My mama used to say, “You’re not just wolfin!” That meant, she agreed whole heartedly with whatever you’d said. I have no idea where the saying came from. (Anyone?)
I sent a story off to The Wild Rose Press where I am just wolfing. I call the book, “Make Me Howl”. It’s about a woman who was born a werewolf. (Yeah, I know. I’m writing Inspirational now. But I figure I have this book just sitting in my computer. Might as well see if it’s any good.)
“Make Me Howl” is a light paranormal, with a different twist on what a werewolf actually is. My heroine, Jazzy Cannis, was born with an active werewolf gene, lives in Dallas and is a fashion consultant and personal shopper. She says being a werewolf gives her “A biting sense of humor and a killer sense of style, so it’s all good.”
She lives with her twin sister, Bella, who got stuck with the gene for straight-as-a-stick hair, so everything evens out in the end. Bella is a veteranarian at a drive-through zoo, and works with fellow veteranarian Chase Holliday. (Yep. He’s Doc Holliday.)
The good news is, Doc believes in werewolves. The bad news is, he’s wants to eradicate them from face of the earth.
I’m not sure where I got the idea for MMH. Maybe it was Miss Molly’s tyrany here at the house. (She’s the queen of the castle and rules with an iron paw.)
Here’s a snippet of Jazzy.
“You’re in the isolation cage here at Safari Land. And I don’t know where your clothes are.”
“Who put me here and why haven’t you gotten me out?” I would have shouted, but my throat hurt too much. That should have been a clue, but I couldn’t begin to imagine it.
“Tony locked you up until the zoo officials could decide what to do with you.” She lost all her anger, then looked to her right and left. “And you aren’t out because this is quarantine. Doc has the only key.”
Although I’ll never admit it to Bella or any of the rest of my family, when my hair is at its longest, I’m not always the sharpest stiletto on the shelf. Of course, when I draw it in all the way, I get a little fuzzy minded, so it all evens out as Grandma used to say. Today was one of those dull stiletto days. But shortening my locks to regain my reasoning powers would mean exposing too much of my body. “Why did Tony lock me up?”
“You treed Norman on his car.”
I tried to comprehend what she was saying. And I have to be honest, it took a moment. Or two. “I’m sure he deserved it.”
As she nodded, her face clouded until I thought she was going to cry. “Tony thought you were a wild Mexican Gray.”
“I must have had Jose Eber go too heavy on the highlights the last time.” I gave a quick shrug. “It could have been worse. He could have thought I was an Arctic.”
That infuriated her. “How can you make jokes at a time like this?”
I have to admit, my temper was a little short that morning. “What do you want me to do? Bite someone?”
Then we heard voices.
Bella’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide with horror as she looked around. “Doc’s coming back, and Norman’s with him. You’d better go primal. Quick.”
As if it was that easy. I couldn’t just wiggle my nose like some TV witch—I had to allow myself to release. And after a lifetime of learning control, that wasn’t easy.
I took a moment to settle myself, to find my center. Arranging my hair so I was well covered, I got to my knees, then sat on my heels. “You know, last night, when you and Doc abandoned me, Norman became a huge pest. He kept at me, wanting me to dance with him.”
Bella’s “Um,” was irritating.
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 leave 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 fills my muscles. It’s exhilarating.
So, you’ve met Jazzy. What do you think?