Today I would like to welcome a special guest from Susan Shay's MAKE ME HOWL. Enjoy!
My name is Jazzy Cannis. I'm a successful wardrobe designer and personal shopper. Lucky me! I was born with a killer sense of style, biting sense of humor and an active Lycan gene.A very active Lycan gene.
I had life all figured out. I just had to stay in control all the time. I couldn't get too angry, too wild or too excited while making love or I'd wolf out. No prob.
Enter Chase Holliday, serious hunk. Mr. Always-In-Total-Control is an animal geneticist who's out to eradicate every werewolf on the planet. He thinks safety lies in making werewolves only the stuff of fairytales. To reach that goal, he works every spare moment isolating the Lycan gene.
Then he met me. The man in the iron will thought he could handle this wild woman. Snort!
I just made one little mistake—I forgot about the Blood Moon and, being in heat, I lost control and made love with Chase. That's when I learned that all wolves, even Lycans, mate for life.
Eternity with an emotionally crippled, uber restrained cold duck who barely registers a response when we make love? I don't think so. Even if it kills me, I'll find a way out. Or I'll Make him Howl.
Susan here. Well, Jazzy got my laptop again. Sorry about that. Not really. Jazzy's fun to hang with, so I don't really mind.
I don't know if non-writers hear voices in their heads, but writers definitely do. (My critique partners laugh because mine are so real to me.) While some of my inside-my-head characters are great to talk to when I need sleep, Jazzy isn't one.
Why? Well, she's always got some snarky remark, which keeps me on my toes. (Not a great position for sleep.) In order to gain a thimbleful of control, I wrote her book, MAKE ME HOWL, and I turned her loose.
Releasing a werewolf on purpose is never a good thing. But it's—uh—interesting. Want to read a little?
I took a moment to settle myself, to find my center. Arranging my hair so I was well covered, I gotto my knees, then sat on my heels. “You know, lastnight, when you and Doc abandoned me, Normanbecame a huge pest. He kept at me, wanting me todance with him.”
Bella’s “Um” irritated me. Annoyance tingled my exposed skin, running along my collarbone and down the insides of my arms.
“He wouldn’t leave me alone. It was so gross.” I straightened as angry lightning strikes marched down my back.
“Then he insisted I finish my drink because he wanted to buy me another. Bella, I thought I was going to have to decapitate him to get him to leave me alone. I decided to just take off and let you find another way home. But after I finished my drink—and I only had the one Doc bought me—I don’t remember anything. It’s as if I got lost in the night.”
I gathered my fury like a fiery orb in my chest. “You know I never have a memory lapse except during a blood moon phase or if I lose control. I wasn’t that angry.” A simple full moon hadn’t done that to me since I was three years old.
“That son of a cur must have slipped me a roofie.Why else would I have been out of control?” I allowed my rage to explode as I thought about the man putting a date rape drug in my drink.
My body stung as the bristles burst through my skin, but I exalted in the sensation as my face narrowed, then lengthened. I loved the feeling of my body shifting from human to wolf shape. There’s never anything better than the power surge as it filled my muscles.
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Question: Do you like traditional werewolf stories or outside the box stories best? And tell me why. ☺