  Elena Michaels is the world’s only female werewolf. And she’s tired of it. Tired of a life spent hiding and protecting, a life where her most important job is hunting down rogue werewolves. Tired of a world that not only accepts the worst in her–her temper, her violence–but requires it. Worst of all, she realizes she’s growing content with that life, with being that person. So she left the Pack and returned to Toronto where she’s trying to live as a human. When the Pack leader calls asking for her help fighting a sudden uprising, she only agrees because she owes him. Once this is over, she’ll be squared with the Pack and free to live life as a human. Which is what she wants. Really. Author Bio: I’ve been telling stories since before I could write. My earliest written efforts were disastrous. If asked for a story about girls and dolls, mine would invariably feature undead girls and evil dolls, much to my teachers’ dismay. All efforts to make me produce “normal” stories failed. Today, I continue to spin tales of ghosts and demons and werewolves, while safely locked away in my basement writing dungeon. http://www.kelleyarmstrong.com/
 It was stood upright one moment. The next it was down on all fours running like a dog. I was terrified. This eyewitness report matches others coming from Hull (Kinston on Hull) in the East Riding of Yorkshire, England, where a legendary werewolf with bad breath named Old Stinker has apparently returned to feast on dogs and terrorize their owners. What’s the background of this 8-foot-tall monster and how did it get its halitosis reputation? According to local reports, the first of the most recent sightings of Old Stinker occurred around Christmas 2015 at an old water channel called the Barmston Drain. This industrial area has many of these man-made channels – the Barmston Drain was built in 1798 to drain salt marshes. According to this witness: It bounded along on all fours, then stopped and reared up on to its back legs, before running down the embankment towards the water. It vaulted 30 feet over to the other side and vanished up the embankment and over a wall into some allotments. The Barmston Drain where Old Stinker has been seen At least seven people in the same area have subsequently seen the creature, describing it as 8-feet-tall and looking and acting like a half-man-half-wolf. One couple claimed it was eating a German shepherd. The witnesses say this is a ‘full moon’ type of werewolf who keeps his human legs but whose upper body looks like a wolf. As a result, many brave and curious Hull residents are planning to set up cameras during the next full moon. If the creature is Old Stinker, he may be lost. The legend of this werewolf goes back centuries in the Yorkshire Wolds and the Wold Newton Triangle, an area 40 miles north of Hull where the last of England’s wild wolves once roamed. Tales of wolves digging up bodies in cemeteries contributed to the werewolf’s bad breath reputation. The last reported sighting until now occurred in the 1960s when a truck driver claimed his vehicle was attacked by a corpse-breathed werewolf. Hull is within a wolf’s range of the Wold Newton Triangle and has plenty of old abandoned factories for hiding. There’s enough fear of Old Stinker that a local politician has offered to keep track of sightings and report them to the Hull Council to take action. Anyone searching for Old Stinker should remember that he’s reportedly 8-feet tall Is Old Stinker back to dine on doggies in Hull? The ‘full moon’ transformation legend is a 20th century addition to the werewolf myth so some suspect it may just be a big dog seen in the dark by people with movie-fueled imaginations. England also has its share of alien big cats and there’s been talk of reintroducing wolves. Has someone already released one? Hull residents fearing an encounter with this werewolf might want to try a little kindness. Perhaps all Old Stinker is looking for is some floss and a mint. Source: http://mysteriousuniverse.org/2016/05/werewolf-named-old-stinker-terrorizes-english-town/
Moon Fever
M.R. Wallace “Wow,” Marcus breathed, peering up between the trees to see the gargantuan yellow moon overhead. He prodded his date with an elbow and pointed skyward. She shrugged him off before following his finger. “Jesus,” Gemma said. “I’ve never seen the moon look like that.” It was a harmless lie. He was trying to be romantic, despite his clumsiness at doing so. She didn’t want him to get discouraged. He was kind of cute, with blue eyes and long black hair. He certainly made an attractive counterpoint to her hazel and blonde combination. She watched her feet carefully, following Marcus as he navigated the forest path with his flashlight. Soon, they broke into a small clearing. Gemma stopped and stared at the scene before her. The entire place had been cleared of pine cones and branches, sitting in a large pile off to the side. There was a large pile of blankets centered in the grove, giving a perfect view of the swollen moon’s face. Marcus turned to face her, adjusting his glasses before gesturing to the scene around them. “What do you think?” He took her hands and pulled her closer. Gemma could smell him, his deodorant and shampoo smelled manly and clean, contrasted by the sweat he’d worked up bringing her here. It smelled manly too, but in a more earthy and natural way. She inhaled deeply. “I love it,” Gemma replied, her voice coming out huskier than she’d expected. She pulled Marcus closer and pressed her lips to his. Heat surged through her, leaving her skin flushed. She was breathing heavily as he pulled away, taking her hand and guiding her to the blankets. He sat down and pulled her to him. She landed in his lap, squealing in surprise and delight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “So,” she spoke softly into his ear, “did you know that the moon supposedly makes people crazy?” “How so?” Marcus asked, putting one hand on her hip and the other behind her back to press her into him. She was warm, almost feverishly so. He could see the scarlet blush of her skin under just the moonlight. “Do you have a fever? You’re awfully warm.” Gemma giggled at that, raking her fingernails through his hair. “No,” she breathed against his neck, “I don’t have a fever.” She kissed, hot lips pressing hard to his flesh. Under her tongue she could feel the goosebumps raise his skin. She smiled and kept kissing, moving up his neck to his jaw. She nibbled, feeling her lower lip drag across the short stubble of his face. “As I was saying,” she whispered between kisses, “the moon makes people crazy.” She smiled again, her lips now brushing his. “I’m beginning to see that.” Marcus replied, unable to suppress his own grin. He had the feeling that Gemma was a wild one, but his midnight forest gambit was paying off far better than he’d honestly expected. “Does it do anything besides make you want to screw me?” Gemma sat back, pulling far enough away from him to lightly smack his face. “Naughty.” She admonished, giving her lip a little bite. “Yes. It’s where the words lunacy and lunatic come from.” “Mmhmm,” Marcus mumbled, pulling her to him by the back of her neck. She curled her fingers in his hair in response, a thrill running perceptibly up her spine. “It has also been linked to.. “ she let the statement hang for a moment, using the time to kiss him again, their tongues finally meeting. She moaned into his mouth before sitting back on his lap again. “Linked to sexual promiscuity and other,” Gemma let go of him to start slipping out of her tank top, “unscrupulous activities.” The little black top came up over her head and off, discarded onto the blanket next to them. She shifted her legs, moving from sitting across his lap to straddling him. “I can see that too.” Marcus dug his fingers into the back of her neck. “Help me with this?” He let go, putting his arms up and waiting for Gemma to pull his shirt over his head. Instead, she pushed his arms back down. He glanced at her quizzically before she grabbed the t-shirt’s collar and ripped the blue fabric from neck to stomach in one hard pull. Marcus yelped, more from shock than anything else. Gemma growled low in her throat, an animalistic sound that raised the hairs on Marcus’ neck. God she was freaky. Her nails dragged down his torso, ending at the bottom of his ruined shirt where it stubbornly clung together. She gripped the sides and tore it the rest of the way apart, laying his entire abdomen bare. She leaned close, digging her nails into his chest and biting at his collarbone. He could feel his own face smoldering with heat as he reacted to her attentions. “You know what else the moon is connected to?” She was speaking as she trailed down his chest, her lips brushing his skin lightly. Her path cooled in the night air as she went lower. It was hard for him to think straight. Marcus stuttered for a second before his mind gave him the only answer he could find at the second. “Werewolves?” He asked. Gemma bit him just above the belly button, a sharp sting that made him jump, inhaling with a hiss. Then she licked and kissed, soothing the marks she’d left. “That’s right,” she replied, pulling herself back up to sit on his hips. She leaned back in the moonlight, the faint yellow glow washing over her pale flesh. Marcus stared, hypnotized. He’d had sex with other girls, but Gemma was definitely special. He ran his hands up her flat stomach to her breasts. “I fucking love werewolves.” She said. “Really,” Marcus replied, his own mind on just about anything but werewolves. “Yes.” She ground her hips against him, ignoring his belt buckle as it prodded at her. “They’re so strong, animalistic, brutal. They’re just sexy. And then there’s the whole moon connection.” She leaned down close over Marcus’ face. “You know my favorite kind of werewolf?” He shook his head. He was tiring of werewolf talk and wanted to get to the screaming. He put his hands around Gemma’s throat and squeezed a little. Her mouth opened in a smile and he could see her teeth. They were brilliantly white and gleaming. He couldn’t help but notice that they looked sharp. She put her hands around his and squeezed tighter, her blood singing in her ears with the treatment. She moaned loudly, a sound that reverberated in her petite chest and vibrated against Marcus’ palms. Her hands slid down his arms to his biceps. “Lycanthropes.” She breathed, fighting through the pressure around her throat to utter the word. Her voice was hoarse as she arched her back in the moonlight. “They’ve got all the advantages of a werewolf without all that fur. What do you think?” “Uh huh,” Marcus grunted, the discomfort in his jeans now at an apex and needing to be remedied soon. “God,” Gemma whispered, “I can hear it.” Her head cocked to the side. She squeezed his biceps. “I can feel it. I need it.” “What?” He muttered, his face and chest were burning with heat and he felt the need to just tear into her already, devour her completely. “Your blood.” He paused. Gemma slammed his arms to the ground, pinning them effortlessly to the blanket. She leaned over his face again. Her teeth were huge, sharp spines of ivory that pressed her lips apart. Her eyes glowed bright in the moonlight, reflecting its pale yellow hue in their burning depths. Her chest rumbled, visibly shuddering. Marcus felt his bowels let go, the warmth soaking his jeans. Gemma lunged, her jaw popping like a python’s as she clamped her dagger like teeth around Marcus’ throat. She shook ferociously, tearing through the walls of the big blood vessels. The hot fluid coated her mouth, pumping down her throat in a coppery wash of burning ecstasy. When the blood finally stopped flowing, she licked the wound clean. Exhausted, Gemma slid off of Marcus’ slowly cooling stomach and rested her head against his unmoving chest. She wiped her face, smearing the sticky blood down her neck and chest. She gazed up at the full moon. Its wan light prickled against her flesh, bristling her body hairs and sending a pleasurable thrill across her body. Gemma jerked up, her body arching off of its resting place. Her jaw fell open and she bayed at the face of the yellow moon, a deep, sardonic howl that echoed through the forest around her. Thousands of tiny animals scattered in every direction. She laid her head back down on the fleshy pillow that may have ended up being her lover, had he chosen a different night to be romantic. She traced a circle around her belly with one fingernail, prodding here and there to listen to the blood slosh within. Gemma smiled, placing one of Marcus’ arms over her, chewing at it thoughtlessly while she drifted into a languorous slumber.  Mercedes is a Volkswagen mechanic living in the Tri-Cities area of Washington. Her Native American heritage has gifted her with the ability to take the form of a coyote at will. She's surrounded by far more powerful supernatural beings, including werewolves, vampires and an assortment of fey.
Bio: Patricia Briggs, the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson series, lives in Washington State with her husband, children, and a small herd of horses. She has written 17 novels to date. Briggs began her career writing traditional fantasy novels, the first of which was published by Ace Books in 1993, and shifted gears in 2006 to write urban fantasy. In Fall 2010, Patricia made another foray into traditional fantasy, when Ace published a revised version of her very first book, Masques (2010), and its never-before-published sequel, Wolfsbane (2010), both of which debuted on the New York Times bestsellers list for Mass Market Fiction. In 2006, Ace Books published Moon Called, the first book in her #1 New York Times bestselling—and signature series—about Mercy Thompson. The non-stop adventure left readers wanting more and word of this exciting new urban fantasy series about a shape-shifting mechanic spread quickly. Blood Bound(2007), the second book in the series, debuted at #12 on the New York Times bestsellers list. After the incredible success of Iron Kissed (2008), which landed at #1 on the New York Times list, the Mercy Thompson saga continued to win the hearts of readers and grew in popularity with the release of each book. Bone Crossed (2009), the fourth book in the series and first to be published in hardcover, debuted at #3 on the New York Times Hardcover bestsellers list, where it stayed for four weeks. The most recent hardcover, Silver Borne (2010), debuted at #1 on the New York Times Hardcover bestsellers list and stayed on the printed list for a total of three weeks! Briggs also writes the Alpha and Omega series, which are set in the same world as the Mercy Thompson novels. What began as the novella “Alpha and Omega” in an anthology called On the Prowl (2007), was then expanded into a full new series. The subsequent books were Cry Wolf (2008) and Hunting Ground(2009), both New York Times bestsellers. The third book of the Alpha and Omega series is Fair Game (2012) and debuted at #4 on the New York Times bestsellers list. http://www.patriciabriggs.com/ Wolf Cove. Matthew Wolf Kane A rocky and abandoned cove, tucked away on a rocky treacherous coast line hides a wolfie secret. Locals know...sailors know...but this new breed of water loving adventure seekers don't know. Surfers, kayakers, they don't know, but soon they will be forced to know the secrets dwelling in the craggy caves of Wolf Cove. What awaited them was death, vicious death by the claws of the werewolf that lived in the cave. It was once a human until its sixteenth birthday, when it changed to the werewolf that killed people from outside town. When the surfboards and kayaks started to appear upon the shores of the less secluded coves, with pieces of gristle and bone embedded into them, and huge rents where claws had grabbed a hold of the unfortunate occupants, the townsfolk hid the boards and pleasure craft. But one day, into town strode Tommy Doyle. Tommy was a spoilt rich kid, used to getting what he wanted, and what Tommy wanted more than anything right now was Krista Myers. Blonde, lithe and beautiful, Krista was an enigma; man did he want her. But Krista Myers had disappeared, off the waters of Wolf Cove, and Tommy wanted to know why... He went around town with a photo of Krista; half of the locals would not stop when he asked if they had seen her around. He walked and walked until it got dark. He spotted a woman acting oddly with a sack over her shoulder. Tommy ran up behind the woman and grabbed her by the shoulder, with the thought to spin her around to face him. Next thing he knew, he was lying on his back at the feet of a woman that could have at one time been stunning, except now, half her face appeared to be missing, a slit for a nostril, a lidless eye that was opaque with blindness, and a ragged hole where her the other half of her scarlet lips had once been. Tommy looked up and anger mounted. "The fuck did ya do that for?" he shouted at the stranger. "Stupid bitch coulda broken my back!" The woman looked down upon him, and spoke with a voice that was as melodic as the dawn chorus. "The information ye be seeking lies within yonder ale house laddie, not many folks around here will be tellin ye the truth, but Sid, he will. He claims to be a direct descendant of Rodmar and Asgot. He'll be tellin ye the truth such as ‘tis. Ye be tellin’ him Milly sent ye. Now away with ye now, get your mission done on this night, for the morrow brings the full moon, and ye dunna wanna be here in Wolf Cove then...” Tommy jumped up, holding his nose as he backed away and watched the woman walking off with her sack. Tommy stole a small boat from the harbour and made his way out to Wolf Cove. The sea was covered with a fog, forming right in front of his eyes; he could feel the fog coming from the sea as he lost sight of the town. There was no turning back now, even though he was scared of what he might find at the end of the fog. Through the fog he could see the near full moon. He wished that he brought his fur jacket with him on this trip to keep him warm. Tommy let the boat sail as he tried to rub his hands together to warm them back up. As Tommy sailed further out to sea, the fog thickened, he was wet and freezing cold…and bloody hell! There was a hole in the damn boat! Tommy reached down with his hands and attempted to propel himself faster. As he did so, suddenly the fog parted slightly, and Tommy was startled to see a surfer pulling moves out on the water. “Mate, hey mate!" he yelled, but the surfer ignored his calls. Tommy paddled closer to the surfer and tried again. "Oi, what you doing out here in this, you nutter?" he called, Still no answer. Anger filled Tommy at this ignorance, and he finally reached the surfer, but when he did, he wished he hadn’t. This surfer was dead, or rather undead, or a spectre of a surfer or something not of this world; possibly a demon surfer, and reminiscent of the strange woman with the stinking sack, this dead guy, who was somehow fucking surfing while dead, only had half a face, but his had not healed. Tommy could see brains, skull and a pierced hanging eyeball!! Screaming now, Tommy plunged into the icy water, and started to sink beneath the waves. As his lungs took in water and he began to sink, he fancied he could see Krista's beautiful face waiting for him. He was drifting into oblivion when strong hands yanked him from his watery near grave and dumped him upon the shore. “Ye silly little fucker," shouted the gnarled and grizzled man who was now pumping the water from Tommy’s lungs, "Di’nt Milly tell ye to stay away from the Cove? Ghosts out there laddie, and ye nearly joined them this night”... "I be Sid,” said the man throwing Tommy over his shoulder, "And ye silly wee fucker are coming to my ale house with me ‘n’ I gonnea tell ye a tale." The grizzled man gave Tommy a boating sheet to wrap around him to keep warm. He watched the guy boiling some water. A few times, the guy would look right at Tommy and smile at him, revealing that he was missing his front teeth. ‘Who are you?” Tommy asked, as he reached a hand out to take hold of the cup of hot tea. "I be t'watchman, for years I've watched over the cove," the old man replied. "Many years ago, thousands in fact, two brothers sailed into these parts and settled, but here there be monsters and strange ‘appenins, and the two brothers, they both wanted to be the better, they parted ways, bitterly. Rodmar was walking one day in the woods and was bitten by a wolf like creature; he thought nowt of it till next full moon, when he turned into a part beast with bloodlust, but Rodmar was inherently good, and tried to keep away from folks when he did the shiftin’, but what happened to his brother Asgot was entirely diffrnt laddie, Asgot was inherently bad." Wide eyed, Tommy was enthralled by the watchman’s tale. “What happened to Asgot?" He blurted through chattering teeth. "Well, Asgot was attacked by a thing called a Draugr on an island of death. It was him and three people that escaped with their lives. But, they had to fight against the sea, and the sea won and sent them overboard, to be washed up and rescued by village people." The watchman took a sip of his tea and started again. "Slowly, one of them changed into a monster and killed for blood to make them stronger than before. Soon, they all went through the changes and they too killed for blood, Asgot was the last; he killed the leader of the village. Not a lot is known where they went after. He was heading home to his father. Wherever he went first, he got worse as a monster. He wanted to know why his father chose his brother over him." Tommy was completely enthralled by the watchman’s tale, but he was also still wondering about Krista. “Look mate, please, nobody else will help me; most won't even answer me. Have you seen this girl? She will have been missing exactly a month tomorrow / today; whatever the fucking day it is, I need to find her, I must." Sid took the photo from Tommy's hand and looked carefully at it. “Pretty wee thing, your intended?" he asked Tommy. "Nope," replied Tommy. “Intended lay maybe," but he immediately felt contrite for his crassness. “I fancy there may be a deeper feeling in your heart for this ‘ere lassie than you be lettin’ on boy," chuckled Sid. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell ye, but chances of yer wee lassie bein ere in t'cove still are slim. There be strange ‘appenins ‘ere abouts to this very day. Cove history holds nowt but tales of monsters and bloodshed. Ye see that there lassie you got flipped onto yer arse by? Milly? You caught a whiff of her sack? Yup, thought ye musta, she does that every other night, to appease that which lives in the caves of the cove, mutations and inbreedin’ between the monsters down the generations have led to the horror ye will find in yonder caves t'day. Descended from generations of cross breedin’, we have a monster so terrible, none but me speak of it, ‘n’ if the bonnie wee lassie in that photo has been yer ‘n’ disappeared, there will be no hope for her. I'm sorry laddie, but she will likely be dead ‘n’ eaten now." Tommy stared at the old watchman in disbelief. “You fucking crazy old man!! You want me to believe you have some Viking werewolf/vampire cross creature living here, killing these surfers? How can you say shit like that? You chatting shit man!!" Sid looked at Tommy not unkindly, but spoke with more conviction than before. "Boy, what I tell ye be the truth. I know it to be so, because yonder monster is none other than my own child! The were curse skips a generation, my own father was a lycanthropic vampire, and so is my only child." Tommy jumped up and grabbed hold of the watchman’s throat. "I want you to tell me where Krista is." His grip was getting tighter. "Are you going to tell me where Krista is?" The watchman nodded at Tommy. "Good. You better start talking old man." "This lassie ye spoke of is likely in t'cave just up t' hill from here with my son. She may still be alive if you hurry now laddie, fir when that hand hits midnight, t’woman ye love may…just may, be turned like my son so's he can breed children what be just like him." Tommy could not hold back his rage anymore, so he slapped the watchman across the face, and then heard a howl echoing through the night sky. “I don’t think that will be happening tonight, mate.” Tommy noticed an axe hanging proudly on the ale house wall. "And I can use that to kill your beloved son before he touches her." It was not even hard to find the cave when the howling was echoing through the air and guided him right to the entrance. 'Krista, just hold on love. I’m coming to save you from this monster,' Tommy thought in the back of his head. 'Your knight is going to fucking save you and we will live ever happy with our children.’ As soon as he set foot into the cave, he could hear the watchman shouting at him not to go any further in. He swore he heard something about his death, but Tommy was not going to stand around and listen to him, no, he had to go and save the woman he loved from this monster that wanted to turn her like it. He knew he was getting closer as the howling was getting louder. It was then that he saw a shadow of a something run in front of him that made him step back and he felt something on his shoulder. Tommy turned around and used the top of the axe to hit whatever was behind him. Tommy had knocked the watchman to the floor of the cave, his nose was bleeding. "Ye must turn back now…before he sees ye an’ kills ye for gettin in the way of his desires." "Shut your god damn mouth! I’ve come to find the woman I love, and take her back home where she belongs.’ ‘It’s too late now…once the clouds move out of the way of the full moon…it will start and there will be no way of stopping this. Tommy clapped his hands over his ears. Between the howling, the crashing of the sea and the old watchman's entreaties, he was getting a crushing headache. He slowly turned a corner in the cave which then opened up into a chamber, and laying face down on the floor, wearing just a bikini top and nothing else, was Krista. At first, he though she was dead, and he staggered back stunned when he saw what had happened to her beautiful face as he turned her over. Krista was missing half her face. Tommy screamed his distress and then caught his breath as he saw the smallest movement of her chest as she breathed shallowly. Tommy prepared to hoist her over his shoulder and get her out of here, when he heard the old watchman scream. Placing Krista back down gently, he ran towards the sound. The watchman was there, his face was half gone, and there was a nightmare creature hunched over him. When the creature spotted Tommy, its blood soaked maw opened wider, in a suggestion of the evil it intended to do here this night. Tommy scrabbled around behind himself until he found the axe from the ale house wall. Adrenaline running wild in his veins now, he chased the man beast to the next chamber. Fury ran through Tommy as he thought of the beauty that had been stolen from Krista, and through that fury, Tommy Doyle found the strength to repeatedly swing the axe into the body of this werewolf/werevampire being, dismembering it so thoroughly that its parts were scattered all around the cave chamber. He dropped the axe and was about to make his way back to Krista, when he heard a sound that made him freeze in disbelief - howling! A different pitch of howl this was, but a howl all the same, and it was close… by heck was it close! Tommy rounded the corner back into the first chamber and screamed. The once beautiful Krista was hunched over the now definitely dead watchman, dragging out entrails and consuming them. The half of her beautiful face not missing was now covered in a grey fur, her cherry red lips were now an elongated snout, and her remaining eye was wild with the madness. There was a flicker of recognition as she looked at Tommy, and Tommy took advantage of this and slipped out of the cave. As he went, he picked up the axe, the sack he found laying on the floor, and made his way back down the treacherous cliffs to the shore. He then turned and headed for the ale house. So now, when travellers or adventure seekers come to Wolf Cove, it is none other than Tommy Doyle who draws them a pint of ale and tells them the tales of why they should avoid yonder cove and its mysterious caves. It is Tommy Doyle that now helps Milly collect any roadkill they can find, for Milly to deposit outside the cave in her stinking sack. Tommy Doyle must now pay the price for falling in love, for in yonder cave dwells the object of his affection. Every full moon, she howls the night away, and Tommy Doyle, watchman of Wolf Cove does what he can to protect the adventurers that will surely meet their deaths, if they don't respect the evil, that is Wolf Cove.  1. Tell us a little about your novel
Wherewolves is a thought provoking, intense and actioned packed horror in the vein of an Agatha Christie mystery where you’re trying to figure out whodunit until the very end. It’s the story of a group of high school seniors and their teacher on a survival training weekend. 2. What sets your werewolves apart from the rest of the pack? Wherewolves is a realistic werewolf horror. J Also, we’ve been told that the dialogue is slick and fresh and that the plot-twists are lots of fun. 3. If you could shapeshift into any animal – what would it be? Olga: Hawk John: Lion 4. Tell us something nobody know about you Few people know that many moons ago a reputed national Arts radio and television program ranked us among the top ten actors in the country. 5. What’s next for you? We keep talking about writing a sequel to Wherewolves, Wherewolves Too. We have notes all over our walls… Hopefully the tides will take us there this year. http://www.wherewolvestheblog.com http://www.wherewolvestheblog.comhttp://www.wherewolvestheblog.comhttp://www.wherewolvestheblog.com  Eden is hunter territory. So why are the Werewolves so desperate to reclaim it? Cheyenne Martin comes from a long line of hunters. When her classmate Noah is attacked, she goes after the Weres responsible. She uncovers a plot to create a new race of Weres from humans. With the Alpha trying to get her to join them and her father trying to stop her from hunting, it is up to Cheyenne to stop them herself before its too late. Bio: My name is Kat Gracey, I live in the UK and I write supernatural novels featuring witches and werewolves, my two favourite supernatural beings. My website is www.witchesandwerewolves.co.uk 1. Tell us a little about your novel
Werewolves of Eden: Wild Things was my first novel. Cheyenne Martin is the daughter of a werewolf hunter. She has been raised to hate them and wants to be a hunter herself, but her father is against the idea. When her classmate is turned, she tries to find a way to help him. 2. What sets your werewolves apart from the rest of the pack? My werewolves cannot pass the curse on with a bite, they are born. But an Alpha decides to create a serum to turn humans so he can increase their numbers. Noah fights what is happening to him, but it also gives him the opportunity to be stronger. 3. If you could shapeshift into any animal – what would it be? A were cat! Probably a panther. 4. Tell us something nobody knows about you I have a weird taste in music. I like 90's pop, songs from musicals, rock, jazz - basically an eclectic mix. I set up playlists for writing. 5. What’s next for you? I am working on a novel that features a Skinwalker in it. Hopefully I will be able to release it later this year.  One of the most iconic werewolf movies of all time. An American Werewolf in London (1981) featured the main character, David, transforming into a werewolf on screen. Bitten by a beast on the moors, David tries to save the woman he loves from what he has become.  Another werewolf classic, The Howling was also released in 1981. After a bizarre and near fatal encounter with a serial killer, a television newswoman is sent to a remote mountain resort whose residents may not be what they seem.  Sisters Brigitte and Ginger, struggle with Ginger's transformation into a werewolf in Ginger Snaps (2000). They try to find a cure as Ginger's behavior grows more disturbing.  A very British horror movie, Dog Soldiers (2002) was very popular. It featured a group of soldiers who come face to face with a murderous werewolf and struggle to survive the night.  Cursed (2005) features a brother and sister who are attacked by a werewolf in Los Angeles. The only way they can be free of their curse is to kill the one that bit them.
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About the Author:S. K. Gregory is an author, editor and blogger. She currently resides in Northern Ireland. “Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.” 
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