Yes, it’s that time again. This week I’m going to share 8 sentences from my work in progress, Cry Wolf. An Alternate History paranormal romance, it’s part of a series I’ve planned.
After checking out my snippet, head over to Weekend Writing Warrior page and read all the great excerpts showcased there.
Cry Wolf, Book I of the Weryn Chronicles
~the Set Up~
By the 1500’s England had eradicated the wolves from their land and in my story, the only way the wolves survived was to take human form, taking the name of Weyrn. Now, walking on two legs, they survive only under the subjugation of the English aristocracy. Born with the same sharp senses and ability to run faster, jump higher, they are relentless fighters and have a deep sense of family. In order to keep them under control, their masters have torn apart their packs and now they live apart, with very few exceptions. Pursued by the Royal Hunting Society, and ‘owned’ by their betters, the Weryn bloodlines are slowly dying out once again.
Nicholas Draverly, a Weyrn soldier who is fresh from the Spanish conflict and is awarded by the Crown with a small estate in Cornwall. Weary from war, wanting only to live out the rest of his life in seclusion, his plans are shattered when a female Weyrn attacks him on the road as he travels to his new home.
A young female, Mara, is desperate to find her sisters after her family home had been attacked and burned by the RHS, Barely able to escape, she was given the name of one Weryn male, rumored to be a prince, one who is said to possess the book of Families, which, written in code, has the locations of all the Weryn families. She knows the only way to save her family, her entire race is to convince the prince to take up her cause. Added to that, she has is going into ‘heat’ and must quickly find a mate, or die. And when a female of her kind bites or scratches their ‘true’ mate, the male’s body chemistry is changed and if the two don’t join, they will both perish.
The name of the male she must find? Nicholas Draverly…
“The prey is waiting.”
The female sniffed the air.
Blood. The tangy scent mingled in the misty morning, stirring her hunger and setting her heart to a frenzied pace.
“He is waiting. Yours to consume if you dare to claim him.”
And dare, she did, for she was no longer just a simple Yorkshire girl barely on the shelf. She was a huntress and the male was somewhere nearby…
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