Dear Reader,

I always wanted to write a story where the were-creatures weren’t wolves or big cats. Which presented an interesting dilemma, until one morning when the hero of Taken sauntered onstage and started telling me his story. Characters. They always act like they own the place.

Anyway, I had a great deal of fun writing this. I hope it’s good for you, too…

Lilith Saintcrow

For Mel Sterling,

best friend and beta reader.

“Half my ass is hanging out.” Sophie tugged on the skirt’s hem. There was nothing like wearing your friend’s clothes to remind you of your shortcomings. “I’m, what, only an inch taller than you?”

“Oh, you look fine.” Lucy swept her short, sleek dark hair back, blotting her lipstick. Luce even lit a cigarette before opening her door, the brief flare of the lighter painting her face with gold. “You look hot. Why don’t you ever loosen up and wear a miniskirt?”

“I wear appropriate attire for my job.” Sophie pushed her glasses up, wishing her curls weren’t falling in her eyes. Lucy insisted she leave her hair down. The car was nice and warm, so the touch of cold wind on her bare legs was shocking when she stepped out. She pulled the back of the skirt down one more time and wished she’d just worn jeans. Jeans covered up a lot. “There’s a dress code, you know.” And I don’t have anything else in my closet. Food first, clothes later, that’s the rule.

Luce was already tapping her foot, eager to be off down the cracked sidewalk. “Oh, please. Margo the Battle-Ax wears scrubs all day. You could, too, you know.” She’d squeezed into a short evening-blue silk sheath that showed off her ample curves, and her legs looked long and beautiful in a pair of fishnets, ending in a lovely pair of glittering silver heels.