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My name is Kane, and I am a six-foot-seven French Canadian. But one year ago, I was a wolf.
I was in the woods when a crazy soldier man bit me. The next morning, I awoke a human.
This was unexpected, for I have awoken many times not human, always wolf.
Perhaps I slept wrong.
Now, in lesser moon phases, I become lesser wolves. Dogs. One time, a pug. I do not wish to discuss the pug. And when the full moon touches my perfect skin, I become what my friend Emelda calls the Wolfwere. She says this is because I am a "reverse werewolf." I do not understand this phrase. It sounds like something you might find in a knock-off Kama Sutra book.
Emelda is human, but never wolf. This I do not hold against her.
She is my best friend, and together we are tracking down the soldier who bit me, because he also attacked people. And while he turned a wolf into a beautiful man, the humans he bit became something else. Something wrong. Something that must be destroyed before it destroys everyone around us.
Emelda says this is called "heroism." I would prefer to call it "not my problem," but she has opinions about this, often expressed at a surprisingly high volume.
To defeat these monsters and get my answers, I must become the Wolfwere. The problem is, each time I do, I grow even larger.
This destroys my t-shirts and jean pants.
It is, in other words, a battle to the death.
With wardrobe changes.
Genre: Urban Fantasy
I was in the woods when a crazy soldier man bit me. The next morning, I awoke a human.
This was unexpected, for I have awoken many times not human, always wolf.
Perhaps I slept wrong.
Now, in lesser moon phases, I become lesser wolves. Dogs. One time, a pug. I do not wish to discuss the pug. And when the full moon touches my perfect skin, I become what my friend Emelda calls the Wolfwere. She says this is because I am a "reverse werewolf." I do not understand this phrase. It sounds like something you might find in a knock-off Kama Sutra book.
Emelda is human, but never wolf. This I do not hold against her.
She is my best friend, and together we are tracking down the soldier who bit me, because he also attacked people. And while he turned a wolf into a beautiful man, the humans he bit became something else. Something wrong. Something that must be destroyed before it destroys everyone around us.
Emelda says this is called "heroism." I would prefer to call it "not my problem," but she has opinions about this, often expressed at a surprisingly high volume.
To defeat these monsters and get my answers, I must become the Wolfwere. The problem is, each time I do, I grow even larger.
This destroys my t-shirts and jean pants.
It is, in other words, a battle to the death.
With wardrobe changes.
Genre: Urban Fantasy
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