title: Frostbite: A Werewolf Tale
author:  David Wellington 
description: Nipped by a wolf during an Arctic camping expedition, Cheyenne Clark suddenly finds herself feeling ferally frisky when the moon is up in Wellington's far from routine werewolf tale. It turns out that Monty Powell, the loner who gives Chey refuge, is no ordinary guy, but the werewolf who turned her. But then Chey is no ordinary camper: she was sent to draw Monty out by a band of professional hunters who want the oil beneath the vast acreage Monty prowlsand to avenge the death of her father, whom Monty coincidentally slaughtered two decades before. Wellington (<i>23 Hours</i>) gets surprising mileage out of this tortuously improbable plot, hinging it on Chey's difficulty choosing between the gun-toting human mercenaries who are using her as bait and Monty, a victim of supernatural circumstances who understands her plight better than anyone else. <i>(Oct.)</i> <br />Copyright  Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
zlib_text:   
  
  WEREWOLF SKIN
  
    
  
  Goosebumps - 60
  
  R.L. Stine
  
  (An Undead Scan v1.5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  1
  
    
    
  
  I stepped down from the bus and squinted into the sunlight. Shielding my eyes
  with one hand, I searched the small parking lot for Uncle Colin and Aunt
  Marta.
  
  I didn’t remember what they looked like. I hadn’t seen them since I was four,
  eight years ago.
  
  But the Wolf Creek bus station was so tiny. Just a little wooden shack in the
  middle of a big parking lot. I knew I couldn’t miss them.
  
  “How many suitcases?” the bus driver growled out of the side of his mouth.
  Despite the cold October air, he had a damp sweat stain on the back of his
  gray uniform.
  
  “Just one,” I said. I was the only passenger to get off at Wolf Creek.
  
  Across from the bus station, I saw a gas station and a one-block stretch of
  small stores. Beyond that, I could see the woods. The trees shimmered yellow
  and brown, the autumn leaves still clinging to their branches. Dry, brown
  leaves fluttered across the parking lot.
  
  The