More Wolves by Christine DePetrillo

Wolf Angel, the fourth book in my Warrior Wolves series, released on August 7^th. I had particular fun writing the story of Shawn McMannus and Jessica Fairheart because I delved a little deeper into the world of gods and goddesses. While the book has a contemporary feel—and takes place in the woods of Vermont as most of my books do—a thread of fantasy runs through it. My hope is to take you on a journey that feels as if it could actually happen.

You know… if werewolves were real. (I keep hoping!)

One thing I really love about writing this series is the number of people who have said to me, “I never read about werewolves, but I love these books!” So if you’re one of these people who think werewolves aren’t for you, maybe give my Warrior Wolves a try. I mean, they’re hot. They’re big. They don’t shed much, and they love their women enough to go to Hell and back for them. These are wolves you should meet, no?

If you want to start from the first book, Wolf Kiss, it’s only $0.99 in ebook everywhere.

Wolf Angel Blurb:

Warrior Shawn McMannus only knows the fighting life. Whether it’s on the battlefield in Ireland of the past or in the ring as part of an underground fight club in present-day New Hampshire, he delivers a pounding to his opponents. Until his brother persuades him to try another way in the werewolf-friendly woods of Vermont. The pull of the pack is strong even if becoming a werewolf hadn’t been Shawn’s choice. Leaving the only lass to ever have cared for him, however, was his choice.

Sculptor Jessica Fairheart can’t understand why Shawn left. She’d saved his life after a horrible accident, helped him recover from the loss of his leg, and loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone else. None of that had stopped him from walking out on her though. He probably would have ended up leaving anyway… if he had found out what she was. Better to live without love and keep her secrets.

When Shawn’s brother contacts Jessica, she can’t resist going to Vermont to see Shawn. Maybe she can’t deny her feelings. Maybe she just wants answers. Maybe she wants another chance, but does Shawn?

Only an angel can tame this wolf fighter… if he wants to be tamed at all.

Wolf Angel Chapter One excerpt:

Living in Maine for the past four years, Jessica Fairheart was still amazed at how many trees populated New England. Arizona, where she was born and raised—where she married a jackass and nearly ruined her life—was so different with the rust-colored peaks of the Big Horn, Gila, and Superstition Mountains and the prickly heights of the saguaro cacti of the Sonoran Desert.

Not that she missed Arizona. She didn’t. Not at all. Getting out of there had been the best move she’d ever made. Did she look over her shoulder every now and again? Sure. Was she living the life she wanted? Mostly. Had she moved on?

Have I?

That was a tricky one. Her business, Fairheart Designs, was booming. Her hands could hardly keep up with all the online orders for bowls, vases, and pitchers among other practical pieces of pottery people requested. The more whimsical side of the business was taking off too with more and more orders for conversation-piece sculptures. This week alone she’d made two mermaid statues, a dragon, and three unicorns. She loved her work. Turning lumps of clay into something beautiful made her feel as if she were channeling all her Navajo ancestors and pouring their spirits into each piece. Pottery connected her to her true essence.

Even if she had problems connecting to actual people around her.

That’s to be expected. She had to remind herself of that. Her experiences had turned her into the person she was—or what was left of that person anyway.

Sighing, Jessica shook her head as she sped along the winding, tree-lined highway in her SUV. “What am I doing?” Driving from Maine to Vermont to see a man who quite possibly didn’t want to see her was a stupid idea.

But she couldn’t stop herself from going. And how much did that piss her off?

From the moment she’d inexplicably felt Shawn McMannus get hit by that train she’d been traveling on, she couldn’t get the man out of her head. She’d tried. Oh, hell, she’d tried, but he’d gotten stuck there. Even worse, he’d gotten stuck in her damn heart—a place she’d closed down for business after her last involvement with a man. Men weren’t to be trusted. She’d learned that lesson for the first time when she was just a girl of sixteen.

Here she was though, traveling at speeds well above the posted limit to get to where Shawn was said to be. His brother, Kole, had contacted her and invited her to come to some town named Canville in Vermont. He’d said he and Shawn had recently reconnected and although Shawn wasn’t giving out much information, Kole had a feeling she was “important” to his brother.

Important?

Had Shawn used that word to describe her? Or was Kole trying to fill in the blanks? No one knew better than Jessica how closed off Shawn could be. In the time he’d stayed with her as he recovered from losing his leg in the train accident, he hadn’t said much.

He hadn’t needed to. The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made love to her…

Jessica shivered a little thinking about Shawn’s big, strong hands on her body. For a man of such few words, how had he managed to make her feel so… important? Yeah, that was the right word.

Or at least she’d thought it was. Until she’d awakened one morning, called out Shawn’s name after not finding him beside her in bed, and realized he was gone.

She’d never felt so empty, so lost, so angry at herself for falling in love with another man who wasn’t capable of respecting her. She deserved more than this, didn’t she? She wasn’t getting caught up in crazy romantic notions that couldn’t survive in the real world, was she?

No. Real love existed and she wanted it despite her awful luck with men. Despite her experiences as a teenager and as a young wife. Despite Shawn leaving without an explanation or a goodbye.

And why the hell did she want that real love to be with Shawn?

Jessica slapped her hands on the steering wheel and let out a frustrated grumble. Reaching over, she turned up the radio and sang along with Taylor Swift in her angriest voice, which made her laugh despite her scattered emotions at the moment. Why hadn’t she brought any death metal with her? Probably because she didn’t listen to death metal music.

But Shawn did.

Her lips tugged up at the corners. She remembered catching him singing in the shower to something with a ton of spit and vinegar in the lyrics. He hadn’t known all the words, but hearing him sing had been so damn hot. His voice was slightly gritty and totally sexy. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from stripping down and joining him in the shower.

He’d been startled by her sudden appearance and she’d had to grab him around the waist to stop him from falling over. Standing on one leg in the shower had to have been a challenge, but he’d quickly regained his balance with a hand on the safety bar she’d had installed in there.

Because accepting help wasn’t one of Shawn’s superpowers.

Jessica had figured that out pretty damn fast. You’d think a man who’d lost his leg when a train had literally plowed into him and ripped it off would take all the help that was offered. But not Shawn. He had a fighter’s spirit—one that said back off at every turn. One that had somehow allowed him to survive such a horrible accident.

She still couldn’t shake off the feeling that had coursed through her as he’d been hit while she’d been on that very train heading from Maine to New York.

She also hadn’t unraveled the mystery of how she had known they’d hit him. How could someone who had been sitting, earbuds deep in her ears and her mind singularly focused on the next vase design, have sensed that the train had smacked into a man she didn’t even know?

The whole thing creeped her out, but she was unusual. No way around that fact.

She’d taken responsibility for Shawn McMannus. When she’d finally convinced the railroad personnel to stop the train and at least look at the tracks, everyone had been absolutely horrified at the bleeding, unconscious man lying broken across the rails. She’d been the one to call 911. She’d been the one to ride in the ambulance with Shawn. She’d been the one to go through his wallet and give the hospital the information it needed to treat him. She’d been the one who was there when he’d awakened.

She’d been the one to get mesmerized by his gray-blue eyes.

Shawn had been disoriented when the effects of the anesthesia had worn off after the surgery to tidy up what remained of his left leg. The doctor had said the trauma of the accident and a concussion were to blame, but it had appeared to be more than that to Jessica. When he’d been released from the hospital and she’d taken him to her home, he’d been super uneasy sitting in her SUV. Once she’d gotten him inside her house, things like the microwave and the television had dumbfounded him. He’d looked around as if it were the first time he’d ever seen anything. She’d chalked it up to his ordeal as the doctor had suggested, but something about his reactions didn’t add up in her head.

And traveling to Vermont to see him now didn’t add up either. Seriously.

“Take ramp right,” the lovely male British voice of her GPS commanded.

“You got it, Nigel.” This may have been a stupid idea, but she was nearly to the address Kole had given her. More stupid to turn back at this point. “I may as well see where this all leads.” At the very least, she had to make sure Shawn was all right. Then maybe she could move on.

Hoping her open mindedness would see her through encountering Shawn again, she navigated the rest of the way and after twenty minutes of driving, she arrived at a cozy bed and breakfast. The sign out front said Deer Creek Inn.

This was the place all right. Kole had told her to continue past the main inn and follow the narrow dirt road into the woods. Sure enough, a charming white cottage revealed itself just as Kole had said it would.

She’d had a few conversations with Kole over the past two weeks and already liked him. Much more personable than Shawn was, Kole had made her feel as if he truly wanted her to come to Vermont.

At least one brother wants to see me.

She couldn’t say the same of Shawn, but she’d find out for sure in mere moments. Her palms were slick against the steering wheel and she loosened her grip. A fluttery feeling spread out in her chest and down to her stomach.

“Get it together, Jessica.” She shook her shoulders and stretched her neck back and forward, side to side. How could one man cause this physical reaction in her? And was she nervous or excited? 

Dammit. She couldn’t tell.

The only way to find out was to get her butt out of the SUV and walk up to the front door of that cute little cottage.

“You can do this.”

Grabbing her purse, she got out of the SUV and smoothed her hands over her long black hair that she’d straightened. In a rare talkative moment, Shawn had said he liked the feel of her hair between his fingers. She’d like to say she hadn’t styled her hair with him in mind this morning, but that would be a total lie. Pathetic how much she wanted him to take one look at her, scoop her up into his muscled arms, and ravage her mouth.

She missed his kiss.

Dammit.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked toward the cottage but stopped when the bright red front door suddenly ripped open and a man came barreling out—a man with a shaved head, black stubble, and crystal blue eyes. A man built very much like Shawn.

He skidded to a halt after vaulting down the three front steps. “Jessica?”

“Yes. Are you Kole?” Her fingers closed around the straps of her purse, choking the life out of them.

“Aye. I am.”

She shivered over hearing the same Irish accent that Shawn had. The one that had ratcheted up the sex appeal to dangerous levels.

A woman with black hair like Jessica’s only wavier appeared on the small front porch behind Kole. 

“Oh, you’re here.” She hopped down the stairs and stepped around Kole. “Hi, I’m Emma. It’s so nice to meet you, Jessica.” She extended her hand.

After quickly swiping her palm along her denim-covered thigh, Jessica shook Emma’s hand. “Hello. 

Nice to meet you too.” She couldn’t stop her gaze from going back to the cottage’s still open front door.

Emma chuckled. “Shawn’s not here.” She may as well have said, We don’t have any oxygen here.

Jessica’s shoulders slumped.

“I wish he were.” Kole’s lips pursed, his jaw clenched.

“Where is he?” No sense in trying to hide her desperation. That cat was out of the bag and running wild.

“Jail.” Emma folded her arms across her chest.

Jail? Shawn had always seemed as if a bit of danger simmered under his skin, but what could he have done to land in jail?

“He’s been fighting,” Kole said, “as a… career.” He shook his head. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

“We all did,” Emma added. She slipped her arms around Kole’s waist. “But you McMannus men have thick skulls.”

Kole’s lips turned up on the left side—a smile Jessica had seen on Shawn as well. One that made her want to see the man all the more. She wanted to slap some sense into herself but knew it wouldn’t help.

“It’s a good thing we have thick skulls, Beauty. We wouldn’t have made it this far without them.” A look passed between them that said there was much more to that statement than Jessica knew. 

“Who’s he fighting?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” She could definitely picture Shawn beating the crap out of someone though. All those muscles would love being used in that way. She should probably be disgusted that Shawn was fighting—so caveman—but she was aroused instead. The mental movie playing in her head right now was downright erotic.

“He’s fighting other men who have also decided this was their only occupation choice.” Kole ran a hand over his shaved head and puffed out a breath. “There was a police raid at the steelyard where they fight though. I’ve got to go bail him out so I can kick his ass.” He made a move to walk around Jessica, but Emma pulled him back.

“I’ve got an idea,” Emma said, a sly smile on her lips. “Why don’t we let Jessica get him?”

“Me?” Jessica’s voice was a squeak.

Kole slowly grinned then nodded. “Aye. You.” He turned to Emma and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You are brilliant, Beauty.”

“Don’t you forget it.” Emma kissed him back then looked at Jessica, who was still reeling from the suggestion of her going to get Shawn. She’d been semi-prepared to see him at this cottage, but even that had made her nervous as hell.

Although, if the first time she saw him again was when he was contained in a jail cell, he couldn’t suddenly disappear on her, could he?

“Tell me how to get to the police station.”

Join the pack today! Visit my website for more information about the Warrior Wolves series. 

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

#ReleaseDay for Wolf Vow by Christine DePetrillo

Sound the trumpets! Release the balloons! Light the fireworks!

It. Is. Release. Day.

Go ahead. Applaud and dance around. I'll wait.

Ah, forget waiting. I'm applauding and dancing with you! 

I'm always amazed that the elated feelings of a release day never lessen even after you've released a bunch of books. The anticipation. The satisfaction. The completion. It's all so wonderful! Every single time!

Today I release WOLF VOW, Book Three in my Warrior Wolves Series. 

Blurb:

Warrior Kole McMannus has been traveling across the country in a time that is not his own, searching for his brother. Since the day a Celtic goddess banished him from his home in Ireland, he’s battled wolves, wandered from state to state, and nearly lost all hope of being reunited with his kin. When he lands in Vermont and finds two of his cousins living the good life, however, he picks up new energy to continue his quest. Getting back to his old life with his brother is within his reach… if he still wants to grab it.

Singer and fiddler Emma Rhodes has a dream to launch her Celtic rock band, Hendrake, to international fame. She and her three bandmates have been giving their all to this cause, including a trip to Deer Creek Inn in the quiet woods of Vermont to write new material. It will only take one song to make their fantasies a reality. Without distractions maybe they can finally find the tune to take them to the top.

Or maybe Emma will find a new distraction.

When Kole and Emma meet over breakfast at the inn, he can’t get her scent out of his nose and she can’t forget the dazzling blue of his eyes. A run in the dark woods could change everything.

Making wolf vows is easy. Keeping them is harder.

Chapter One Excerpt:

The sandy Irish shore was gone beneath his paws. Instead, frigid snow stretched out in all directions around him. Kole McMannus shook out his wet brown fur and squinted his crystal blue eyes against the blinding white. Dark shadows of trees lined the horizon to his left, and icy peaks of mountains cut into pristine blue sky to his right.

Where am I?

He’d been in Ireland, kneeling with his fellow soldiers—his brothers—before the Celtic goddess, Flidae, protector of all wild things. She was pissed at their leader, Reardon McAlator, who had turned some members of his mercenary army into werewolves so they could slay the Spanish king’s bloodthirsty enemy. Flidae didn’t take kindly to her creatures being used as killers and had banished the turned men, Kole included.

And Shawn. His brother.

Kole immediately sniffed the cold air. He hadn’t been a werewolf long enough to understand how everything worked. He just knew he was hungry all the time and his anger wasn’t as easily controlled as it used to be. Unfortunately, anger was the only emotion coursing through him right now. Directed mostly at Reardon.

He sniffed again, not sure what Shawn smelled like. When his brother was a normal human, he mostly smelled of ale and sweat, like the rest of the army. Kole didn’t smell either of those in this arctic land, but Shawn was probably still in wolf form.

Unless…

No. He refused to believe he and his brother had been separated. Surely Flidae wasn’t that cruel. Was she?

Kole ran toward the tree line, sucking in air that nearly froze his nose. Nothing smelled remotely recognizable. Nothing stirred around him except the snow his paws kicked up as he ran. He skidded to a halt and tuned his ears to his surroundings instead. Perhaps that sense would lead him to his brother.

Standing still, the tree line a few gallops away, Kole listened until his ears stung with the silence. He let out a growl and shifted to human, but the freezing temperatures were too much for his naked flesh to endure.

There was also the headache. The one that pulsed inside his skull when he was in human form. It had started when he’d first been turned into a werewolf, but Reardon had said the change could cause such symptoms. Kole hoped the headaches would subside as time wore on—as he got accustomed to being a werewolf.

Not likely to happen.

He didn’t want to get accustomed to being a werewolf. He actually didn’t care if he was a normal man anymore. Being in wolf form, however… well, that was oddly comfortable. He maybe preferred being a wolf. Being a werewolf though? No. He didn’t want to live a life like that.

After shouting Shawn’s name a few times and getting no response, Kole shifted back to wolf form and continued toward the trees. The sun was slipping to its resting place and those trees were more inviting than the barren white blanket Flidae had tossed him on.

Alone apparently.

She was a tricky wench. Telling the men they had to do something worthy in order to get back to Ireland. How was he supposed to do that when he was the only one here? And where had she sent his brother? Shawn was a capable soldier. He could take care of himself, as could any of the men, but Shawn was the only immediate family Kole had left.

Their mother had died in childbirth along with the sister who wasn’t meant to be. Their father—a seafaring man—had perished a few years later in a shipwreck. When Reardon, their cousin, asked them to join his army, neither brother had to think too hard about their answers.

They hadn’t regretted their decisions either. Reardon had led them to glory in every sense of the word. Hired as mercenaries by rich kings, the army traveled, shed blood, claimed victory, basked in fame, and accepted unimaginable wealth. Kole and Shawn had been happy to be counted among their cousin’s forces.

Until Reardon had shared his curse with them. Betrayal was a difficult concept to swallow, especially from someone they’d all put their complete trust in.

Kole wasn’t blind though. The Spanish king’s enemies would have broken Reardon’s winning streak. Legends would have fallen on the battlefield if Reardon hadn’t taken some action. Kole wasn’t sure being turned into werewolves was the right action, but it hadn’t been his decision to make.

Just my consequence to suffer.

He was more upset by the banishment from Ireland and the separation from Shawn than the werewolf part. He could manage being a wolf. Being without his brother was the worst.

Leaping into the woods, Kole made a vow to find Shawn, no matter what it took. He’d figure out this place, find civilization, ask questions, fight if he had to. Shawn would no doubt be doing the same. 

They’d find each other.

They would.

Still hoping that perhaps Shawn was here somewhere, Kole shifted back to human again.

“Shawn!” The snow crunched under his bare feet, his toes feeling numb. “Shawn, are you here?” He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, trying to hold on to whatever warmth he might still have inside him.

He wandered deeper into the forest where the wind wasn’t as biting, the trees offering a little protection. What he wouldn’t do for some garments. Being a soldier meant he’d worn armor most of the time, and though the thought of cold iron sent a shiver through him, he’d prefer his fighting gear over nothing right now.

“Shawn, please be here, brother.”

After a few circles around the area that didn’t turn up anything besides more ice-laden trees, Kole cradled his head in his hands, the headache throbbing behind his eyes again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a growl and prepared to shift back to wolf form.

A crack sounded behind him and he whirled around. “Shawn?” He took a few steps in that direction, wanting to shift, but also wanting to be able to talk out loud to his brother. “Is that you?”

Movement happened all around him at once as six wolves emerged from the frosty shadows. Brown fur, black, gray, white blurred as they formed a semi-circle in front of him. Their keen eyes zeroed in on him as Kole’s heartbeat roared in his painful head. He’d had plenty of chances to die on the battlefield. Brutally. Bloodily. Not once did he think he’d be torn apart by wolves in an unknown arctic landscape with absolutely no one to mourn his death.

He went with his first instinct. Run.

Swiveling on his numb heel, he scrambled over frozen brush, cold air burning in his lungs as he ran. Behind him, the wolves’ paws thundered on the ground, sending vibrating shockwaves under his own feet. Growls and snarls sounded as they pursued him. Hot breath flooded his bare backside, and as welcome as that warmth was, he didn’t stop running. If he stopped, he was dead. If he was dead, he couldn’t find Shawn. If he didn’t find Shawn, he’d never forgive himself for suggesting they join Reardon’s army. His brother could have been spared Reardon’s foolish decision to turn them and Flidae’s harsh banishment to punish them.

Shawn followed Kole. Always. Five years younger, he regarded Kole’s thirty-six years of existence as something to be listened to and not questioned. His brother thought him wise. His brother thought wrong. A wise man didn’t find himself running naked from hungry wolves in the snow.  

Shift. Flidae’s voice echoed in his head, the word amplifying the ache there. Shaking his head, he kept running, afraid the time it would take him to shift would allow those wolves to sink their teeth into him. He also didn’t want the goddess’s help. She was the one who had gotten him into this predicament in the first place.

Not me. Reardon McAlator.

Aye, right. His cousin. Some of the blame was his, but Kole made his own choices too. Choices that affected Shawn. And not for the better.

A sharp pain exploded in his left heel and he let out a shriek, the likes of which he never would have believed himself capable of. Glancing down quickly, he noted the bloody footprints trailing over the snowy ground as he ran. One of the wolves had bitten him. The scent of blood intensifying their chase. 

Maybe Flidae was right. If he shifted, he might outrun them. He could at least heal that bite faster. 

Perhaps he could show these wolves he was one of them.

Will they accept me?

Only one way to find out, Flidae said.

Not helpful. Why would she be? This was all a game to her.

No game, wolf soldier. Just survival.

Which he wasn’t going to do if he didn’t get away from these wolves.

He burst out of the trees and dug his toes into the snow when a cliff appeared in front of him. An icy cliff. One he continued to slide toward. He had no idea what magnitude of drop waited for him, but if the white-capped peaks at eye-level on the other side of the chasm were any indication, the ride would be a long way down. The edge laughed at him, knowing full well it was about to swallow him whole.

If it didn’t, those wolves surely would.

Kole jammed his heels into the ice-covered snow, his bitten heel screaming in protest as more flesh tore. He glided toward the precipice as the wolves narrowed the gap between them. Their teeth were bared, showing their unhappiness at his intrusion in their territory. Saliva dripped from their mouths only to freeze in the fur around their snapping jaws.

Shift.

He let out a growl as he dropped to all fours and clawed the snow with his hands to stop his glide toward the edge, but his momentum would not be stopped.

With a roar, the wolves leaped at him.

He had a strange moment to observe them in mid-air, all their muscles tensed and ready to rip him to shreds. That moment was enough time for his wolf to explode free.

Kole was a much larger wolf than they were and when they landed, each one of them skittered back, whines cutting through the silence. He bared his own teeth, his hackles raising, making him larger than he already was. His back leg was slick with blood still, but he pushed that aside. His headache was gone, allowing him to focus and think and plan.

He let loose a roar that had the other wolves lowering their tails and back-stepping. His first concern was getting away from the cliff edge so he rushed forward, growling, barking, snapping his jaws until that precipice was no longer a danger.

Now to deal with threat number two.

Kole lunged at the closest wolf, but before he could do any damage, all six of the wolves bowed their heads to him. A few whines still sounded, but their utter submission surprised him.

You lead them now, Flidae said.

Lead? He’d never been a leader. He took charge of Shawn, but that was about it. Kole had always followed. Reardon mostly. And look where that got me.

Lead. Aye. He could be Alpha of this pack. He could stay in wolf form for a while. Just until he figured out how to find Shawn. These wolves could show him the lay of the land, keep him fed, fight any other threats this place held.

He could… enjoy being a wolf. No trying to be both man and wolf. No lamenting what he’d become. 

No headaches.

Letting out a puff of air as acceptance of their submission, Kole nudged each wolf with his head until all six of them were standing before him.

Food, he thought and, instantly, the wolves took off. The last wolf glanced back at him as if to say, 

This way, Alpha.

Maybe they could lead him to Shawn too.

He ran after them, but quickly took the lead when the wolves found a moose. His stomach growled. 

Apparently banishment worked up an appetite.

The wolves fanned out around the moose, using brush as cover, then as a unified front—as an army—they lunged, Kole at the neck of the animal. Bringing down the antlered beast was easy with a pack. 

Within moments, they were sharing their first meal together. Bonding.

Kole knew he shouldn’t like tearing into the moose’s flesh so much. Blood dribbling down his fur shouldn’t have pleased him. Raw meat shouldn’t have tasted so heavenly.

But gods be damned, it did.

If you haven't started the Warrior Wolves Series yet, you can right now by downloading Wolf Kiss, Book One, for only $0.99.

I hope you'll celebrate this release day with me and all the Warrior Wolves! You can also enter to win a $50 Amazon Gift eCard by visiting my website. Scroll down on the home page for the details.

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

An Interview with a #Werewolf by Christine DePetrillo

I recently sat down with Reardon McAlator from Wolf Kiss, Book One in The Warrior Wolves Series. He agreed to spend a little time with us today. Reardon, welcome.

Reardon: Thanks for having me, lass.

CD: Swoon-worthy accent. You must have lasses falling at your feet.

Reardon: (offering a swoon-worthy grin as he shrugs) I don’t notice if they are. I’ve got my very own fairy lass, Dr. Brandy Wendon, and she’s all I need.

CD: How did you and Brandy meet?

Reardon: Well, she met my wolf first, and she did what she does for all her wolves at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary.

CD: Howl at the moon with them?

Reardon: (chuckles) Aye, on occasion, but I was referring to the expert care she gives each of the wolves in our pack. Many of us wouldn’t still be here without her. Many of us wouldn’t want to be here without her.

CD: Why did you come to modern-day Vermont all the way from Ireland of the past?

Reardon: It wasn’t exactly voluntary. When you anger the goddess of wild things, punishment is sure to follow. (blows out a long breath) I did something I shouldn’t have and the goddess kicked us out of our beautiful Ireland.

CD: Us?

Reardon: My brother, Jaemus, my two cousins, Kole and Shawn, my brother-in-battle, Erik, and myself. The goddess scolded us all so we’d never forget what we’d done. What I made us do. (hangs head)

CD: You have regrets.

Reardon: Many. Fortunately I’ve been rewarded with great happiness in Vermont also. It hasn’t been all bad.

CD: What was something unexpected that happened because you were forced to come to present-day Vermont?

Reardon: Aside from falling in love, I didn’t expect to develop such a strong bond with a lad. Brandy’s boy, Dylan, treated me well when he knew me in wolf form and then accepted me into his family in human form. He’s a remarkable boy, full of life and potential. Brandy has done an amazing job raising the lad, who is actually her nephew. Her sister passed away unfortunately.

CD: I’ll bet you and Dylan have a lot of fun with the wolves at the sanctuary.

Reardon: Aye, we do. That lad has so much energy. The wolves often tire before he does.

CD: Everyone’s getting their exercise then, running about the woods.

Reardon: If I had to land anywhere, Vermont was the perfect place.

CD: What modern convenience do you enjoy most?

Reardon: The car. It’s so much easier than walking, sailing, or riding a horse to get around. Brandy’s veterinary partner, Dr. Parker Daniels, taught me how to drive.

CD: How did that go?

Reardon: Let’s just say Parker is a very patient man who doesn’t mind seeing his life pass before his eyes. Repeatedly. I’m good at driving now though.

CD:  Good enough to take Brandy out on the occasional date?

Reardon: Aye. Every Friday night and sometimes into Saturday morning.

CD: (fans self) Okay, then. Werewolves have wild weekends. Good to know. Any advice for our readers?

Reardon: I spent so many years fighting men in battle, but the only fight that really counts is the one that brings you your true love. Love is always worth fighting for.

CD: Great advice, Reardon. Thanks so much for joining us today.

Reardon: My pleasure, lass.

CD: You don’t think Brandy would mind if we hugged, do you?

Reardon: It might make her growl a bit.

CD: I’m willing to take a chance. I’m a fast runner.

Reardon: (laughing) You better hope so.

If you want more time with Reardon, read his story in Wolf Kiss, Book One in The Warrior Wolves Series. I promise he doesn’t smell like wet dog. If you like Wolf Kiss, leave me a review. The wolves and I love reviews.

Looking for more February fun? Join Small Town Hearts on Facebook, a reader group I co-host with author Amanda Torrey. We’re having a Valentine’s Party on February 11^th that you don’t want to miss! Games and prizes will be part of the entertainment. We’d love to see you there.

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Fangs and Claws for Halloween

Vampires are eloquent and sophisticated. They’ve been hanging around on this Earth for centuries. Nothing surprises them anymore for they have seen and heard it all. Except for Drake MacNeil, when one night a new fragrance fills his senses. Something he’s never smelled in his eternal life. Something he never knew existed. Something that brings him hope.

Werewolves are fierce and primal. Their claws have met dirt and flesh and are always ready to tear something apart. Footprints become pawprints when the moon is full, and the beast is unleashed. Arielle Boabhanshi, however, finds someone she wasn’t looking for in a crowded dance club. Try as she may, she can’t put him in the “food” category. There is something about him. Something she didn’t think she needed. Something that makes her world a different place.

Can love exist between monsters? Can it last an eternity?

My book of gothic romantic poetry, Night Eternal, explores these questions and this odd relationship. It is a love story, a tragedy, a battle. Poems are exchanged between Drake, whom I write, and Arielle, brought to life by author Joseph Mazzenga. The poems are from their hearts…whether they beat or not.

For example, here’s one from Drake on becoming a vampire:

 

Birth of a Monster

Looking for trouble,

down a dark street.

Trying to hide

from the day to day.

Wishing for more,

always getting less.

When he offers me

a smoke,

this shadowy figure,

I shrug.

Why not?

Haven’t done that before.

Time for a change.

Inhaling, I cough,

sputter, choke,

but not on the smoke.

His hands are around my neck,

strong, icy cold.

The edges of my vision blur.

The haze is not enough

to mask the pain.

Twin knife pricks to my neck,

a slow fire in my veins,

cooling as the blood

leaves me.

The metamorphosis

is

instant.

I’m no longer what I was.

I will never be again.

One chance encounter

and I’m gone.

And one from Arielle on becoming a werewolf:

A Hollow Moon

Footsteps.

Always footsteps.

Harbinger in hindsight.

Blind as total nightfall.

I am honored by the hunt.

My soul is a chasm of emptiness

Until that which is unholy stalks my very shadow.

Closer.

Unnatural winds nip at my skin,

Ancient instincts, old and useless, stir.

Telltale heartbeats stating the prey.

It is I.

There is no seduction,

Only futile flight.

There is no fight save for the aggressor.

I tumble across time to the primeval.

I am the prey.

Dawn is no savior.

Only my fear is the beacon.

My screams are for the dead to hear.

One cut,

One slash,

One blood,

One curse....all for the prey,

All for me...

With the ashes of daylight,

With the cloak of the moon,

Resurrected.

I am the cutter.

I am the slasher.

I will now spill the blood.

I am now the cursed...

You can see they are a tortured lot, but they have been brought together by the night eternal and only the night knows what will become of them.

Follow Drake and Arielle at Night Eternal for only $0.99. They are waiting for you…and so is the night! Tiptoe through the shadows and have a peek. 

What two paranormal/supernatural characters would you like to see fall in love?

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

There is PLENTY to fear besides fear itself by Alicia Dean

I am afraid of many things, yet I fear nothing ~ Alicia Dean

Pretty profound, huh? Or maybe just confusing? Let me explain. Although there are a lot of things that scare me, it’s okay, because I love to be scared. Don’t get me wrong, if someone was about to shoot me in the face, I probably wouldn’t enjoy that kind of fear, but I love scary movies and things that go bump in the night. 

When I was a kid, I had the reputation as a daredevil and nothing frightened me…well almost nothing. There were a few things that gave me the heebie jeebies: 

• Werewolves (not the new, hot kind we have these days like Alcide on True Blood and Tyler on Vampire Diaries). I’m referring to the scary, old-time Wolfman played by Lon Chaney, Jr. Sure, it looks fake now, but when I was a kid, it looked real enough to scare the bejeesus out of me, and he still gives me the creeps
• The Grand Canyon (we visited when I was 8, and my dad leaned back over the railing to take our pics and I could see him plummeting to the bottom of that huge, endless rocky monstrosity)
• Sharks (enough said)
• Lastly, the witch on the Wizard of Oz. Not the Wicked Witch of the West, although she was plenty scary, but the part that creeped me out was when her sister’s feet curled up beneath Dorothy’s house. I saw the movie a few weeks ago in IMAX 3D, and after all these years…still scary. 

I understand that all of these fears are unreasonable. Werewolves and the Wicked Witch of the East are not real (or are they…?). If I stay out of the ocean I’m unlikely to encounter a shark, and if I stay away from the Grand Canyon, I won’t fall in. But isn’t fear really more about our imagination than any real danger?

As a writer, my imagination runs wild, which comes in handy. I love horror movies and haunted houses and supernatural creatures and darkness and all of that fun stuff. I love the rush of being frightened out of my wits. My three children are the same way. I allowed them to watch horror movies when they were very young. They loved them and still do. Our favorite is the Halloween franchise. We had the pleasure of visiting Michael Myers’ house in July when we went on a Vampire Diaries tour in Atlanta. It was the house from Rob Zombie’s remake, not the original Halloween movie. It was pretty awesome...and eerie. Here are two of my children standing in front of the house. See how happy they are? I told you, we LOVE to be scared.

My affinity for fear is why I love to write paranormal. I’ve been told some of my stories are ‘creepy’ which I consider a great compliment, even though I don’t believe it was intended that way. :)

My latest release is Liberty Divided, Isle of Fangs Book 2, my YA Vampire Novella Series. This one is mild compared to some of the things I’ve written, but I’ve still had a few people tell me it scared them…ha! Wimps.

One man can fulfill her destiny…the other can fulfill her fantasy.

To quell the rise of evil vampires, Liberty Van Helsing must embrace her newfound Hunter destiny. But she has a great deal to learn, and Eli Barkley—the vampire who has been teaching her—has already betrayed her once. Her goal is to shut Eli out of her life and become a better hunter on her own—and to focus on her new romance with hot Australian, Ryan Kelly, a human she can trust.

But when a rogue vampire begins savagely killing young women, the authorities insist Liberty work with Eli to find the murderer. Liberty must overlook Eli’s epic betrayal and find a way to get along with him if they are to stop the unknown maniac and protect innocent lives.

Yet, the more time Liberty spends with Eli, the more her unwanted attraction to him grows. She starts to question her feelings for Ryan—are they real, or could Eli be ‘the one?’ As Eli and Liberty delve further into the murders, clues surface that point to Eli as the culprit. Can she trust him now? Or will she have to plunge a stake into his heart, breaking her own, just when she’s learning to believe in him again? 

Click here to be taken to Amazon 'buy' page

You know what isn’t scary? Liberty Divided will be FREE on Amazon October 24^th through the 26^th

So…how about you? Do you avoid scary movies or are you a fear junkie like me?

Happy Halloween!