Baby Wolf Pups Howling - CUTEST Compilation

Cool Wolf Puppet

I wound up at Cracker Barrel in Joliet twice right before the holidays, once with Daniel to buy St. Nicholas gifts, and then a few days later with Rebekah to celebrate our mutual feasts.

Near the checkout counter was this cool wolf puppet without a price tag. I "googled" it, decided the list price that I found was out of my price range, and walked away.

The puppet was still sitting on the shelf when I returned with Rebekah. She encouraged me to check on the actual price in the store. So I did. $1.99. Yes, I bought it.

Now about that little pill in front of the wolf. That's one of Faith's steroids. 

She gets one each night for life. I found this one on the floor and set it there to show Rebekah. It's not the first time Faith's spit it out unbeknownst to us. 

I'm surprised she's never had an adrenal crisis. Just saying.

The wolf puppet lives on a small bookcase near my computer (within arm's reach), next to a collection of very cool items, all of them (if you can believe it), were gifts.

The lamp at the far left was one of four that Timothy bought for me room.

Every item on the lamp's shelves were gifts.

The blue cardboard thing with drawers was a gift from Ron more than twenty years ago, which he rescued on its path to the garbage when he worked in maintenance at a school.

The handmade wooden box on top of the shelf on top was a gift from a local artist, more than twenty-five years ago. I keep business cards in it.

The little metal box on top of it has a cat pictured on it. I keep business cards in it. It was a gift from Kristina Skaggs. WriteOn Joliet founder, in 2012.

The little incense holder next to the wolf holds tiny incense sticks. For the record, I don't burn anything on this shelf. And I've never used this particular incense holder. But it has a story behind it, so I've kept it.

The typewriter in front of the box holds Qwerty keyboard coasters.

The Christmas box is filled with miniature chocolates. It's now mid-March. You see how fast I eat candy, LOL.

The angel coaster is a gift from Timothy.

The handmade box next to it is a gift from a local artists, more than twenty-five years ago. I keep manuscript clips in it.

The handmade wooden tray next to the box was also a gift, also more than twenty-give years ago. It holds a couple of cool rocks, including one Timothy painted when he was a child, and a set of keys that go to nothing anymore.

Behind the tray is a fake typewriter, a Christmas gift from a friend nearly ten years ago. It holds my voter registration card and a stapler remover, a gift from Ron more than twenty-five years ago.

Next to it is a framed art piece from Rebekah when she was a little girl.

In front of is a very cool candle holder (a gift from Rebekah) and a flameless candle.

The little green bottle next to it are my afternoon/night medicines. So, technically, not a gift (unless you count staying healthy as a "gift of life").

Timothy bought the coffee mug next to it from the Silver Cross gift shop in 2002 when I was in the hospital and shortly before my pheochromocytoma was officially diagnosed. It holds glass wipes and a brush featuring my favorite color of blue (a gift from Rebekah).

Leaning up against the blue cardboard box is the DVD for when John Schlitt, lead member of the Christian rock band Petra (basically, The Beatles of Christian rock), sang karaoke at our house for the members of the youth group Ron and I led. 

Booking John Schlitt was all Ron's idea and I didn't think we could do it. John came out two weeks before my birthday and sang "Happy Birthday" to me, all Ron's idea (and Ron bought a cake). Truly, one of the best gifts Ron ever gave me besides himself.

In greater context the shelf sits directly under my BryonySeries wall in progress. 

These include all five Before The Blood frontispieces  by Christopher Gleason, Munsonville's Main Street by Jennifer Wainwright (which appears on the landing page for the BryonySeries website), the cover to the special edition holiday Visage, and a print of the first cover to the first book in The Adventures of Cornell Dyer series, cover art by Sue Midlock.

Timothy framed all the pieces.

And I still have more BryonySeries artwork patiently awaiting their frames, currently sitting in a box.

And I have many more gifts all over my room.

So even when I'm alone, I'm not, really.

Halloween Music - Howl of the Werewolves

THE WOLF LULLABY - Original Nordic Song - Harp Twins - Electric Harp

20 Quotes from "Lycanthropic Summer"

When we were getting ready to release Bryony back in 2011, my daughter Sarah (who most of the social media marketing for me at that time) suggested I pull thirty teaser quotes from the book.

She would then post one each day on Facebook in the month leading up to the book's release.

We did the same for the second book, Visage, which is also part of the BryonySeries.

But for some reason, I never pulled any marketing quotes for the rest of the books.

So now I am catching up, one book at a time.

Here is the synopsis for Lycanthropic Summer, followed by some quotes. 

Caryn Rochelle loves werewolf stories and promised herself she would write the world's greatest werewolf love story before her eighteenth birthday. But with the date just months away, Caryn has shredded more drafts than she's kept and is feeling desperate.

But then she learns the town's most prestigious couple has a dark secret: they're keeping a savage boy her age locked in their basement. One glimpse, and Caryn's inspiration skyrockets. Caryn knows she ought to report them, but...

Can it really hurt to wait until she finishes her story?

Now this book has a Jeckyll/Hyde-ish protagonist: the author and her main character, whom she based off herself.

This book also has three parts, which run together: the protagonist's diary, her manuscript, and her short werewolf stories (none of those quotes is from the shorts).

And look - Blogger kept the book font intact!

Finding the right quotes was challenging because the protagonist has, what my mother used to call, "a mouth on her."

First, I'm sharing one quote from the introduction.

Then I'm sharing three quotes from each of the book's three parts.

And finally I'll share a snippet from each of the manuscript's chapters.

Enjoy!

The Introduction:

The waitress brought the bill. Dad reached for his wallet. It's old and worn, more beige than tan, but hell, I was six when I bought it for him at Santa's Secret Shoppe. (Stupid dumb spelling at the end. It was only the school basement).

The Diary:

June

Wanna hear about my pretend friends? No, I’m not crazy. They’re all real people that THINK they’re real friends because I let them think that. It makes life easier. Mom threatened to send me to a head-shrinker if I didn’t’ make some, so here ya go.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity." I think Charles Dickens was really writing about prom night.

Then he sits down and takes out his pipe and lights it. We all sit quietly together, Dad smoking, Aunt Silly rocking, and me hunched on the wicker chair with my knees to my chin, reveling in the sounds of the night and the creak of the old wood and the smell of tobacco, a robust and fragrant smell that’s hard to describe except that it smells like a hunt at night.

July

I think rain can add other moods, too. Think of the desolate sadness you feel in a gray dreary rain. Think of a storm of tears, where your face is so wet you can’t tell where the tears start and the rain ends. It’s like the whole world is having a long, lonely cry. And you’re outside walking in rivers of despair.

Would you believe even the meat shoppe buys Aunt Silly’s jewelry? It’s true! A place that grinds up animals into human food wants to sell chatoyant gems on delicate wire.

Traveling with Aunt Silly is a lot different than traveling with Dad. First of all, she doesn’t drive a brand-new Ferdinand XGE with air conditioning. No, she drives an old Mode 9. It’s full of rust and dents, but it powers up like a beast and has a super smooth ride. Plus, we both smoked our lungs out all the way there. 

August

There’s a melancholy in August I can’t describe. Almost as if my spirit senses the dying summer and silently mourns the loss.

Do you have a Mom, Maggie? Was she a card-playing, chain-smoking boozer, or was she the starched aprons, homemade chocolate chip type? Does it really matter – as long as the love is there?

The favor’s most proper. But a dishonest weapon disrupts the trend. A hypnotic comet streaks the sky. I scoop and scoop, but the fluid pours out and won’t go back.

The manuscript:

Chapter 1: Paw Prints

The moon stays with me, every step. The tracks lead me to a house, open and vulnerable in a little clearing all by its forsaken self, spotlighted under the moon.

Who would build a house in the middle of an empty space and then abandon it?

The house is old and creaky. The wind bangs the loose shutters and rattles its broken glass.

My naked skin gets goosebumps, and I shiver. I wrap my arms around me, but hair and arms don’t keep my skinny body very warm.

Chapter 2: The Walking Stick

I tremble at the thought of wandering through the open field, eternally lost.

     As I’m thinking, I realize I’m sinking.

     I sink past my ankles, and my heart sinks lower than that.

     Where is my Randy, I say in my soul. Where is the old, lonely house holding my hairy beast boy?

Chapter 3: Not a Regular Drink of Water

If you can help me find the scientist and where he keeps the aconite, I will be able to escape. I will be able to run past the hill. You won’t have to come to me. I will come for you. And then we can run free together forever.

Chapter 4: The Clock Man

A month is too long to wait for another full moon, but so is sixty seconds when you’re apart from your wolf mate.

But the world is full of people who can bend the laws of nature, and many of them live near me.

Rosie is one. The Clock Man is another.

Chapter 5: Magic Ointment

Before I leave, I lay the rowan cane near the door before I lock it. This is not as easy as it sounds. The cane was not by my door when I woke up, and the search for it was long and irritating. Finally, I found it. This time the cane was at the edge of the property, past the old gardens, and half buried by dead leaves. I wipe all the blood from the cane onto the grass, give that naughty cane a good spanking, and then carry it back to the door and set it in place.

Chapter 6: Liquid Silver

Overhead, the silver moon is molten and melting. I think of rainy afternoons at my bedroom window, watching streaks trickle paths. Yes, this is what I think as the moon’s viscous fluid oozes down; a childhood that was never simple or innocent, a childhood that was now, thankfully, gone.

Chapter 7:  Where Does Your Garden Grow?

With a claw, Randy lightly, so lightly I can scarcely perceive it, traces my face. He starts at my forehead and proceeds counterclockwise. His claw glides and slides, turns and twists, and I realize it’s dancing. His claw is dancing widdershins on my face.

Chapter 8: Turning Point

I’m wearing my long white nightgown; my feet are bare and touching the earth. I’m seeking, seeking. I’m still the huntress, but my prey is knowledge, the whereabouts of the aconite. To ask its mistress to give up her secrets, I must approach the mistress directly. I never dared before tonight. Pretense always works well for me, but it won’t do now.

Chapter 9: Finally Free

Night has fully blossomed by the time our feet touch down by my back door, and the wild roses that grow up around my house wrap us in its spicy aura. The sky is drenched in darkness, and all nature feels it. The stars aren’t whispering their faraway secrets; the katydids and crickets have silenced their songs; and even yard toads have stifled their shrill calls. This is what happens when you bring a werewolf to your home on a summer evening. 

Chapter 10: Under a Full Moon Rising

With no regard for the pebbles embedded in the hardpacked dirt, I keep running and running, over the sharp pricks of pine needles and shards of soda pop bottles; my feet slip because they’re powdered with dirt, but still I press onward until I smell the pink soap, golden baby shampoo, gunpowder, and blood.

"Werewolves and Zombies, the Tale of Two Teens: Book Reviews" by Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara

Only Ed Calkins can compare and contrast two books that are seemingly dissimilar on the surface: "Lycanthropic Summer" and "Flower Power."

I'm thrilled to be placed in the same category as Lindsay Lake.

Dear MOMI,

It was good to see you in person. I know you're really busy but here is the book review that Linsey might want to read

                          

  "Werewolves and Zombies, the Tale of Two Teens: Book Reviews"

I’d like to introduce you to two teenage girls with some things in common. Both find themselves facing adulthood in the 1960’s and have some untraditional plans that may seem naïve yet so relevant to more mature adults living in present times.

The youngest is a creation of Denise M. Baran-Unland in the novel "Lycanthropic Summer."  Caryn Rochelle plans to start her adulthood by being very rich; much wealthier than her mother who divorced her father when she inherited big. But seventeen-year-old Caryn has a less conventional way in mind. She is going to write the greatest werewolf love story ever written before her eighteenth birthday. She envisions the tours, interviews, and book signings after that will surely keep her a wealthy, busy, young adult.

There is a small problem, however, and it’s described in an interesting way. Caryn has yet to write a single word of it and it's already June 1st. Her birthday is in late August. Her dad, the only person that isn’t dead and is still of use to her has an answer, be it a cheesy one. It’s a yellow diary with a childish lock and key. The bulk of the novel is a dated letter to an imaginary friend, “Maggie”, who was a classmate of hers but never an actual friend. There are other pretend friends, too, in the story. But it’s the friendship, not the teenage girls, that are imagined with Caryn secretly disdaining them while keeping up appearances of a close-knit inner circle.

Caryn is a true lone wolf; cynical, imaginative, vulgar, and sexually inexperienced. Early in the novel, she gets in trouble when she attempts to change that inexperience after her prom dance in her boyfriend’s car. Still, both the boyfriend and the experience seemed designed to give her something to complain about rather than satisfy adolescent urges. She gets caught by a policeman and grounded in a way that grants her mother a summer without a daughter stealing cigarettes from her purse.

Mother sends daughter to live with dad and her aunt Silly in a tourist prison called Shelby where her father has a veterinarian office and a place he shares with his sister, who makes her living by crafting and selling jewelry to the tourist trap shops. Caryn adapts to her new prison quite well. One might expect to find her just a rich kid spoiled brat, but she’s almost the opposite, looking for any opportunity to help Dad with his veterinarian office and Aunt Silly with her jewelry. Caryn won’t admit it, but she’s also quite fond of her easy-going unconventional aunt.

Caryn’s prison quarters are about the size of her bathroom at home, but she seems to prefer it, even though her bedroom door is misfitted to the frame and doesn’t close all the way. Housework has an interesting pattern well suited to teenage sensibility. 

The journal fills with the wisdom of adolescence and werewolf lore along with some of Caryn’s short werewolf stories. The writer has talent, but the wisdom is confined to her number of years. The days of Shelby fall into rhythm, but no "Greatest Werewolf Love Story" emerges.

One might expect that a seventeen-year-old might mingle with the local teens, sharing cigarettes and ways to make trouble. Caryn keeps to herself, her aunt, her father, and the animals under her father’s care. But a rumor causes curiosity to creep into her writer’s mind and she explores a rich native’s estate. Through a window she finds a naked, hairy, teenage boy chained to a basement wall. Naturally, she expects to spend her reward money promoting her book when she turns the captors in; but another idea claims her attention.

The writer gets an idea and, just as quickly, the greatest werewolf love story gets its first chapter. As the journal fills, the other chapters only get written every time she conducts her clandestine visits to her chained naked muse. As a reader, you can feel the urgency as the pages yet to read grow smaller and the progression of chapters seem to fail to claim those pages. The village of Shelby has its secrets, but the revelations are all shadowed. Caryn has a deadline that her father seems to legitimize.

I’ll give you one hint. As you’re reading the novel, keep an eye on that door that doesn’t close and also the misbehaving rowan cane and the power of the native flowers. Except for the "f" bombs which I find humorous, the story is not one word longer than it needs to be and its full sense isn’t revealed till the book’s last sentence.

The story of an older teenage girl starts in a hick town in Texas sometime after the Beatles invaded the States. In the novel, "Flower Power" by Lindsay Lake, Shelby is the protagonist looking for a life that doesn’t depend on marriage. Like Caryn, Shelby is independent, creative, and has a smart streak that seems to fail her early on. Unlike Caryn, Shelby loves everyone and is quite interested in boys almost to the point of addiction.

She wants to be a nurse, but her high school grades rule out college. She works as a nurse’s aide with German nuns in a newly built hospital. But then, she talks with an Air Force recruiter. The Air Force could make her a nurse. She signs on the dotted line and is shipped to Lackland Air Force Base in Texas for her secretarial training! That’s the last thing she wants, and she makes that clear to her assignment officer despite a warning not to make waves. Was that her first mistake or was it being too dismissive of a pair of guys boasting that they could get her assignments anywhere in the world?

In either case, she’s flown out to begin her four year sentence on Thule Airbase in Greenland, where the sun rises once a year. Once on the base, she hopes to meet handsome pilots, but is confronted by zombies who overrun the base. Hmm. "Zombies" and "overrun" might be an exaggeration. Zombies would have more personality and "overrun" implies that they are acting in unison. No, the airmen, contractors, and support staff aren’t undead, they just look like it and the dull grey that covers everything doesn’t help much. It seems like everyone on the base is dead inside and mental illness threatens in many forms. They drink too much, fight, rape, and kill themselves when they are not too busy being clinically depressed.

On her first day, Shelby meets her two commanding Captains. Madonna Wakowski, who runs the hospital, is an RN with a manlike haircut and a likable disposition. Dr Alan Markkov has the charm and looks of a grumbling homeless man with an unkempt long beard and dark circles under his eyes. Being the only doctor on the base left the man and the clinic he worked in gigantic mess; one that Shelby got right down to cleaning up. He doesn’t impress her, but she does have what could pass for dinner with him in the officer’s mess hall. Dr Alan gulps down his food and leaves for his quarters before she’s halfway through her meal.

Once in her quarters, her neighbor Nan informs her that they both have dates with the base commander and a friend. She dresses for the Officers Club she had heard about, but instead finds herself at the friend’s apartment where drinking is taking very seriously. Shelby gets bad vibes and bails. 

The next morning, Shelby is late, and Captain Wakowski has a new patient; the base commander who got drunk and tried to force himself on Nan who happened to study karate. All that happened on the first day.

Because of my enthusiasm for the novel, I’m in danger of telling the story instead of letting the author do it. What I can tell you is Shelby appoints herself as an activities director. Her first task is to change the color of the walls. Surprised that she had no trouble getting the Air Force to send Thule gallons of paint that isn’t grey, she was even more surprised at the ease of getting contractors and airmen to volunteer to paint.

She has other ideas too and the bulk of the novel is the execution and effect of them, sometime unintended. There is also the matter of sex, lovers, and storms both inside the buildings and out.

Will a simple flower child be able to fight back the tide of zombies or is the base doomed to suicide, riots, and starvation, not to mention nuclear war? She does have allies. The base commander isn’t the jerk he makes of himself, rather he, too, is the victim of the craziness of the desert snow.

Later, two other characters, DeSoto, an angry black airman, and Beau, a brawling young contractor sporting long hair and piercings, join her quest and mix it up with the base in varying ways. All the main allies journal their pain. Although the entries don’t take up much of the novel, each informs of some secret insanity looming. Even Shelby is not doing as well as she appears and her plea to her childhood imaginary friend Buc will break your heart. To the reader I’ll give a hint. Keep your eyes on the weather and the dog sleds as the ending takes a hard left turn.

But how am I to make these tales of two teenage girls all about me? I have to come up with something. I could say things like; while "Flower Power" is historical fiction, the werewolf novel is hysterical fiction, (please don’t make me pronounce that title again,). All the f bombs did make me laugh. I could say that the name Caryn sounds like ‘caring’ which is a big part of Caryn’s character. I could say that Shelby sounds like "shall be" which sound like a biblical Beatles’ song or something often proclaimed by a very confident activities director.

I could be clever and insightful by pointing out that werewolves are the perfect metaphor for adolescence. I could also claim that "Flower Power" tells the story that modern life is decades removed from. In the Vietnam era the nation was sharply divided, suffered runaway inflation, and lived in fear that the Russian's aggression would lead to the end of the world. Wait…never mind.

I could sound ridiculous by stating that the major difference between the two novels is the location of power that combats the wolfs and zombies. In the first, it’s the power of flowers that grow inside of Shelby. In the second, it’s the flower power that grows inside of Shelby.

I will admit you might read both books and disagree.

Here’s something you can’t disagree with because you lack the authority. I have two new imaginary friends and a lot in common with both of them. People that have worked with me might think I’m more like Shelby. We both have had the same unofficial jobs. But I am most of the time more like Caryn in keeping to myself.

Caryn has no use for anyone her age, or as she puts it "anyone that isn’t dead". Is it fear that motivates that? Oh, I know she does not agree and would use her string of f bombs say so. But I know fear and am inclined to project it on her. Is it her, me, or both that distain company because of fear of getting her/mine/our feelings hurt? Or is it the reverse? Are we afraid of the monsters inside of us hurting other people? One thing about Caryn is that she believes herself to be a great writer. I can’t say that about myself. If I could have just a little of her confidence, maybe I could pretend to believe which would lead to believing, which would lead to being. You see why I’m keeping her around.

Then there’s Shelby. It’s going to come out of me anyway so I might as well admit it. I have a crush on Shelby. For a man my age, you might call that creepy. I’d rather you call it ruthless. How can I help it? When Shelby looks at me with big blue eyes, her lit-up smile, and Jane Fonda haircut, she’s bouncing on the balls or her toes almost too excited to tell me about the new activity she’s just thought of. She’s irresistible, even if I have to share her with guys more endowed than me.

Caryn is my "writers block" buddy. I imagine her to the right of me as I type on my computer and she’s scribbling in that yellow dairy.

“How’s it coming, Mouse?” I would call her that. I’m about the same age as her father in this fantasy and he called her that. “What are you writing just now?”

“No way!” she’d insist. “I’m not giving you my werewolf love story for free. You have to buy it like anyone else.”

But I can see she’s at her diary and not at the typewriter. She knows she’s busted.

"What about you?” she asks.

“I’m writing, but I’m not sure anyone’s going to read it.”

“Bleep that blah!” She uses more colorful words. “Write any way you think and if any of the Bleeping Blobbing blahs can’t understand the bleeping blobbing blah you’re trying to say…well bleep em. Besides, my werewolf love story is going to make so much money you’ll never have to bleeping blah again. And if any bleeping bleeper bleeps the blah out of you I’ll beeping …well you know what I’ll do.”

“Thanks, Mouse.”

 Shelby is for a different time. When I feel like my Greenland is an island of cold, white, old age surrounded by death, I’ll be alone in my barrack’s apartment, and she knocks on my door.

“It’s open,” I tell her. There’s no reason to lock it.

“Are you OK?” she asks, but she can see that I’m not. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

Hmm,… but no. I tell her, leaving out the ‘hmm’.

Big blue eyes stare back at me hopefully.

“Is there anything you can do for you?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I could check the signup sheets for some activity I might enjoy or write in my journal. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a phone.”

But her blue eyes haven’t left mine. She’s still hoping as if she’s coaching the words from my mouth.

“Or I could come up with my own activity and print out sheets for that.”

That’s what she wants to hear from me.

“But the mail came today, Shelby. My world is smaller than it was and the activities that I once enjoyed I’m now too old for and have less people in my life to share what’s left.”

Shelby doesn’t answer. With tears forming in her eyes she buries her face in my chest and wraps her arms around me. For a minute or more, there is nothing but the body heat and empathy between a young, tired woman and a dried-out old man.

“Is it time to plan a hard left turn," she whispers, still embracing me.

“Not yet, Sweety. Not yet."

 My girls…not yours. I imagined them first. Well, maybe the authors played some small part but it’s my imagination that makes them so real. You’re not going to understand any of this until you read the books, and I should get back to telling you why you must read them.  I’m reviewing with my own system of grading.

“Lycanthropic Summer’ is an easy read with profanity, humor, mystery, and the astute observation of an adolescent that showcases her talent but stays within the experiences her years allowed. The book makes good use of fonts and forces you to reevaluate its plot line after you’ve finished the book's last sentence. Do yourself a favor and don’t read ahead. I give it five out of five.

"Flower Power’ is an insightful masterpiece with a firm grip on the history and psychology of the men and women who served at that time in that place. It is fictional, but for each bump in the plot there is a comparable historical twist according to my source, who implies some of his information is still classified. (He brags a lot.) But regardless of whether the plot is meant to mirror actual incidence, Lindsay Lake gives her characters a balance yet makes you care about them. For some that lived during the Vietnam era, the book may bring painful memories which is testament to its truthfulness. For those who have not lived in the era, it’s a must-read lest we forget the lessons the U.S. military learned. The book is a page turner but expect more tears than laughs. I give it five out of five.

Caryn from the werewolf book gets five packs of cigarettes. (To understand my willingness do that, read the book)

Shelby from “Flower Power” gets five red roses.

John Landis on CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF

Wolf Blood 1925 Full Classic Horror Movie HQ

The Werewolf -1913

Five Big Werewolves | Nursery Rhymes | Kids Songs And Kids Video

The Gift of Two Wolves

Up Close and Personal with Young Wolves | Snow Wolf Family And Me | BBC ...

Raise the woof! First Christmas song for dogs

Second Review for "Lycanthropic Summer"

I'm taking an at-home writing retreat and hit a major snag yesterday.

By last night I was tired and discouraged. The chapter of the day needed more work than I'd estimated, and I wound up with less time to address it.

And then this review appeared in my inbox. 

And while the muse didn't suddenly vroom into action, I definitely felt inspired and encouraged.

Or as I wrote back to the reviewer last night, "Kind of like that glass of cold water to the weary traveler in search of Eldorado..."

BTW, he writes in my favorite genre, and I had the honor of editing his book. You can find it here.

So I just finished the book...

Every so often, you read a story that makes you momentarily glance away from the pages and ask yourself, “why can’t I come up with something like THAT?” Other stories have a pacing that feels like perfect cruise control – comfortably mesmerizing – where you just don’t want to stop.

This book has both.

The characters are interesting, the mood was set perfectly to each setting, it’s funny in the right places and overall, really witty. The way you were able to tell the whole story from Caryn’s perspective but in two distinct voices (her diary vs. manuscript) and make it completely seamless was awesome. Loved how she referenced much of her real-life experiences to fuel the story she was writing - that sure rang a bell! LOL. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen next, and I almost felt bad about popping in the bookmark and stopping when I had to, concerned I might not find that pace again, but I did, each time. The descriptions were vivid but not overdone, and even the little expositional tangents still managed to retwine back into the story in one way or another.

As someone still learning (with a LOT to learn) about such nuances in storytelling, this was a good lesson…and a hell of a fun read!

 

Congrats on a kickass story!

Kevin Trusty

www.ktwriting.com

www.radbournsrevenant.com

Here's the First Review for "Lycanthropic Summer"

 Yesterday was a working Sunday AND my youngest son turned a quarter if a century.

So when I signed off the computer yesterday, I didn't jump back online until this morning.

I found this waiting for me on Amazon - and I'm humbled, honored, and awake (I was stumbling around Monday morning fashion until I read this0.

May all of you who write have fans as loyal as this one.

May all of you who read find as great of enjoyment in your books.

And may all of us have a great Monday

 Lyncanthropic Summer has one helluva bite

Reviewed in the United States on October 11, 2020

Verified Purchase

Author, Denise Baran-Unland, banks on the fact that her readers will take her words at face value. She uses words sparingly, but all are carefully chosen to reveal only what she wants the reader to see. Oh, and she hides a lot between the lines.

"Lycanthropic Summer" is one of the most terrifying books I've ever read because its characters appear so normal. Five pages in I found myself identifying with 17-year-old protagonist, Caryn Rochelle. Like Caryn, I was a hostile, snotty and potty-mouthed teen. That was the hook. Once I swallowed it, I deluded myself that I knew where the story was heading.

Summarily, Caryn is obsessed by werewolves and longs to author "The World's Greatest Werewolf Love Story." Again, what girl on the threshold of ripe womanhood isn't drawn to virile and dangerous men? For me it was Bela Lugosi's Dracula, Caryn likes her men dangerous and hairy.

{For instance} the entire romance novel industry thrives on dark desires. The wanton (but virginal) protagonist finds her beast. After playing hard to get for at least ten chapters, she bestows her greatest gift upon him - her maidenhead. Her love transforms him from a beast back into the misunderstood youngest son of Scottish royalty. He sweeps her away to his Edinburgh castle, etc.

 "Lycanthropic Summer" is not a romance novel. Still, I was sort of hoping for a mutually-satisfying resolution. After all, a werewolf is really just a great, big dog, right? Sure, Caryn's werewolf isn't titled, well-groomed or paper trained, but even Lassie had to start somewhere.

 Let's talk terror. If you love stories about sewer-dwelling clowns that devour children, the subtleties of "Lycanthropic Summer" might be wasted on you. Unland's style is closer to Alfred Hitchcock's. One of the most frightening 30 seconds in cinema is the shower scene in "Psycho." Like Hitchcock, Unland doesn't underestimate her reader's imagination. She understands the most terrifying thoughts are locked within our subconscious (and she holds the key).

The story didn't immediately scare me. The terror crept up on me, slowly and inexorably. I was reading alone in the evening, just after dark. Now, I knew the thud issuing from my back porch was Millie the Raccoon stealing cat food, but my heart nearly exploded. I turned on every light in the house and searched all rooms (including closets) for a growling, slobbering werewolf (yes, really). I could not even work up the nerve to open the back door.

At some point, I no longer identified with Caryn, and I realized her veterinarian father and "Aunt Silly" were genuinely creepy - maybe even evil. Like Unland's "Bryony" series, there are fugue states and altered reality that play with your mind and defeat logic. The story could be interpreted in a number of ways, all of them frightening.

Is the boy she finds chained in a rich man's basement the child who mysteriously disappeared with his parents nearly eighteen years ago? Is he a werewolf, a prisoner or mentally ill? Why does Caryn feel a psychic connection to him? Whatever the truth, the unfortunate young man inspires Caryn to write, and what she writes is horrifying. It becomes increasingly clear she has no desire to discover the werewolf's inner-Lassie.

As Caryn spins out of control, existing between the pages of her book, her father and aunt appear stupidly unaware of her plight. There are moments of lucidity in which Caryn is about to put two and two together, but the obsession clouds her logic. When she finally learns the truth, it's too late. Or is it?

A Pair of Werewolves

So in honor of October being Halloween, we at the BryonySeries (that's sounds rather official, doesn't it?) bring you a pair of werewolf books for your reading and eating pleasure.

One is a standalone novel in the series. It's called Lycanthropic Summer and you can read the details here.

The other is called GRRR: Twelve pawtastic werewolf-themed recipes. 

My daughter Rebekah created the entire book, from recipe adaptations to their actual preparation to the assembly of the actual book, including the cover, etc.

Timothy lent his photography skills, and I lent my editing ones (so you may find a few typos).

The recipes are simply laid out, so they're perfect for busy adults who wish to add a bit of whimsy to their Halloween (or any month of the year) or busy parents and grandparents who want a fun project with their grandkids (even if they must cook together virtually).

Buy the werewolf cookbook here.

Illustration draft by Jennifer Wainwright for Lycanthropic Summer.

CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF - 1961

Meet BryonySeries Artist Jennifer Wainwright

A new artist has joined the BryonySeries creative team.

Her name is Jennifer Wainwright, and she is formerly from Southern Illinois.

She is Jasmine's sister, and Jasmine recommended her to us for the creation of our "Welcome to Munsonville" illustration of "Main Street" that greets visitors to the BryonySeries website.

I fell in love with Jennifer's work from the first samples I saw, but I really became impressed when I saw her rendition of Main Street.

So I asked Jennifer to create an illustration for the upcoming BryonySeries novel, Lycanthropic Summer.

Jennifer is available for work (as are all but one of the other BryonySeries artists), in case you need a project done.

Message her at jenniboom94@gmail.com or through me at bryonyseries@gmail.com.

Here then are ten questions to help you get to know Jennifer and her artistic style.

1) When did you start drawing?

I've always drawn. My mother is pretty talented in anything artsy or musical and she passed that on to me. I even have an old composition book with my scribbles in it that I have gone back and redrawn for fun.

2) Did you ever take lessons or are you self-taught?

Starting out I was self taught but really came into my own in junior high art class when I learned proper shading and my teacher really challenged us to think outside the box.

3)  What are your favorite mediums?

I'm really a jack-of-all-trades when I comes to art dabbling: everything from photography to paints to charcoals to pottery, but if I had to pick a favorite media to work with it would probably be a tie between ink of any kind and pastels followed closely by clay.

4) Why do you like them?

I've always loved the contrast of black and white and the depth you can get with shading (I used to love making optical illusions) and pastels are a fairly new adventure for me that I'm enjoying getting the hang of. 

And as for the clay I LOVE the Greek/Roman statues carved from marble and had always thought to sculpt would be fun. In high school I took a pottery class where my teacher loved my ideas and really supported me trying new things and I've been hooked ever since.

5) What types of subject matter do you like to draw?

I love drawing art that invokes feeling, usually by being creepy or dark in meaning. I like drawing landscapes and animals secondly although water and some fur tends to give me a bit of trouble so it takes me longer to finish.

Editor's note: I have her finished illustration and you would never know fur gives her "a bit of trouble."

6) Is there a technique you’d like to learn that you haven’t tried yet?

I've tried quite the variety of techniques through different school projects or commissions for friends but pointillism is one I've been meaning to get to and I have only barely scratched the surface of different paints and I would very much like to get more into those.

Editor's note: pointillism is a nineteenth century technique where tiny dots of paint are used to form images.

7) Tell us about your favorite piece of artwork that you created.

Sadly I can't really give a straight answer as far as my favorite piece of art because I don't really have just one. In fact I seem to have a favorite piece for every different media I use; from a horse fashioned out of clay that stands on only three feet that won me an award to multiple tattoos I have designed for myself and friends.

8) What artist do you admire?

Just about any of the Renaissance artists I have admired and on occasion tried to draw inspiration from.

9) And why?

They were revered as masters of their crafts and made a living making the art they loved which is hard to do then and now.

10) What’s the most fulfilling part about creating art?

I would say I live to create art for others. I love to turn their vision into a tangible piece. I've always been a people pleaser and in fact I enjoy making art for others so much I often have multiple projects of my own in the works that I drop immediately at the chance to make something for someone else whether it be a drawing, a tattoo design, an embroidered hat, or a crocheted afghan.

Werewolf Tropes and Motifs

So I've read a few excerpts from the werewolf novel I'm finishing up (Lycanthropic Summer).

It's structure is unique for, and the tone is, well, as my editor for Before The Blood remarked, "It's definitely not "'Bryony!'"

The novel has three components: part diary, part sub-novel, part flash fiction.

The diary part has three sections (June, July, and August) and each of those sections has entries.

Woven into the diary is the werewolf novel the protagonist is writing - along with flash fiction pieces of very short werewolf stories she's written.

Tropes and motifs in this novel include traditional and lesser known werewolf facts and lore (lycanthropy as mental illness, medical conditions that suggest a werewolf appearance, historical werewolves, and objects associated with werewolves) and a nod to mythology and fairy tales: Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel, Pandora's Box, and The Green Lady.

Cameo appearance by unicorns.

The book also addresses some ethical questions, as you will read in the summary below.

It's not as long as my other novels (will finish up around 60,000 words, I think), but, I hope, it's just as engaging.

It didn't sit in my head as long as Bryony did, but it's probably been there at least a decade as I was still writing Bryony when I had the idea.

Here is its back cover copy:


Caryn Rochelle loves werewolf stories and promised herself she would write the world's greatest werewolf love story before her eighteenth birthday. But with the date just months away, Caryn has shredded more drafts than she's kept and is feeling desperate.

But then she learns the town's most prestigious couple has a dark secret: they're keeping a savage boy her age locked in their basement. One glimpse, and Caryn's inspiration skyrockets. Caryn knows she ought to report them, but...

Can it really hurt to wait until she finishes her story?

Coffee in Hand, Werewolf Story Brewing

Not writing counts as writing as long as the imagination is mentally sifting through ideas, cataloging some and letting others drift away.

I really like to write a good story.

By that, I don't mean to imply I' this "great writer." I mean, I love the process. I love shaping ideas into tangible, readable prose.

Today is my work writing day. It's a long intense day where I write solid drafts of all the stories I'm planning to run in The Herald-News features section over the next week. 

Except in this case, it's a shorter, more intense day because towards the end of it, I have to take someone to the doctor, so I have to be on my focused game even more than usual.

And I love it.

But on the flip side, at the end of the week, my favorite Saturday occupation is writing fiction with supernatural notes. Now that Before the Blood is written, and the last two books are in the editing phase, I'm looking forward to sinking into another novel once the story gets past the percolating stage, although I'm nowhere near that yet.

However, I did write the back cover copy in 2018. It may be tweaked as I go (or maybe not). 

I'm still working on structure, but I do know a few details: first person POV, only three chapters (June, July, August), shorter (about 50,000 words), young adult, a late 1950s or early 1960s setting, a standalone, a "BryonySeries setting (Shelby, but that's the only connection to the last series), a title: "Lycanthropic Summer," and a few characters.

I've got a few characters fleshed out (LOL), and the ending written. The more ideas that ideas surge, the more I'm eager to write it. Pretty good for an idea I had in 2012.

Here's the back cover text:

Caryn Rochelle loves werewolf stories and promised herself she would write the world's greatest werewolf love story before her eighteenth birthday. But with the date just months away, Caryn has shredded more drafts than she's kept and is feeling desperate.

But then she learns the town's most prestigious couple has a dark secret: they're keeping a savage boy about her age locked in their basement. One glimpse, and Caryn's inspiration skyrockets. Caryn knows she ought to report them, but...

Can it really hurt to wait until she finishes her story?