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Alpha, Do I Know You?

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Blurb

BOOK 1 OF THE ROSEWOOD TRILOGY

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Evangeline Rosewood was young when she was adopted into a pack of wolves that constantly abused her, even her mate rejected her—all because they thought she is human.

However, what they don't know is that she is a werewolf just waiting for the right time to search for her pack, the Rosewood pack in her memories.

Now when the group that has been killing werewolf packs has reached near them, Evangeline decides that the time is right and leaves to help the pack that has been attacked, because the danger is far from over.

With powers she's only beginning to realize, Evangeline is caught in the throes of a werewolf adventure that has never been seen before as she juggles searching for her own pack, helping the others, and discovering who she is.

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BOOK 2: CHASING AFTER ASHES (now available at Dreame)

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Chapter 1: Hidden
There are always two sides to a person—one they show the world and one they keep to themselves.Although for some, the façade is worn like second skin, comfortable enough not to be suffocating, but for others, being completely free of any deception is like getting a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long in lies. Years of walking upright,pretending my senses were as blind and dull as a human, has made me perpetuallyirritable of my own kind. I wanted to shed my human skin and run on all paws asfar and often as I could, but that wasn’t possible. Not with how the pack thatadopted me when I was young thought me wholly human. The brightness of the moon softly illuminated the trees as I ran through the forest, easily moving past rocks and branches. This late at night when the people of the nearby city and the wolves of the pack house are asleep, I usually shift for ten minutes and just run—enjoying even fleetingly of letting only my instincts take over. I would have loved to run more than ten minutes but with the pack so near and easily woken, I could be easily discovered. I slowed down to a trot, closed my eyes and sniffed the air. Still good, I thought, making sure that I had no scent. Better to err on the side of caution than risk being discovered by them. That would be the worst thing,since I would prefer to reveal who I am to these guys on my own time and when the circumstances are right. Someone groaned softly, the sound echoing loudly against the stillness of night. I snapped my head to where the sound came from, instantaneously becoming more alert. At this time of night, nobody is usually awake, even werewolves. Because there has been no threat or discord in this pack in the past decade, werewolves have become careless when it came to their safety. Erring on the side of caution like securing the perimeter,keeping watch of supernaturals or supes that comes into their territory, has been ignored. I’m not sure about other supes, but with the pack I’m in, it’s magnanimously obvious how closely they are to living like humans. Which is why being awake at night, and not making use of the cover of darkness to live like the beasts that we are, has become the norm. A bit ironic considering Hans, the alpha of this pack I’m in, is so against humans that it feels like he can’t breathe and talk properly without the barricade of hate against that race in his own throat. The soft whine and groans became louder as I trudged slowly to where the sounds were coming from. There was a chance that it was an injured animal, but my doubt increased until I was sure that the groaning couldn’t be anything but two people frolicking at night. It’s Tate, I thought, recognizing his scent in the air along with the resident hoe, Trisha. I have really really nothing against her, only that she—and everybody in the pack—belittles me every chance they get because I’m human, the bottom of the ladder of species. Also,along with her winning attitude, she loves to make out and wrap herself around my mate, like what she’s doing right now, I saw as I peered past the bush. Tate’s blonde hair was almost white in the soft light of the moon as he leaned Trisha down the ground and continued kissing her. I turned my eyes away. I’ve already seen enough. Not just tonight, but each day since Trisha grew into her boobs and she seduced him in the hopes of becoming the mate of the future head of the pack. With how things are between them, looks like she’s on her way there. A cloying, sweetly bitter scent permeated the air as their bodies continued to move against each other. I gagged as soon as I smelled it. Not being able to take it anymore, I ran. The heady scent, a result of their intimacy, was nauseating and seemed to follow me even as I ran as fast as I could back to my cottage. This shouldn’t affect me this much, I thought, hoping like hell that on willpower alone could I forget how Tate looked as he fervently kissed her. Someone who isn’t his mate. But it’s not like he knows who his mate really is since usually wolves have to turn 16 first before they could feel the pull. It’s an indescribable desire, attraction, and commitment to another wolf who is meant to spend their lives with you. However, because of how strong the attraction is going to be once a werewolf is mature enough to feel the pull, they’re usually attracted to their mates beforehand. Finding mates are usually easy especially if they’re living in close proximity with each other—which is why everyone believes that Trisha is Tate’s mate. But through some unfortunate—for me—turn of events, I just had the bad luck to find out that Tate is my mate when he turned sixteen a few months ago. He was every bit his father’s son, the leader of the Alcatrozz pack—he commandeers the attention of anyone, back straight, comfortable in his skin, and seeming to take up more space than he does in reality with his tall and sturdy body. And he also wields arrogance like none other, something he adopted from both his parents. In the least, with the company he keeps, his arrogance could be tamped down depending on the situation unlike with his father who walks as if he is king of all—arrogance made real. With somebody like him, I knew from the moment I felt the first stirrings of the pull, forcing me to always be aware of his presence around the pack house, making me want to breathe in his scent and wrap it around my body like the warm, comfortable blanket it could be if he was to accept me as his mate. But of course that wouldn’t happen. Not unless I reveal that I am a werewolf too. I shifted back into a human right before I arrived at my cottage door, opened it, and raced toward my bed. I lay face down on the mattress, closing my eyes, trying and failing to remember faint memories from years ago. It slips through the cracks of my memories, until all I could recall is the warmth of someone’s hug and fervent whispers of, “Don’t let them find you darling”, “You’re the only hope of the Rosewood pack”. No, don’t think about that now, I thought, shaking my head like it could prevent those memories from coming to the forefront of my mind. I sighed, realizing that shaking my head won’t stop that memory from rising to the surface and haunting me all night. It was one of the earliest memory I have before I was suddenly found on the doorstep of this pack. A little human child dropped off in the middle of vicious werewolves. Nobody expected me to live past the first week I was abandoned at the den of wolves, lest of all last through my teenage years without being mangled and disfigured here and there.But I did, somehow, despite the rare almost crippling physical abuse, and frequent emotional and mental abuse—all this just because they thought I was human. Shaking my head as I remembered all the things they’ve done to me, I almost cannot believe how narrow-minded this pack I had the misfortune to be raised in. With all the other werewolf packs who have visited this pack, I have seen how they interacted without the level of disgust and belittlement these guys show humans. As a child, my grasp and hold on the memories I had before weren’t as clear and firm as I do with it now that I’m older. My memory is slippery at best from when I arrived here, but there are few things I know without a doubt from that night: I was supposed to stay a human, peeling away my wolf scent, and adapting the pure vanilla scent humans have. With these faint memories that lurks in my mind, over the years the reason why I was supposed to stay a human was lost with time. Somehow, I just knew that I should because if I didn’t something would happen—although I haven’t the faintest idea what.Although I am hoping it isn’t as terrible as being kidnapped and experimented on, since covering and hiding your scent is not a normal ability that werewolves have. However, the call to run and interact with the world in my other form was too hard to resist that it was an impossible feat. Which is why, despite firm knowledge in my mind that I shouldn’t and the guilt I felt gnawing inside me from disobeying these faint memories of voices telling me that I shouldn’t, I started shifting a few years ago. And the sensation was liberating. After years of being trapped as a human,it felt as if I could run to the ends of the world and nobody would be able to stop me. I know I am being careless shifting when I am surrounded by a bunch of wolves who’ll sooner attack me than pause to wonder how I’m in their territory. But I couldn’t resist the call of the wild, the feeling of being able to let your bases of instincts dominate your whole mind. It was exhilarating, and it still is. Nevertheless my moments of weakness of succumbing to my nature, I know without a doubt that I could never risk revealing I was wolf, all for a guy. Even if he was my mate. Turning over to lie properly on the bed, I faced the windowsill and looked at the moon. Its gentle luminance slowly pulled me into a somnolent state, my thoughts haphazardly flitting across like the static of a television. As I was lulled into a deep sleep, one thought was at the forefront of my mind, resonating with importance,yet was overwhelmed wholly by dreams. I was drawn awake by the sunlight streaming in from the open window. Groggily, I got up and started preparing for another grueling day as the all-around maid for the pack. As I was brushing my teeth with blurry eyes, I noticed a distinct red circle on the small calendar next to the rectangular wall mirror. Blinking profusely to clear my eyes, I saw that I have encircled the day today with a thick red mark. My eyes widened because that could only mean one thing. It’s my birthday. Uncontrollably, I spat out the toothpaste in shock. s**t. s**t,s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t! This couldn’t happen today, or any day for that matter as long as I’m staying here. God how could I have been so stupid to forget my own birthday. And it’s my 16th birthday for that matter!Maybe I should have ran away last night, instead of running back to my cottage,because still being unsure of where I’m going at this moment, and being unprepared, is better than facing Tate and knowing he’ll know we’re mates. But the worst part comes after, when he would flat-out deny who I am to him,because of what he thinks I am. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the devastation I would feel afterward, where I would still see him happy and intimate with Trisha. I slumped down the floor, feeling as if a monster is looming around the corner, about to find me and devour me whole. I pulled my legs closer and hugged them, closing my eyes. I knew this day was going to come, ever since I realized he was my mate. And in a way, I have numbed myself to some of the backlash of pain I’m going to feel when he rejects me, but preparing for the expectations are entirely different when reality and all the problems that come with it, comes like a freight train towards you. Avoiding it is impossible, preparing for it improbable, so what could I do at this moment with the train only a few seconds away from hitting me? Just face it head-on.

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