Skin

Prologue

With his pen in his hand a draft in another, he hit the end of his pen onto his wooded desk. No words were said as he read. Nothing but the sound of the pen pulling on my strings. Every six months for the last ten years I have given Mr. Heller my story drafts so that I may get paid. May. You see, Mr. Heller owns the top publishing company in the world. Those who can please him through their story gets a job with the company and gets a butt load of cash for each book.

Ten years ago I was a young sixteen year old, high school kid, who really need a job. I need something that was fast, easy, and didn't take up most of my time. I was always into writing but never did I think that I would do it for a living or get to work with none other than Mr. John Heller.

Holding my breath, he dropped his pen and rubbed his eye. I almost cursed, it wasn't good. Then he yawned, stretched in his chair and then went back to reading. It wasn't good, it was trash. In defeat I sighted. Looking around the room I was wondering what I did wrong.

He wanted something sexy, something about werewolf romance because it was in. He wanted something that would capture the eyes of young teens and young adults. I did that. Did he want it to be more exotic like the other few book I did?

I glanced at him to find his cold icy blue eyes on me. Adjusting himself in his chair so his entire body faced me. He placed my draft on the desk.

"Miss. Green, How many years have you worked for me?" He asked firmly.

"Ten years sir," I said returning the same tone.

"How many books have you written for me?"

"Twenty, sir."

"How many books have I dismissed?"

"Five, sir."

"Make this six," he almost made a growl-like tone as he pushed the draft toward me.

"I did want you asked of me. So what did I do wrong?"

"It what you didn't do," he said now gazing at his computer. "There's no feeling in it. I want something new out of you. Ten years and your writing hasn't changed. I want real emotion, real passion, and real sorrow, out of you."

I sat there in silence. I need the money and my part time job wasn't giving me enough. As if I was trying to find the words he spoke again. "Take this," pulling a red leather book out of his draw and placing it on my daft.

"Yes, Sir." Getting up off the black leather chair I picked up my daft, with the book and was ready to head out before I was stopped half way.

"And Miss. Green," I made a complete 90 degree angle to look at him. Eyes meeting, "For god sakes change the title. 'Don't Cry Wolf', it been over used and I don't want to see alpha anywhere in that title."

"And what would you like it to be, sir," I asked trying not to run over there, jump over his desk and choke the living hell out of him.

"Skin will do."