The following is a sneak peek from the early draft of book three of the Braeden Wolf series that is still in the work. It still needs completing and of course a polish and edit.
There are few pleasant ways to be woken up after a big night out. A cellphone blaring fit to wake the dead first thing in the morning is not one of them, and I know a thing or two about waking the dead.
My hand groped for the phone even as my eyes stayed shut to try and contain the raging ache throbbing away in my head. The tangle of sheets and limbs didn’t help matters trying to reach for the phone, nor the fact I was in an unfamiliar room.
Finally I reached the phone and answered it, mumbling a reply that might have been along the lines of ‘morning.’
“Not for the last few hours.” The voice on the other end of the phone was female; excessively so. Her voice could wake the dead in a whole different manner of speaking. Her name is Angela Grey, though I only ever call her Honey.
I sat up sharply and instantly wished I hadn’t. I creaked open an eye to look at the clock beside the bed. There was no blurring of vision; when you have tin eyes replacing the flesh ones certain foibles of the body are no longer an issue.
The clock read 2:43. Of the PM, not AM.
Okay, so it wasn’t morning but it was close enough, or at least that was what my body told me.
“What can I do for you, Honey?” I mumbled.
“I need your help Braeden.” She had her game voice on, all intense and authoritative, the one she uses when working. This was serious.
“Okay give me the details.”
She rattled off an address of the Docklands district of The City before hanging up. I really could have done with some more sleep followed by a whole jug of coffee but that wasn’t going to be. When Honey says jump I can’t really so no to her. I have that problem with most women, but more so with Honey. It’s a long story; let’s just say that the only chance I’ll have to get with her is if I go along with what she wants. That and my charm. It is worth all the hassle.
I tried to slip out of the bed but that is not easy when you are all tangled up. The other occupant stirred. I think her name is Nikki or Niccole or Nicola. Anyway, something like that. I’m sure its starts with N. Not a whole lot of last night really stands out in the old memory bank. I do remember there was drinking. Lots of it. Somewhere along the way I hooked up with Nikki, or whoever she was, and ended up back at her place for some more partying. There was a vague recollection of not a whole lot of sleep happening.