• Dom Whit

Pack Dreams is releasing December 7th

I know I announced Nov 23rd, but I wanted to give myself two more weeks to make this story everything you are expecting.

I hope this doesn't put too much of a wrench in your plans, and I appreciate your patience. Pre-order your copy before the price goes up release week!

Check out the second sneak peek below.

Finally, here is your next Sneak Peek of Pack Dreams

As always, please remember that this is a sneak peek and subject to change with editing.

"My eyes snap open, my heart racing. I’m nestled in my giant bed, surrounded by pillows, and soaked with sweat.

What woke me?

It’s dark, I have no idea what time but it doesn’t feel close to morning. Groggily, I reach for my phone on the nightstand and check. It’s quarter after midnight.

The house is quiet, aside from the low hum of the heat running. I lay for a few minutes, trying to sort out why I’m awake. I feel as if I were startled awake by something, but I have no idea what.

Then, in the distance, I hear it: The howling of wolves. It starts out as a single wolf releasing a sharp, lamenting keen, and then more join in until it’s a chorus of wolf calls.

Suddenly, the dream I’d interrupted by waking comes back to me.

In the dream I was a wolf. I was running through the forest with my pack, leading them, charging along the wooded path under bright moonlight.

Well, that makes sense. Hear wolf calls, dream about wolves.

Now that I’m awake, hunger gnaws a hole in my belly. I didn’t eat much dinner because it felt too early for the meal, and since the household staff removed the tray I was paying the price. While I was excited about this massive house and my own personal suite of rooms at first, I now recognize the downfall.

Because all that house lay between me and a snack.

I try to go back to sleep for a while until I realize it’s no use. The hunger pang in my stomach grows more insistent, and I finally throw the covers back and stand.

Roxanne gave me a quick tour of my rooms before bed, so I knew where to find a thick fluffy robe and slippers. Using the flashlight on my camera, I exit my room and make my way down the hall toward the elevator.

It takes me a minute to realize I’m being excessively quiet, as though I’m attempting to be sneaky. My heart racing and palms sweating, like I’m doing something wrong.

But this isn’t the foster house. There’s no lock on the fridge, and no one is going to beat me with a belt for being out of bed. At our apartment in LA Roxanne let me eat whenever and whatever I wanted, provided I had three reasonable meals a day. She never forbade snacks or treats, which at first was too much for me to handle.

I hoarded stuff in my room for months, fearful that it would be taken away or I’d have to grab my stuff and run. Gradually I started putting it back in the cupboard, and if she noticed she never said a word. By the end of our year I had complete faith that no matter when I wanted it, food would be there for me to have.

After four years of foster care and street life, Roxanne managed to tame the feral beast I’d become into a reasonable approximation of a domesticated teenager. Even so, I make a mental note to ask her to put a small fridge and snack cupboard in my closet. There’s plenty of space, and then if I’m up late I don’t need to traverse the Oregon Trail to get a snack.

I take the little elevator downstairs, the light from my phone all the illumination I have. Once out on the ground floor the giant windows let in a decent amount of moonlight, and I have no problem finding my way to the kitchen.

I manage to locate some cheese, bottled water, and crackers without turning on any lights. For some reason it feels as though I’d trip an alarm that sent staff scurrying if I flip a switch, and I definitely don’t want to wake them. Although now that I think about it, the house feels empty. Of course it’s massive beyond all sense, and only twelve people reside here. But even early this evening I could feel the presence of other people. Right now, I feel like the only soul alive in this place.

The wolves continue their howling outside, sending a sudden shiver racing up my spine. I shove my pockets full of snacks then head back the way I came and up the elevator. The second story hallway is deathly quiet, and I listen for any tell-tale signs of other humans like snoring or creaking floorboards, but none reach my ears before I close my suite door.

Once I’ve finished my snack and my tummy is happy, I slide back under the covers and lay back on my nest of pillows.

The wolf howls are far in the distance now, almost inaudible, and I drift off peacefully.

Loved the sneak peek ... need more!

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