The Death and Resurrection of a Werewolf

My werewolf novel Shara will officially go out of print by 3F Publications on March 31, 2005. I would have asked that it be taken out sooner, but I may still buy a few more copies to have for the conventions I’m attending this year. As noted here earlier, the book will reappear at an as-yet undetermined date under the Scrybe Press banner with Kirk Alberts’ fantastic art and an introduction by Garrett Peck. And with some little errors of mine cleaned up (clarifying that Shara is in heat during her forced monthly change, for instance). I was going to tone down some sex scenes, but after discussing it briefly with Garrett and reading over the comments made by readers on Kelley Armstrong’s discussion group, I probably won’t do that. The sex is important to the story.

I’ve been toying with this idea for a short werewolf piece based on science. But I want to write it as a research paper refuting the legendary description of how the Pack came to be and offering a scientific explanation for shapeshifting. It would be written as though it is a real academic paper by a werewolf professor (no, not Ulrik). But I don’t know if I would just add that to The Werewolf Saga site or actually try to get it published somewhere. I have no idea who would publish a bogus research paper as a short story. One possibility is if a respectable Web site would have me as a featured author when either Call to the Hunt or the new Shara is released — you know, one of those things where they do an interview and feature a piece of work from the author. This thing I have in mind is really nothing more than a bit of advertising for the books, hopefully to be told in a fun narrative.

What’s really funny is that the scientific idea I’m toying with came from a science book I absolutely hated but had to read for one of my graduate classes. I never would have guessed I’d consider using something from that book.

The day job calls. I’m really tired, though. Jacob would not go to sleep until after midnight, and that was in my bed, so once he was gone I had to carry him to his own bed. Spoiled little booger.

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