A native of Romania (yeah, Dracula territory), Carmen has a very cool hangout, rich in folklore and all things catering to writers. In the spirit of Halloween, I am sharing a post with her about werewolf folklore. Drop by and say “howl-lo” while you’re roaming the blogosphere. :)
Sometime over the summer I had intended to visit the blog of a sister author and had prepared an interview with Colonel Caleb DeCardian, the hero of my novel WEATHERING ROCK. Due to complications that interview never ran, so I thought why not trot it out now? Among other things, Caleb always pops into my mind during the month of October when things paranormal and spooky are at their height.
Before indulging in an interview with my favorite colonel, perhaps I should share a glimmer of his tale with the blurb from WEATHERING ROCK:
Drawn together across centuries, will their love be strong enough to defeat an ancient curse?
Colonel Caleb DeCardian was fighting America’s Civil War on the side of the Union when a freak shower of ball lightning transported him to the present, along with rival and former friend, Seth Reilly. Adapting to the 21st century is hard enough for the colonel, but he also has to find Seth, who cursed him to life as a werewolf. The last thing on Caleb’s mind is romance. Then fetching Arianna Hart nearly runs him down with her car. He can’t deny his attraction to the outspoken schoolteacher, but knows he should forget her.
Arianna finds Caleb bewildering, yet intriguing: courtly manners, smoldering sensuality and eyes that glow silver at night? When she sees Civil War photographs featuring a Union officer who looks exactly like Caleb, she begins to understand the man she is falling in love with harbors multiple secrets–some of which threaten the possibility of their happiness.
Finding a decent guy who’ll commit is hard enough. How can she expect Caleb to forsake his own century to be with her?
Caleb, it’s great to have you here today. I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I have a number of curious readers. It’s not every day we have a Civil War colonel drop by to say hello, so let’s start with something simple. What is your favorite drink?
An acceptable question, I suppose. I used to favor coffee, but the stuff that passes for it in this century is like drinking brown water. No bite. Then there are those fancy flavored things Arianna drinks. *Shakes his head* I haven’t had a good cup of coffee since 1863.
And your favorite food?
I’m not fussy. There were plenty of times during the war when we made do with what we had, or did without. I do prefer my food full-flavored, however, and fail to see the attraction of all the “reduced calorie,” and “fat free” swill that passes for sustenance these days. Dreadful!
Considering how fit you are, I don’t think you could relate. Let’s switch topics. What do you consider your best date, um…courtship moment.
The first time Arianna agreed to have dinner with me. I admit to coercing her into it, then not being at my best. There was a full moon the night before, and it takes me a while to recover from those. I have my ex-friend, Seth Reilly, to thank for that curse. Fortunately, it wasn’t the last time I saw Arianna.
And your worst date?
The costume party Arianna’s friend, Lauren held. After getting over the shock of seeing Arianna dressed as…*shakes his head and holds up a hand* I’m sorry. As a gentleman, I simply can’t say. I just recall the party was a disaster. There was that infernal shower of ball lightning then Reilly showed up on the arm of Arianna’s sister. I’d been chasing that traitor for three years and didn’t react well. I only wish the turncoat hadn’t gotten away. It would have saved a lot of aggravation that came later.
Yes, it did get rather ugly. What do you notice first in a woman?
I have you to thank for that mess. And as to what do I notice first—with Arianna it was her car. She nearly ran me down on the road.
That was somewhat problematic, wasn’t it? Let’s switch topics again. What is your biggest pet peeve with women?
Well… *shifts uncomfortably*… sometimes I have to remember I’m living in a different century. Arianna and I have had a few … discussions … about her unwillingness to listen to reason. *pauses and shifts again*
When she calls me “Colonel” it usually means she has no intention of conceding her viewpoint. After commanding a full regiment of soldiers during the bloodiest battle in the Civil War, it’s a difficult matter to concede to a single woman.
Use three words to describe yourself.
Courtly—so Arianna says. Demanding—per my descendent Wyn. Complicated—my choice.
If you could meet anyone who would it be?
I left a lot of family behind when I ended up in this century. I would like to see my mother and father again. My father…well, perhaps that’s where the “complicated” reference in my previous answer comes into play. I’ll leave that relationship for anyone who cares to read my story in the novel WEATHERING ROCK.
What is one secret that you don’t want people to know about you?
I’m afraid it’s no longer a secret to your readers that my former friend cursed me to life as a werewolf. During my story, however, Wyn and I went to great lengths to keep that particular detail under wraps.
It’s also no great secret that I find moments like this unnecessary and somewhat embarrassing. You’ll forgive me if I put an end to this silliness, er…fluff…or whatever you prefer to call it. *Stands and prepares to withdraw* As a gentleman, I am required to say it has been a pleasure. I would, however, much prefer your readers become acquainted with me through the novel, WEATHERING ROCK. With that, I will wish you a good day.
Thank you, Colonel. It’s been interesting to say the least, and I will certainly pass on the means through which readers can connect with you first hand.
What happens when monsters turn out to be real? One summer night while camping in the woods, Morgan Carter finds out in a big way. A tall mysterious stranger, Greyson Crawford, risks his life to try and save her sister from the vicious wolf attacking their camp. When he’s bitten and disappears into the night, Morgan can only assume the worst.
Greyson shows up a year later, and he’s a different animal altogether. His eye color shifts constantly and the rumble in his throat sounds more animal than human. She hasn’t any idea where he’s been all this time, but a good guess as to what he’s become.
Grey is determined not to let the darkness of his new existence affect Morgan and the little girl in her care. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Morgan but knows he should stay away and let her live a normal life. That’s easier said than done, though. A new danger pulls him from the shadows to keep her safe, and he’s no wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Can she accept what lurks just below his surface? More importantly, can she survive him?
Tera Shanley writes in sub-genres that stretch from Paranormal Romance, to Historic Western Romance, to Apocalyptic (zombie) Romance. The common theme? She loves love. A self-proclaimed bookworm, she was raised in small town Texas and could often be found decorating a table at the local library. She currently lives in Dallas with her husband and two young children and when she isn’t busy running around after her family, she’s writing a new story or devouring a good book. Any spare time is dedicated to chocolate licking, rifle slinging, friend hugging, and the great outdoors. For more information about Tera and her work, visit www.terashanley.com.
Greyson’s muscles quivered under Morgan’s hand but it likely had nothing to do with the cool rain. He opened his eyes slowly and the brilliance of the golden color pooled there was almost too dazzling to look directly at. Like staring at the sun. No one would mistake those for human eyes.
If she’d had any doubt before about the brand of monster he’d become, those liquid amber eyes put them to rest. He pulled his hood back and the chin-length dark blond hair from her memory fell forward into his face. She moved a strand to the side. He’d lost weight in the past year. He hadn’t had an ounce to lose in the first place, but it looked as if he’d struggled to stay healthy. His eyebrows, just a shade darker than his hair, were furrowed but he let her drink him in. He was playing fair. For all she knew, he’d been watching her the entire year. It was her turn now.
His nose was straight and his jaw line masculine. From the brief moments she’d known him out in those woods, she’d seen how intoxicating he was. He’d been a fearless warrior bent on that murdering wolf’s destruction, no matter the cost. Here, in the dirty alley under the relentless clouds, with those glorious feral eyes and a snarl in his chest, Greyson Crawford was utterly consuming.
Softly, she said, “You’re beautiful.”
His shaky whisper tore at her. “I’m a monster.”
Last week on Mythical Monday I shared a vampire legend, so it seemed only fitting I share the tale of a werewolf today. I’ve been in love with werewolf folktales ever since I was a little girl and first set eyes on Quentin Collins of Dark Shadows. Since then my preoccupation with this tortured night prowler steadily grew until I eventually wrote my own story, Weathering Rock.
Today, I’d like to share an older tale with you, one that originates in the Auvergne province of France. According to legend, there was once a great lord and lady whose lands bordered an area dense with forest. All was well until a creature began slaughtering the lord’s flocks. This went on for several days each month but the creature, one of great stealth and savagery, could not be caught. Many men tried and failed.
Finally, the lord summoned his master huntsman and bade him kill the wretched beast. Surely if anyone could end its reign of terror, it would be the huntsman.
Vowing to succeed, the man set out grimly determined. As dusk fell and a pall of shadows smothered the land, he came upon the creature in a wood near the manor pastures. The huntsman drove it into the underbrush, but the beast turned on him, knocking him to the ground.
Drawing his knife, he managed to slice off of one its forepaws. With a blood-curdling howl, the wolf bolted into the woods. The huntsman tracked it through the night, but was unsuccessful in finding it. When dawn was still hours away, he returned to the manor and placed the severed paw in a wooden box as a trophy for his lord.
The next day the huntsman sought an audience with his master and relayed his tale with pride. He presented the box with the beast’s forepaw as proof of his encounter with the heinous creature. But when the box was opened, a woman’s hand lay inside. The lord’s expression turned thunderous, for the hand bore a signet ring twin to his own.
Stalking to his wife’s bedchamber he threw open the door and found her being attended by physicians. When he demanded to know why, she explained she’d suffered a terrible accident, and that her left hand had been severed at the wrist.
“Here is your hand, woman,” he thundered, displaying the grisly trophy. Then he commanded his physicians to bind her, condemning her as a werewolf. She pleaded with him for mercy, but he turned deaf fears and ordered her burned at the stake.
Not a very loving husband, was he? And you probably thought he was going to go ballistic on the huntsman when he first saw the hand (I did).
But these were dark times full of superstition and cruelty. Land and livestock held far more value than a wife. I’m sure the huntsman was richly rewarded, though the tale doesn’t go that far.
One of the things that attract me to the werewolf legend is the duality of strength and fragility, its immense power bound by the whim of moonlight. The anguish of conflict, human and creature. Vampires remember their mortal life, but once turned there is no going back. The werewolf has to constantly straddle both sides of a curse — mostly human but doomed to a bestial existence every full moon.
What about you? Are you a werewolf fan? Any favorite aspects of the werewolf curse you’d like to ponder? Or maybe there’s a particular wolf story or movie that resonated with you. Halloween is creeping right around the corner. Do share! :D
Did you feel that goose bump? Spooky happenings are afoot as I go traveling today!
First up, I’m sharing a piece of flash fiction called A la Carte Kiss about a sexy vampire (yes, the werewolf girl wrote something about a vamp!) as part of Karen Michelle Nutt’s Halloween Flash Fiction Bash.
And because I wanted to offer a Halloween treat I’ll be awarding a $5.00 gift card to Amazon to one commenter. My blog followers have been so wonderfully supportive, so do hop over and enter your name for a shot at it. Aren’t treats fun?
Lest werewolves get short shrift, I’m also on Lyrical Press’s blog participating in Celebrate Paranormal Month with a post about my hunky Civil War colonel, Caleb DeCardian from WEATHERING ROCK.
So grab some apple cider or pumpkin juice and come traveling with me. What do you think of my “owlish” messenger? :D Isn’t he perfect as a Halloween usher?
Today, I’m visiting Christina McKnight, sharing the book that started it all for me, along with my favorite Stephen King read. And since it’s October, I’m also talking about my werewolfy paranormal time travel novel, WEATHERING ROCK.
Drop by Christina’s blog to share your own favorite paranormal reads! I’d love to see you there!
I’m kicking my day off by scrambling over to Laurie’s Paranormal Thoughts and Reviews and trotting out WEAHTERING ROCK again. Because it’s a paranormal blog and WEATHERING ROCK is a paranormal romance, I decided to do a giveaway too. Nice fit, right?
So, if you still haven’t picked up your copy featuring a hunky Civil War colonel who is also a werewolf, now’s your chance. Hop over and comment for your chance to win a Kindle or Nook copy.
Happy weekend, everyone! :)