to repeat what she said.

"Come on, honey. We're going home," she said softly.

"Coming," I muttered before ending the call and turning around to walk back to the rest of my family.