One of my favorite characters in The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf series arrives in Chains of Silver. Nick is a vampire
hunter who falls for his best friend’s little sister.
As I writer, I hit my stride with this book and its
storytelling. Check out the awesome book trailer created by Lex Valentine.
The Vampire, The Witch
& The Werewolf: Chains of Silver
Adopted at birth, Silver Ashe discovers her blood-brother
Trevor Pack is a werewolf, with a vampire and witch for lovers. All her
teachings about the evils of the paranormal Others come into question. She runs
to a family friend, Nick, for help.
Nick Stake takes his hobby as a vampire hunter personally.
He strives to rid the world of evil bloodsuckers. When his best friend’s “kid”
sister comes to him for advice, Nick discovers Silver’s more than grown up. He
battles his growing desire for Silver and blindly holds true to his
convictions.
Once Silver reaches her sexual maturity, she’ll inherit her
full genetic heritage and turn into a werewolf. When death comes calling, Silver
and Nick must face their darkest fears in order to break free from the chains
that bind.
Oooh, Annabeth is a writer completely after my own heart ... werewolves and all. She's hosting a contest of this delish release, so make sure to leave a comment and email addy!
Many
thanks to Louisa Bacio for graciously hosting me!
I'm
a scientifically minded person, so when I sat down to write a werewolf story,
the first thing I did was look up the locations of wolf populations in the
United States, where I live. While I'm sure a werewolf could immigrate anywhere
he or she pleased, I wanted a place for my werewolves to blend in with the
local population of mundane creatures.
I
quickly uncovered how limited my choices were going to be. According to the
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, gray wolves do well in many habitats, including
prairie, forest, mountains and wetlands. The continental U.S. used to be one
big stomping ground — they were pretty much everywhere except for parts of
California, the Southeast, and the mid-Atlantic states. But in the early part
of the 20th century, they nearly died out. While they were taken off the
endangered species list in the Western Great Lakes region earlier this year,
outside of that area (Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan), you just aren't
going to find a lot of wolves in a lot of places.
Running
down population figures for gray wolves in the United States, Montana caught my
eye. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service recorded, as of December 2010, 1,651
gray wolves in the Northern Rocky Mountain region, of which more than 500 are
in Montana. That's tiny compared to the nearly 3,000 it estimates live in
Minnesota, but it's a pretty significant population for an area outside of the
Western Great Lakes.
I
visited Montana in the summer of 2006, and came away with a vivid impression of
rolling red hills and fast highways and towns where you didn't need much in the
way of entertainment because you had the view. The more I thought about it, the
more I wanted to put my story there.
I've
lived most of my life on the East Coast with an embarrassing lack of knowledge
about the names of trees or which vegetables could be local or which kinds of
birds are waking me up in the morning. Montana brought me much closer to the
greater reality waiting at the edge of every city — that the earth is a wild
place beyond human plans or understanding. I could think of no better setting
for a paranormal novella about the struggle between societal law and the beast within.
This is how Not His Territory came to
take place in the Northwest United States, days of driving away from where I
sat to write it down.
It's
clear from what I've written that I don't follow environmental issues as much
as I might wish. Only in researching the story did I learn about the history
and current situation of gray wolves. Still, considering that for me werewolves
symbolize a wild and necessary freedom, it saddens me to see how their
real-life counterparts have been driven to a few corners of a land they used to
own.
Excerpt:
"Can
I take off his marking? I'm glad it kept you safe, but I'm not his territory.
It's not his house. I pay for it."
Raul's
eyes took on a strange weight. Chandra shivered, too aware of his body. "I
wish it were that simple."
"Why
isn't it? I can buy spray paint and cover up his mark."
"A
territory dispute must be resolved on the full moon in the ancient way."
"The
ancient way?"
"A
challenge. A battle for control. It's done in fully shifted form."
"Well,
I'm not a werewolf. What am I supposed to do?"
"We're
set up to be self-policing. Your ex shouldn't be behaving the way he is.
Marriages to humans are somewhat frowned upon and are supposed to be done with
full knowledge and consent on the part of the human. This obviously wasn't how
he did it with you, since you know nothing of our customs. A human has good
reason to be wary of marrying one of us, though. Werewolf law often resorts to
the ancient way for final arbitration. A human is at a disadvantage in any
dispute with one of us. It's much easier when we keep to ourselves." Both
of Raul's hands gripped the tablecloth now. Chandra wondered what part of this
upset him so much.
"So
you're saying he shouldn't have married me."
"Not
if he planned to treat you this way." Raul's voice came out as a snarl.
"I
mean, because it breaks werewolf law."
"It's
not that a werewolf can't be with a human," Raul said. His emphasis on the
words "be with" sent a chill down her inner thighs. "It just
needs to be done properly." Now Chandra grabbed her own handful of
tablecloth. She needed to figure out how to get free of her ex, not become
distracted wondering what Raul would consider the "proper" way to be
with a human.
"Okay,
well." Chandra's voice shook. She forced herself to look at a spot on the
wall beyond Raul. If she looked directly at the man, she'd be off on another
fantasy before she knew what hit her. "Since that's water under the bridge
at this point, isn't there any way to dispute his claim on my house?"
Raul's
hand brushed hers. Chandra jumped. "Another werewolf could dispute on your
behalf. I could do that for you. If you wanted. I owe you my life as it
is."
Chandra
waited for him to move his hand away. He did not. She went on speaking anyway,
despite the bolts of arousal shooting through her lower belly. "And what
then? Am I—I mean, my house—is my house your
territory if you win?" Her arms trembled. The idea of being his territory
sounded medieval to her brain, but her body loved it. Enough that she
involuntarily crossed her legs and squeezed them together, further igniting the
heat between her thighs.
"In
theory," Raul said slowly. "I suppose so. In practice, only if you
want it to be." He smiled. "I'm a werewolf, not a caveman."
Blurb:
After a devastating
encounter with an illegally shifted werewolf, a wounded Raul Silva slumps on
Chandra Williams’s doorstep, begging for refuge. As an investigator for the
legalistic Werewolf Council, Raul’s been sent to look into instability in the
local pack. Chandra’s presence makes him want to succeed at his mission for
personal — not professional — reasons.
The Werewolf Council
disapproves. Chandra is strictly off-limits for Raul according to both the
traditions and laws of the werewolves. But after a life devoted to upholding
principles, Raul’s instincts and desires are boiling to the surface. Can Raul
resist Chandra, or will he break with everything he stands for to pursue a
woman who is not his territory?
Annabeth Leong has written romance and erotica of
many flavors -- dark, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. In
addition to Not His Territory, Breathless Press published her werewolf story,
“The Arcadian Cure,” in its Ravaged anthology. She particularly enjoys playing
off myth, legend, fairy tales, and fantastic history. She believes passionately
in freedom of speech, rights for people of all sexual orientations, and freedom
of religion. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs at
annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong
Contest:
Thanks
for reading! I'm giving away a PDF copy of Not
His Territory to one reader of this post. Simply leave a comment answering
the following question:
What is your favorite setting for a
werewolf story?
Oh, I've got my ideas about an answer to Why Werewolves. Let's see what Cait has to say! Lucky you, Cait is giving away 5 print copies of
Hunter Moon and a $25 Amazon gift card. Enter at the end of the post!
As a paranormal
romance author, there are so many paranormal beings I could have chosen for my
books, I often get asked why I stuck with werewolves. In a genre where there
are mermaids, Fae, Greek and Roman gods, demons, etc. it’s a valid question why
I’d go with an oldie-but-goodie. My answer? I friggin’ love werewolves. But I
should add the caveat that I mainly love weres that shift at will and maintain
their mental faculties in both bodies. I’m not so much a fan of the mindless
killing machines that can’t stop being what they are.
But with my shifters,
what’s not to love? They’re stronger, faster and have keener senses than humans
in both shapes and mine are generally really, really ridiculously good looking.
Yes I just quoted Zoolander, deal with it. Wolves are graceful apex
predators, and werewolves have being an Alpha male down to a T, and there’s
nothing sexier than an Alpha male. Plus, having the added bonus of the shared
mental connection between pack mates just makes being a were that much cooler.
Who wouldn’t like a homing beacon in their head in case shit got real? And my
love of weres doesn’t just include wolves, but shifters of all species: Lion,
coyote, tiger and bear, oh my!
I suppose my
infatuation with werewolves started at an early age, watching Silver Bullet and American Werewolf in London as a kid, but I think it goes deeper
than that. It really boils down to the fact that I really wish I was one. How
freakin’ cool would that be? The hightened senses would be neat, and the speed
and strength, but I mainly would love to get all furry and run around. Maybe I
have issues. Be that as it may, I’ve written my weres to be everything I want;
Sexy, strong, loyal and they’re almost always the good guys. So I ask, what
more could you want?
HUNTER MOON Blurb
Bawling cattle
tore Shelby Flint from her bed. With lawyer fees to pay in her struggle to keep
her ranch from the clutches of her greedy cousins, she couldn’t afford the loss
of even one calf. When she sees a large wolf circling her cows, she aims and fires.
While the wolf escapes, Shelby can’t seem to get away from her troubles when a
marijuana grower sets up shop on her land, sabotaging her property and
eventually coming after her.
Adding to that,
a handsome game warden is poking his nose into her business and working his way
underneath her skin. Shelby will have to fight harder than she ever fought
before to keep from losing her heart and everything she ever loved.
Shelby Flint is
a self-sufficient cowgirl and cattle rancher, but when a wolf goes after her
calves, a man is murdered on her land and someone is sabotaging her property
she can’t do it by herself any longer. In walks a handsome game warden, poking
his nose in her business and working her way under her skin. Shelby will have
to fight harder than she ever has before to keep from losing her heart and
everything she ever loved.
Excerpt
“Hey, have you heard
anything about—wait, what? The fuzz is after me?” I sifted through my recent
actions, but couldn’t remember doing anything illegal that would put a cop on
my tail. “Wait, you’re not talking about Tyler, are you?”
One of her husband’s
favorite pastimes was making me pull over without cause. I was always tempted
to pull a stunt like I was on Cops
and lead him in a high speed pursuit. But since I’d gotten out of a few
speeding tickets by dropping his name, I guess it was a wash.
“What, Tyler? No, I wish
he was this hot.” She leered. “The game warden stopped by about five minutes
ago asking all about the girl who lives on the Flint ranch.” She waggled her
eyebrows at me.
It was Jesse’s mission
in life to set me up with a man. It was the bane of her existence that I’d
sworn off cowboys. A cowboy hadn’t worked out too well for my mom, and that was
pretty much all there was around Raymond. It was probably the only lesson I’d
learned from my mother.
“I have to say, Matt
Albert wasn’t a fan of Mr. Warden asking about you. Gave me one scary glare when I told the hottie where you
live.”
“Oh geez. You haven’t
told Matt I’d date him again did you? The guy’s dumber than a box of rocks!”
The Albert clan was huge
in Raymond. Half the population was related in some form or another, and Matt
had his eyes on me since grade school. I’d always chalked up his infatuation
with me to the fact we weren’t related. Kissing cousins were so Alabama.
Matt liked to get drunk
at the rodeo and pick fights. The one date I had gone with him I ended up with
four glasses of Coors on my shirt and a bruise on my cheek where the other guy had
elbowed me to get at Matt. That had been four years ago. He was either
tenacious to the extreme or stupid, and I leaned toward the latter.
“Of course not. Especially
if you’ve got Hunky McWarden in the wings!” I rolled my eyes at Jesse’s
outrageous nicknames. It was never a good sign when she waxed poetic.
“Why do you keep saying
that? I thought the game warden was an octogenarian?”
“Yeah, that was Bill
Freedman, and he retired last month. Officer
Hotstuff must be his replacement. Lucky for us! Lord knows we need an
infusion of new blood around here.”
While that was certainly
true, I wasn’t in the mood to play ‘The Dating Game’ with Jesse. “Oh quit it.
I’d better get home if there’s a popo waiting for me. Wish me luck!”
I walked back to my
truck and looked down at Reggie.
“Sorry, I forgot your
hot dog. I guess I owe you one.”
He hopped in the back,
forgiving as always and off we went. I wondered why the warden would be looking
for me. I hadn’t hunted or fished in years, not since grandpa’s health went
downhill. I hoped one of my cows didn’t get out. That could be a nightmare if
it ruined property or someone hit it with a car. Great, that’s all I needed right now.
I saw the warden’s
forest green Silverado when I pulled in, but no sign of the warden himself
anywhere. I lowered the tailgate of the Blazer to let Reggie down and he took
off toward the barn. I trusted his instincts and followed him and found an
image I could use to warm the lonely, cold nights. On the trailer of alfalfa
was a 6’4’ Adonis. The man, or god, who I assumed was the warden, had his shirt
off while he was unloading hay. His fantastic shoulders were bare and rippling
as he unloaded bale after bale of hay. His biceps flexed as he squatted to pick
up another and bless him, I had a front row seat to his fantastic rear.
The warden couldn’t have
been any older than late twenties or early thirties, and his golden skin just
added to the Greek god effect he had going. Something stirred in me while I
watched him work, something I had never felt before. Pure unadulterated lust. I wanted that man more than anyone in my
whole life.
Irritated with my
surging libido, I tamped down my unwelcome feelings as much as I could. I
definitely didn’t need that kind of complication in my life right now. He bent
over and picked up another bale and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep
from moaning. No man should look that
delicious. I nodded my head in agreement with myself and continued to gawk.
His shoulders were nearly twice as wide as mine, and his broad chest narrowed
to flat, rippling abs and a trim waist.
In the ten minutes I
supposed he’d been there he had almost the whole trailer unloaded, and it
didn’t even look like he’d broken a sweat. If I’d unloaded that much I would
have been a puddle of exhausted goo. I stood there, staring at all his assets,
for a few minutes longer before I climbed on the trailer and started helping.
When I came up behind
him, he stopped working and stared at me. His nostrils flared wide, but he
didn’t seem surprised at my arrival. Unnerved a bit by his piercing gaze, I
picked up a bale. He just shrugged and resumed unloading, maintaining a silence
the whole time we worked. In between bales he brushed his dark brown hair off
his forehead to reveal two eyes the brilliant blue of sapphires.
He looked at me for a
moment, and then unloaded the last bale of alfalfa. I hopped off the trailer,
suddenly needing distance from his cobalt stare. Without the hay bales to
occupy my hands, they were itching to touch the ripples of all six of his abs. I
stared at the ground, shifting from foot to foot.
“Thanks. I really
appreciate the help. If I was by myself, this would have taken hours.” I handed
him his uniform shirt that was hanging off the side mirror of my truck and
glanced at the name tag. “Officer Newcomb.”
“It’s warden Newcomb,
but you can call me Cash.” He put his uniform back on and I couldn’t help
feeling a sense of loss. The fabric covered a spectacular chest with just a
judicial smattering of curly brown hair that drew together in a fuzzy line that
lead south. Talk about a happy trail.
About Cait Lavender
Cait Lavender is a twenty five
year old wife and stay at home mother of one in Central California. Living on a
cattle ranch and raising her daughter doesn’t afford her much leisure time, but
when she has a spare minute or two she loves riding horses, baking and reading
everything she can get her hands on. She grew up loving the written word and
creative writing and finally decided to work on her dream of becoming a
published author.
She has a short story, Cowboy
Moon, and a full-length novel, Hunter Moon, both available on Smashwords,
Amazon and Barnes & Noble. She’d love to hear from you on her Facebook author page, @caitlavender
on Twitter or on her blog, www.caitlavender.com
