Blood of a Werewolf - Book 1 - Blood Series

It was one hundred and one degrees out, which was unusually hot for being so close to the coast in the San Francisco Bay area.

Feeling rather like a fruit roll-up, Darby O’Rielly peeled her sweaty legs from the car seat when she arrived home after working all day.

Thankfully, hot days in the bay area were often cooled in the late afternoon by ocean breezes and a blanket of fog. This evening was no exception.

The sun was low in the west but hours from setting when Darby climbed the porch steps of the cute little bungalow she called home. She and her sister Rowan inherited the house from their parents when they died a few years back. It was an older craftsman style house with a deep porch for enjoying the long summer evenings. Its deep gray-blue paint was trimmed in white and accentuated the smooth river rock wainscoting to a tee.

Darby unlocked the deep burgundy colored door and dropped her keys and purse on the couch, making her way to the tiny table that housed the blinking light of the answering machine. Hitting the play button on the machine she continued down the hallway, shedding clothes as she made her way to the bedroom.

Rowan’s recorded voice began pleading Darby to meet her at Paddy’s, a local pub a few blocks away. Darby replied to the answering machine sarcastically, “Sure. Meet you at Paddy’s so you can stand me up again? I don’t think so.”

She pulled out a pair of cut-offs from the laundry basket when the second message began to play. It, too, was from Rowan. Knowing Darby would doubt her sincerity, she added “I promise I’ll be there this time. Please! Please! Please!”

Rowan knew her sister well. Rowan may have been undependable, but Darby was a sucker for her pleading little sister. Darby mumbled back to her sister’s voice, “Yah! Yah!”

She came out to the living room hitting the ‘on’ button of the stereo, and grabbing its remote, she shoved it into her back pocket and headed for the front yard. With the unusually intense heat, there were a few plants in the yard in dire need of an extra dose of water. A commercial was playing on the stereo as she unwound the hose and turned on the water. Once the water squirted from the nozzle, she headed for droopy plants.

The grass was refreshing to her sweaty, hot feet but a shot of the hose on and around her toes felt fabulous. She even squished a little cold mud through them.

She made her way throughout the yard watering and enjoying the coolness. The heat pronounced the scents of the surrounding flowers exponentially. She closed her eyes enjoying each of the fragrances that rode on the gentle breeze kissing her face. Rosemary, jasmine, and lilac were the most dominant, but there were hints of sweet aromatic roses, and honeysuckle, reminiscent of past happy summers. She relished the scents and the memories they brought to mind when the Modern English song “I’ll Stop The World and Melt With You” played on the stereo within the house. It was such a great song and so appropriate for a hot day.

She stood watering and savoring her little piece of paradise, humming along with the tune. The music engulfed her and over took her inhibitions. Her head started bouncing to the beat, then her hips started to move and she began to sing along louder and louder. Her front yard became her stage and she sang her heart out while dancing on the ankle-high lawn. She sprayed the water straight up and twirled beneath the rain of droplets. The sprinkling water against the purple-orange sky was stunning, falling to Earth like jewels. The cool water washed her of all the heat and stress of her day. The feeling was glorious—a sense of sweet euphoric release.

Exhilarated and smiling as the song came to an end, she spun once more and noticed someone on the front porch of the house next door watching her display of adolescence. She stopped immediately, pulled the remote out of her pocket and turned down the music. How long had he been standing there? That house hasn’t been rented for months, she thought to herself, yet there he was, hands folded across his chest, watching. And in case she wasn’t already discomfited, he started clapping too.