Vera was standing at the kitchen sink one afternoon, looking out the window at the wind tossing the treetops when Lucien came up behind her and wrappe... his big arms around her waist. He squeezed till the breath left her lungs in a giggle and bit the side of her neck. ‘What are you thinking about,’ his voice rumbled against her hair. ‘How long have you lived here Lucien?’ Vera turned in his arms and looked up at his face. ‘A few years,’ he shrugged. ‘So long!’ Vera exclaimed. Not all werewolves. -Just ninety seconds previously, Emily was hyperventilating. This had been such a terrible day, she just knew Mr Francis was going to fire her mere hours after hiring her. Not only had she destroyed one of his new statues, there was a growing bulge in the ceiling directly above his desk, with water from the upstairs bathroom swelling the plaster and dribbling all over his important papers and the framed photograph of his wife. She only had her suit jacket left after losing all her other. More

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