Once Bitten

By Alden S Bauers

Twenty years ago, Lewis Duncan's father uprooted him from Philadelphia and moved him to the small town of Blossburg, Pennsylvania. On top of dealing with the loss of his mother Lewis, faced the challenges of being the new kid and becoming a werewolf. With the help his eventual mate Jessica Langford, Lewis finds his way.

 

In the present, Lewis is now a university professor who 's spent 17 lonely years trying to forget Jessica after her mysterious disappearance. But now, she's back and Lewis's life is thrown into a life or death struggle with the woman he only thought he knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alden Bauers
• Release date: Jun 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201895969

Alden S Bauers

Alden S Bauers was born and raised on Long Island. He currently resides in Spartanburg, South Carolina where he works as a computer technician. He's married and has two young children. When he's not writing or spending time with his family, Alden enjoys modeling the Pennsylvania Railroad in N Scale and driving his 1965 Chevy Corvair

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Prologue

Abattered gray Hyundai Accent speeds north on US Route 15. It's just past two AM and the little subcompact with Washington plates is the lone car on the road. A woman in her late 30s is at the wheel. Her heart thuds in her chest as she sees the sign.

Exit 172, Blossburg, 2 Miles.

She takes the ramp without signaling. Once off the freeway, she prowls along silent, deserted streets until she comes to a house. She puts it in park and kills the motor.

On the porch, she sees the silhouette of a man and the glowing coal of his cigarette. She starts up the front walk.

Dad.

Welcome home.

They embrace.

Dad?

Yeah?

Have you told him I'm back?

Not yet. He'll find out soon enough. Now come on in a get some rest.

She goes upstairs to her old bedroom and flops down. Just as sleep coming to her, she hears it, the rumble of a flat six engine. She slides out of bed and pads to the window.

Sure enough, down on the street is a Chevy Corvair convertible. The top is up, but she doesn't need to see the driver to know who he is.

Soon, Lewis, soon.

L-L-L-LEWIS! A FEMININE voice calls out through the darkness.

I stumble through woods barely able to see a foot in front of me.

Lewis!

The voice is behind me now. I whirl around and see nothing.

Lewis! I'm coming!

It's screaming in my ear now. I open my mouth to yell.

Where the hell are you?

I awaken with a jolt. I stare at the ceiling for a moment trying to catch my breath. The green digits on my bedside clock show 4:45 AM. Too early to get up, yet too late to go back to sleep. I swing out of bed and make my way to the kitchen.

The voice from my dreams is all too familiar. It's getting close to the anniversary. I pull out my phone. Shit, it is the anniversary, 17 years to the day. All I need right now.

It's the first day of the semester and I've got a full schedule. What I want most right now is a cup of coffee and a real bachelor's breakfast full of comforting cholesterol. A couple of fried egg sandwiches fit that bill nicely.

While the Keurig brews my coffee and the bacon and eggs sizzle, I check the calendar, the full moon is a mere four days away. Damn it. I've been a werewolf for going on 20 years now and I still let it sneak up on me. Today's anniversary and the full moon are of course inexorably linked. But I push it out of my mind. At the very least, I owe that to my students.

I finish my breakfast and slide behind the wheel of my prized fire-engine red '64 Chevy Corvair Spyder. I turn the key, the engine sputters for a moment and dies. With a few pumps of the gas, the motor starts with a roar. Much to the chagrin of neighbors I sit with the car on fast idle for a minute or so before leaving.

Before I get on the highway, I roll by the Langford house. It's dark. Not surprising at this hour. I pause a moment, then hit Route 15 north towards Mansfield.

One

Mansfield, Pennsylvania, Present Day

It’s late and I’m wiped . Not unusual for the first day of the semester. I slide behind the wheel of my Corvair and drop the top. Before I can back out, my phone beeps. Dave Langford's texting me.

You coming by tonight?

I’m tired, I want to go home and crash on my couch.

Of course, I’ll be there shortly.

I put the car in gear and soon I’m barreling south on the US 15 Freeway. The wind tosses my hair. On the oldies station, The Undisputed Truth sings about how smiling faces sometimes tell lies.

I reach the Blossburg exit and flick the turn signal stalk. As I hit the ramp, I toe-heel downshift, the way she used to in her white Miata. No! I don't want to think about her. Not just yet anyway.

I cruise up Main Street. Mitch Pulaski is coming out of the hardware store. I throw him a wave; he flips me the bird.

A few minutes later, I roll to a stop in front of the Langford house and kill the motor.

The old girl looks good.

I look up and see Dave on the front porch.

Thanks, just ceramic coated her.

Come on in.

Dave's a retired Pennsylvania state trooper, a real good guy. His hair is white and his face hardened with age.

Before I enter, my eyes catch a battered Hyundai Accent with Washington plates parked in front of the next house. Something tells me those plates and that VIN didn’t go together.

He sets some glasses on the coffee table and pours Jim Beam. He knows just how I like my bourbon, two fingers, neat with a splash of water.

I take my drink and sit on the edge of the sofa, hunching forward a bit. Dave flops down on his Laz-e-boy and stares into space. There's a white elephant in this room. It's the reason we're here yet neither of us wishes to acknowledge it.

We make small talk. He tells me he remembers what a rust bucket the Corvair was when I got it nearly 20 years ago. But then, Dave goes for it.

Seventeen years, holy shit.

I take a pull from my drink.

I can’t believe it.

Before the conversation can continue, I hear the floor above me creek. Then I notice the third glass on the table.

Is someone else here?

Dave leans forward and sets his empty glass down.

I guess now’s as good’a time as any.

He turns toward the other room.

You can come on down now!

I hear the distinct sound of bare feet on wooden stairs.