TWISTED FATES BOOK 1: THE FIRST TWIST

rear-view mirror as he pulled the car away from the curb and into traffic.
"Meh." I groaned. "It was OK, up until someone got greedy and broke the rules."
Goddamn, I couldn't wait to get home into my own fucking bed. What a night.
Happy fucking New Year ...
As I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the backseat's headrest, my mind drifted to the night club I had been at earlier this evening, back to the stunning woman that briefly caught my attention, or rather my wolf's attention. She was unquestionably hot. She was a right foot shorter than me, from what I could tell. Probably a C cup and had what appeared to be a tight, slightly tanned, and very fit body. The beauty was sporting a sexy little black dress, and some serious fuck me pumps. Pretty sure she'd be a great lay. But that wasn't what made her appealing to me. It was the fact that she had this incredibly bright red hair, that on anybody else would probably look fucking ridiculous, and the most amazing emerald green eyes I had ever seen.
With that fiery red hair and those green eyes, for some odd reason, she reminded me of ... Christmas.
I recalled there was a brief second in which I was utterly fascinated by her. It seemed as if I had recognized her from somewhere, especially that beautiful smile she offered me.
But, just as quickly as she enchanted me, the lure I felt towards her simply vanished. So, I dismissed the inclination to introduce myself and returned my attention to the sure thing next to me. The little wild cat had made sure to provide me a full-on view of the ample cleavage of her double D's as she clung to my arm.
The weirdest thing, though, I could have sworn I heard a mournful whimper coming from Slade at that exact moment.

Chapter 7
Sammie's POV
Back to the Present
I awoke to the sound of my alarm going off a bit too early for my taste. 6:00 am.
Ish
What the hell!
I pressed my palms on the side of my temples and tried to keep the headache that was threatening my sanity at bay. Slowly I attempted to get out of bed; I felt like shit.
I was incredibly hungover.
How much did I drink last night?
How the hell did I even get home? I definitely needed to ask my drinking buddies about that.
Massaging my temples, I recalled having the strangest dream. I was with my BFF Jay, who'd passed away three years ago, and he was going all ga ga over some hot guys at a night club we were at ... but everything was all a blur. The only thing besides Jay that I could remember was concerning one of the three men he was gawking at. There was something about that man’s ice-blue eyes that remained burned in my memory, and abrupt emptiness overcame my senses when I tried to remember him. Why did my own eyes feel as if I had been crying?
Weird ...
No sense in dwelling on my odd dream since I had a busy day ahead of me, I reminded myself. I needed to get my hung-over ass in gear if I was going to make it to my appointment with my client, Justin, on time.
I'll just have to remember to ask Dasha what she thinks seeing Jay in my dreams might mean. She was into all that new age stuff and might have some insight. Maybe he's trying to say he's still watching over me, but in the company of hot men ... lol
I jumped in the shower and let the hot water ease my aching muscles as I closed my eyes and rested my palms on the cool, beige tiled shower wall.
Note to self, do not stay out late drinking with the girls on a weeknight. That shit is deadly.
Luckily for me, my job did not require me to have to worry about my attire too much. After a quick blow-dry, I pulled my shoulder-length pastel pink hair, which I have sported for the past three years in honor of Jay, up into a ponytail. I slipped on my workout gear, which consisted of a pair of hot pink skintight Lycra yoga pants with a matching sports bra that hugged my toned body like a second skin and my Puma cross-trainers.
God, I totally loved my job.
After a quick cup of coffee, I grabbed my sports bottle out of the fridge, my gym bag, and my keys, then headed out the door of my newly acquired Condo. With a sense of self-pride, I made my way down to the underground garage and hopped in my red Mercedes. I then clipped on my Dolce sunglasses and headed towards my destination.
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Today I had an appointment with a well-known and incredibly sexy WWF fighter. During one of his exhibitions, he tore his rotator cuff. Luckily, the injury didn't require surgery to fix but still had done enough damage to prevent him from fighting for several months. I've been working with him on the healing process for two months already and could certainly see the improvements he's made thus far. I knew his goal was to get back in the ring as soon as possible, but he still had a couple of more months of therapy to go before that was even considered. Of course, this was fine by me since I'd also been enjoying our other physical activities in the process.
That man can smack my ass down any time. Grr baby, grr.
Today was not going to be one of my extended visits with Justin, however. He had a flight to catch and some WWF convention to make an appearance at.
After his workout, I sang the usual praise about how well he was doing with the exercises I had prepared for him as part of his continual strengthening