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by Holly Hunt
Description: Upon a dark and blood-filled hour, humanity's doom will rise to powerâ?¦ Werewolves are real. They haunt the woods of North America, feeding on the bodies of humans stupid enough to blunder across their paths. Once rogue and uncoordinated, the rise of their goddess Alsvinth has brought them all together, with one goal: destroy as much of the species as necessary to enslave them within meat farms, to feed the werewolf army taking over the world. Olivia, a werewolf from western Canada, and her brother Charlie set out to kill the goddess and save humanity. But can the werewolf and human destroy the goddess's power, or will she prevail and turn the planet into a wasteland? Excerpt: "Enough, Olivia," a familiar voice hissed. I stopped, shocked and scared to stillness. I started to cry as the goddess stood in the grass, kicking Charlie's body aside and sauntering over to me. "Thank you, children of the sky," Alsvinth purred, resting a hand on the shoulder of each harpy. They let me go as she touched them. "My, Olivia. How you've grown." I was still. I couldn't even think. "Well, not really. You don't age anymore, do you?" She grinned. "Like me, eternally beautiful." The creature in a woman's skin touched my forehead, and I couldn't even flinch from her cold, dead fingertips. "No matter. You will become my second-in-charge. You have been so faithful as to convince the rogue to kill himself to strengthen me." She kissed my forehead. "Dear Olivia," she said as the obliviousness of her mind control took me, threw me to the wolves. "You are mine."
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Damnation Books, 2012 2012
eBookwise Release Date: June 2012
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [222 KB]
Reading time: 120-168 min.
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The wolf stalked through the undergrowth as quietly as possible. There was a human out here, camping with its family. It had wandered away from its fellows, a mere pup, probably only seven or eight years old. Its flesh wouldn't sustain the creature for long, but maybe long enough for her to leave this country, to fly to a new continent. North America was starting to weigh on her spirit.
The tan-furred wolf crept forward, careful to make no sound. The songbirds of the forest had vanished, hiding from her unnatural presence in the pre-dawn light. She trod carefully, not willing to disturb the tranquil nature of the artificial twilight under the trees. Her paws made no noise on the soft lichen and grasses growing between the trees. It was almost picture perfect, this forest, which was one of the reasons that it was so popular with tourists... Like walking into a fairy-tale...Goldilocks, perhaps...or Little Red Riding Hood...
The wolf halted, frozen, as the wind blew gently through the trees, bringing the scent of the child's blood and flesh to her keen nose. It smelt as a fawn does on a spring day--musky, bloody, warm.
The scent was driving the wolf mad with hunger, making her mouth water, her muscles tense in hope. She crouched lower, approaching more slowly, cautiously, than she had been. The child was close, she could smell it. Very soon the wolf would be able to see it.
"Hello, doggy," a high, childish voice cooed near her right shoulder.
The wolf jumped and spun to face the child, snarling and licking her lips. It was a plump one, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, dressed in mud and a pair of trousers. Its shoulder bled from where a branch hit it, stomping through the forest on an early Saturday morning, just on the high of the full moon.
"What a cute doggy," the child cooed, stepping closer and holding out its hand.
The wolf licked her lips, crouching low, ready to spring. The child was coming toward her of its own will, coming to its doom, the blood on its shoulder tempting the wolf's hunger...so tempting...stirring the hunger to breaking point....
The child touched its fat little hand to the wolf's nose, running it up between her eyes to scratch behind her ears. The wolf lashed out, grabbing the child's arm between her teeth and biting down. The little girl whacked the wolf on the snout with its other hand, and she let its arm go, snarling at the blonde child.
The wolf growled, but something in the child's tone made her hesitate. The child threw its arms around the wolf's neck and buried its face in her fur. The creature started to relax like a dog enjoying the hug of its master.
"Olivia!" a human called through the trees, and snapped the wolf out of its daze.
The wolf lashed out at the child again, ripping at its side with her claws. The child screamed and the tan wolf sank her teeth into its shoulder, hearing a scream of terror and pain from what seemed like miles away.
That cry was much closer, the sound of a rather large male human.
"Get away!" the male yelled, hefting an axe in the wolf's peripheral vision.
The paranormal wolf knew the danger that single instrument presented to her. It was the one instrument that could kill a werewolf--aside from the curved, sharp claws of another werewolf, that is. Fear overtook her, sending the wolf wild, and she reached out for the hunter with her jaws, trying to injure his wielding arm, to prevent him from hurting it in his rage.
Pain sliced down the wolf's side as she leapt on him, the pain forcing her back. He'd hit her with the axe--nothing else would penetrate the wolf's fur, not a stick, knife, stone, gun, nothing. The wolf backed off, growling at the man, stepping backwards carefully. Fear fought the hunger, and it seemed hunger was winning.
The wolf leapt at his face and something grabbed her tail, pulling her backwards. The wolf turned to snap at the creature holding her tail, catching the female human's arm in her mouth. The wolf shook it, tasting the sweetness of her blood--nothing in the world tasted greater than human flesh.
The woman hefted a blade, bringing it down on the wolf's shoulder. The blade glanced off the wolf's fur, leaving not so much as a scratch in the paranormal being's flesh. Blood dripped to the ground from the woman's left arm as she punched the wolf in the muzzle with the other, forcing her jaws open in a yelp.
The wolf backed down, reluctantly leaving its prey on the ground of the forest, protected by the older humans. Maybe the blood she had already ingested would keep her satisfied until better prey could be found.
The wolf turned tail and jumped over the child's body, heading for the line of trees, feeling blood drip down her fur. The pain in the wolf's back from the male's axe-blow spiked as wood and branches caught in it, as though the humans had some control over the world around them.
A scream echoed through the trees behind the wolf. The sound made her heart clench, and the wolf started charging through the woods, paying no mind to the trees, stones, logs in her way, seized by the panic that cry created within her.
The ground was suddenly gone from under the wolf's feet, and she flew out into the open air, off the cliff's edge and down, down to the deep mountain lake below her.