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Fangtastic Tales of Werewolf Savagery by Toneye Eyenot will be unleashed through Luniakk Publications on March 21 – next Full Moon – at $3.99 Kindle. Preorder between now and the 21st for only $1.99!
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Cover created by the always fangtastic Mar G-A. (Disturbing Drawings©)
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La Lluna Plena – the Full Moon – that beautiful and mysterious celestial body which stirs within us all those deep, dark emotions we do our best to subdue and control. For some of us, her influence runs deeper, much deeper. We all walk beneath her maddening rays, yet, while most may shrug off the notion that inside us all resides a beast – a savage wolf – there are those of us who embrace the monster within and ride that lunatic wave with abandon each time she casts her gaze upon us.
Some see it as a blessing, others…a curse. To be bitten, and fall prey to murderous urges beyond our control, or to have the good fortune to be born into the pack, or perhaps even to whisper words of spell in order to evoke the lycanthropic gift, there are more than a few ways to cast aside the human skin and let loose the wolf within. Those ways are explored throughout this collection of werewolf terrors.
Suspend disbelief, dear reader, because whether you care to admit it, or continue to live in ignorant bliss, we walk among you. We smell the blood as it courses through your veins and taste your fear on the breeze. We long to see the life drain from your quivering flesh as we gorge. Beware the Full Moon, as you are about to enter the world of the Werewolf.
~ Toneye Eyenot
“I’ve always been more of a werewolf fan than of those traditionally over-romanticised vampires. Give me the brute force, bestial power and probable risk of fleas over the daylight-shunning corpse-jockeys any day. That being said, I’ve not really read any decent werewolf fiction for a long, long time. Until I read Toneye Eyenot’s Fangtastic Tales of Werewolf Savagery that is, a collection of short stories and a novella, that all feature the hunt-fueled activities of lycan kind.” ~Casey Douglas
See full review here
From Blood Moon Big Top, A Clown/Werewolf novella, revised. This was unpublished around a year ago. Finally, Marbles returns in all his terrifying glory.
“Marbles? Are you OK?”
“Sure, Gus. At least, I think so. The last twenty-four hours have been a bit of a blur. I do feel a little out of sorts.” Marbles was a very private man, and relaying to his colleague the current state of his health was hard enough. He didn’t tell Gus that he had been sleeping the whole time. Nor did he tell him why. Who would believe him anyway? The red mark on his hand had faded again, considerably so. To anybody who took notice, Marbles looked more like he was tending a hangover, or perhaps a bad cold or flu.
“Cheers, Gus,” he said, and downed the coffee in one gulp. As the tasteless liquid travelled down his throat to his empty stomach, Marbles heaved violently. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with wet, mushy paper. The horrid feeling filled his throat and rumbled in his guts. He looked up at Gus with a dismayed expression, his eyes watering profusely behind the dark glasses.
“What the…” he couldn’t finish his sentence. It hurt to speak.
“You don’t like?” Gus asked. He looked at the clown with concern, tinged with a little indignation at Marbles’ reaction to his brew.
“I – don’t feel – well,” Marbles managed to say in a staggered voice, and then collapsed in a heap on the ground…
From Hunter’s Moon – What do a pack of Werewolves get up to in the Blue Mountains of NSW, Australia? A bit of this and a bit of that…
Though the accommodation might be crude – six small cages to house the thirteen participants – and apart from the branding, we take good care of our prisoners. We make sure they are adequately fed, allow them out to bathe once a day. For half an hour each day, we chase them through the bush. Ether monitors the prisoners intently from his vantage point atop a large rock, before herding them up and returning them to their cages.
We don’t molest them, or otherwise harm them in any way. We have chosen them because they look as though they might have a sliver of a chance. We want our prey to be as close to the top of their game as they can be, under the circumstances. We cannot dishonour the Hunter’s Full Moon with broken, compromised offerings…
From Dire – A cat burglar finds himself in all kinds of trouble, when he discovers his client is not all he seems to be.
“Splendid!” the man gleefully retorted. “Follow me. I have the rest of your…payment.” This last word sent Milton into a mild swoon, and he placed his hand on the wall beside him to steady himself before complying with what seemed an irresistible command.
Doors swung open before him and the soft light spilled out to the hallway, casting an unearthly incandescence around the silhouette of his host which made him shimmer in and out of visibility right before his eyes. Terror gripped his entire being, but Milton was compelled forward, into the room beyond.
“Show me,” the man commanded, and Milton stiffly removed the bag from his shoulder, placed it on a small table and retrieved the fossil, passing it to the man with shaking hands. He snatched it from Swift and gazed at it for a few moments in awed silence. “Sit,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the magnificent paw print he now held in his eager hands. Once again, and completely devoid of any resistance, Swift complied…
From Human Skin – Two private investigators and one unlikely suspect. The results are catastrophic, to say the least.
“So, what do you think did it?” Alex asked, glancing from the gruesome scene to Jason and back again, unable to keep his gaze from the gore which spread over a large area of floor and spattered the nearby wall in a macabrely artistic display.
Jason drew in a deep breath, and instantly gagged on the stench of death engulfing his nostrils. “I’m afraid to correct you,” he choked. “You won’t believe me.”
“C’mon. Quit being so cryptic and spit it out,” Alex snapped at his understudy, his patience quickly wearing thin. “We already have a mystery here without you adding to the mindfuck.”
Jason fidgeted anxiously, shifting his eyes everywhere but on Alex. Such a preposterous notion, even he was finding it hard to believe, although he had seen it for himself. He knew that as soon as he voiced his theory, Alex would either burst into hysterics, or slap him upside his head.
“I think it’s more a question of who, not what,” Jason finally replied…
From The Tomb of Legion – A shaky, 70 year truce between Vampires and Werewolves is unceremoniously shattered when the Vampire Lord, Legion is set free from his tomb by a coven of duplicitous witches.
The tomb of Legion, at a cursory glance, looked to have been ransacked – desecrated. Its splintered doors hung loose and shattered from age old hinges. Bailen approached with caution, all of his senses on high alert. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that nobody had entered the tomb to facilitate the ancient Vampire’s escape. The decimated doors hung outwards and the ground outside was littered with wooden debris. The devastation had come from within.
Upon this realisation, a deep growl rumbled in Bailen’s chest. After seventy years of relative peace, built upon a tenuous truce between Bailen’s kind and the Vampire hordes, their unholy master, Legion was free.
Bailen strained to listen above the night breeze, rustling the leaves through the magnificent oaks, imposing elms and heavily scented pine trees that interspersed throughout the cemetery grounds. He could sense that he wasn’t alone; an instinctual knowing that raised his hackles and raced his heart. This discovery was entirely unexpected…