Shadow of the Wolf

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First printing

All characters in this book are purely fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Dedications

Thank God for giving me a passion for writing.

I want to give a big THANK YOU to my family for your support and encouragement.

I would also like to thank Serbian model, Marko Gerber, for gracing the cover and inspiring the character, Trevor Van Holden.  I had almost exhausted my search for a man who would fit Trevor’s intensity and werewolf qualities. On a whim, I decided to Google ‘sexy male werewolves’. What a very nice surprise to see Marko’s picture on the 1st page. His eyes drew me in and I immediately knew he was the one. 

Song of inspiration:
Sitting on the Moon
(Acretongue Remix
) by
Helalyn Flowers.

I hope you enjoy Trevor and Serenitee’s story and much as I enjoyed writing it.

Happy reading,

Anastacia Kelley
 

Prologue

The Van Holden Family Tree

1840-1930 great-great-great grandfather Joseph Van Holden, founder of Holden, Alabama

1865-1945 great
-great grandfather Elijah Van Holden

1888-1958 great grandfather
Andrew Van Holden

1923-1983 grandfather
John Van Holden

1953-2003 father
Craig Van Holden

1980-present Trevor Van Holden

Chapter One

    
Serenitee Snow pulled her SUV into the gravel driveway of her new home.  She saw the realtor waiting patiently beside his own car, keys to her house in his hand.

    
Looking at it again, Serenitee couldn’t believe her good fortune.  She practically got the house at a steal.  Now, it was all hers and she could give the long abandoned mini mansion some much needed TLC.

    
Serenitee had decided it was time to move from the hustle and bustle of the city of New York to a more laid back kind of life.  After months of looking on the internet and through a multitude of newspapers, she had found this piece of land.  On it, sat a beautiful old two story house built in the mid 1800’s.  It had plenty of space, lots of land and only one neighbor for miles, which was what she had wanted.  The house was on the extension of property by the Van Holden estate.  When she dug deeper, she found out that this Trevor Van Holden was heir to the town of Holden, Alabama.  His great-great-great grandfather built the town up from practically nothing back in 1865 and now, being the only Van Holden left, it belonged to Trevor.  

    
When she found the information about the house on the internet, she thought it was too good to be true.  A four bedroom/four bathroom home with a large kitchen, a dining room with a stone fireplace and a library, which held hundreds of books, that was for sell for well below the asking price seemed like a hoax.  Her mom had taught her that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.  So, Serenitee called the realtor in charge of selling this historic home.  She couldn’t believe her ears when the realtor confirmed that the price of the home she saw in the advertisement was the real price.  He was even willing to go down from there.  But he didn’t go into any detail whatsoever about Trevor Van Holden when she’d asked.  She just assumed he didn’t know that much about him personally.

    
Serenitee couldn’t help but wonder why such a gorgeous home with this much historic value was so dirt cheap.  They usually sold for a small fortune and then some.  Serenitee decided not to tempt fate and look any further.  It
was
possible that someone might find out this home was in the market and buy it right out from under her.  She told the realtor, Mr. Stilman, that she was willing to buy it now before another person snatched it up.  Surprisingly, he informed her that she was the only person who had asked about the home in over ten years.

    
The only time Serenitee saw these kinds of houses that inexpensive, it usually meant the place was haunted by some dark history or some kind of crime had taken place within its walls.  Serenitee had heard no such thing about this home when she had asked Mr. Stilman about the price.  She even jokingly asked if it was haunted.

    
Mr. Stilman didn’t seem to get the joke but said quietly, “If only.”

    
Serenitee decided not to let that remark bother her.  She wanted the house and now she got it.  She didn’t believe in silly superstitions, ghosts or things that went bump in the night anyway.  She came here to get away and to get some peace and quiet.  She wanted to work on her new novel and this was a perfect place to spark some new creative ideas.

   
Serenitee stepped out of her vehicle, locked the doors and walked with Mr. Stilman to the front door.

    
“Well, Miss Snow,” Mr. Stilman said, handing over the house keys, “it’s all yours.  I hope you enjoy your new home.”

    
Serenitee’s heart jumped in anticipation as she took the keys.  “Thank you, Mr. Stilman.  I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”  She unlocked the door. “Did you want to come in?”

    
Mr. Stilman looked surprised and shook his head.  “No, I must be heading back.  I have some paperwork to finish.  Call me if you need anything.”  By the sound of his voice, he only half meant it.

    
Serenitee nodded.  “Thanks.”  She watched him get into his car and quickly speed away.  Serenitee couldn’t stop a chuckle.  She was sure Mr. Stilman was overdramatizing the situation.  Didn’t she once hear that people from the South loved a good story and loved to embellish it a little?  She figured this just happened to be one of those times.

    
She would just have to get used to a different life style here.

    
Serenitee was about to take a step into her new home when, out of the corner of her blue eyes, she saw a dark figure cross.  She turned and found a man looking at her.  She knew it was her new neighbor and decided to be hospitable.  She waved and said hello.

    
He nodded her way briefly and walked away towards his own home.

    
Yes,
she thought, puzzled.
I’m going to really have to learn to adjust to this place.

    
Serenitee shrugged it all off and stepped beyond the threshold of her new home.

    
It was going to need about a week of elbow grease to get everything in order and how she wanted it.  She loved hard work and the weather was perfect this time of year.  She would have to raise the windows and let the fresh air carry away the staleness.  The air was perfumed with wild flowers and the sun was shining.  She couldn’t ask for more.

    
Serenitee looked around for a while, making mental notes on what needed to be done and supplies she would have to buy.  After about an hour of perusing her new home, her stomach began to rumble. 

    
She decided to stop at the local café before shopping for supplies.

     Serenitee introduced herself to Mrs. Greene, the owner of a quaint little eatery people called the ‘Down Home Café’.  Everything here was made from scratch and smelled like a piece of heaven.

    
Mrs. Greene pointed Serenitee to a seat at the bar.  She scanned the plastic covered menu.  Her mouth watered at all the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. 

    
“Well, dear.”  Mrs. Greene smiled and offered Serenitee a glass of water.  “You must be new around here.”

    
Serenitee laughed.  “Is it
that
easy to tell?”

    
“Well, you
do
look a bit different than most of the locals.  ‘Sides, I know everyone that comes in to eat here.  I know everybody in this town.  You ain’t one of ‘em.”

    
Serenitee didn’t know whether to be hurt or flattered.  “I am new to this state.  I just moved here from New York.”

    
Mrs. Greene patted Serenitee’s hand.  “Don’t pay too much attention to me.  I tend to run off at the mouth from time to time.  ‘Course, all the locals know what to expect of my chatter.  You stay here long enough; I’m guessin’ you will, too.” 

    
Serenitee considered her words carefully.  “I do plan on being here quite a while.”

    
“At the risk of soundin’ nosy, do you mind if I ask you where you’re stayin’?”

    
“Up at the old Van Holden estate.  I purchased the house that had been for sale for about ten years.  My realtor, Mr. Stilman, couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell me much about why that beautiful old house had stayed vacant for so long.  He clammed up when I asked him about Trevor Van Holden.”

    
Serenitee looked up from her menu to see the color drain from the owner’s face. 

    
“Mrs. Greene?  Are you all right?”

    
Mrs. Greene shook her head and cleared her throat.  “Oh, shucks, hon.  Don’t mind me.  I ain’t what I used to be.”  She leaned in closer.  “Between you and me, I wouldn’t go askin’ around about Trevor or the Van Holden estate.”

    
“May I ask why?”

    
“Bad blood.”  Like Mr. Stilman, she said no more about it.  “Have you decided what you wanna eat?  We have a special today.  Country fried steak with white gravy, green beans, mashed potatoes, cornbread or buttermilk biscuits and some of my world famous German chocolate cake for dessert.”

    
Serenitee gasped.  “Wow.  I’m going to have to get used to the cooking, too.  I have to admit, it smells wonderful in here.  I can’t say that a bowl of lettuce topped with bean sprouts has the same appeal.”

    
Mrs. Greene laughed and looked at Serenitee’s frame.  “Little thing like you, a hearty plate of Southern cookin’ is just what you need.  If you’re fixin’ up the Van Holden place, you’re gonna need it.  A few leaves of lettuce ain’t gonna get you through the door.”

    
Serenitee laughed warmly.  “You don’t have to talk me into it.  I’ll take that special with the cornbread and a glass of sweet tea.”

   
Mrs. Greene gave Serenitee’s hand another motherly pat.  “One special, comin’ up.  Since you’re gonna be here for a while, I consider you family.  Call me Rue.  Everybody around here does.”

    
“Thanks, Rue.”

    
Yeah, she just might like it here.

Chapter Two

     Filled to the gills with what Rue called ‘good ole Southern cookin’’, Serenitee felt she had absorbed enough calories to clean the entire town of Holden.  But, she would definitely do it again.  The food was the best she’d ever had.  They didn’t feed you like that up North. 

    
Serenitee walked to the back of her SUV and began unloading the supplies she bought at the local store.  She closed the door and hoisted the two large bags in her arms.

    
“Need any help?” asked a deep male voice.

    
Startled, Serenitee whirled around, dropping one of the bags.  Her supplies littered the ground at her feet.

    
He bent down and started picking up her supplies and putting them back into the paper sack.  When he finished, he grabbed the bag and gave her an apologetic smile.  “I’m sorry I scared you.  Here,” he said, reaching for her other bag.  “Let me take these in for you.”