Discover the world of author Aidee Ladnier in Wolf Around the Corner and don't forget to enter the giveaway withing the post for some great prizes such as ebooks, gift cards and more from the author.
Now let's talk to one of the characters from Wolf Around the Corner....
Name of character: Frank Braden
Thanks for sitting down with me today. Tell us a
little about yourself.
Um, well. There’s not that much to tell. I grew up in the small town of Hendersonville and then after high school I moved to Waycroft Falls. I’m the assistant manager at a local bookstore, The Little Dorrit Bookshop. Our store came in third last year at the Founders Day Bed Races. My life is pretty quiet. Or at least it was until my friend Annie—she owns the bookshop—invited her brother home for the summer to open the new performance space in the upstairs floor of the bookshop.
I understand you have some kind of special power. Can you tell us about it?
Not really a power. I can turn into a wolf. Which isn’t necessarily special, just rare. It’s not something I talk about. People don’t always treat me the same once they know that about me. Like, um, my family. That’s why I don’t live in the town where I grew up. Nobody really knows about my, um, special power, here in Waycroft Falls.
Um, well. There’s not that much to tell. I grew up in the small town of Hendersonville and then after high school I moved to Waycroft Falls. I’m the assistant manager at a local bookstore, The Little Dorrit Bookshop. Our store came in third last year at the Founders Day Bed Races. My life is pretty quiet. Or at least it was until my friend Annie—she owns the bookshop—invited her brother home for the summer to open the new performance space in the upstairs floor of the bookshop.
I understand you have some kind of special power. Can you tell us about it?
Not really a power. I can turn into a wolf. Which isn’t necessarily special, just rare. It’s not something I talk about. People don’t always treat me the same once they know that about me. Like, um, my family. That’s why I don’t live in the town where I grew up. Nobody really knows about my, um, special power, here in Waycroft Falls.
When did you discover you were able to shift?
I first manifested my Galen’s Syndrome at sixteen. It was after school, on the track. My team was doing drills in preparation for our next meet. One minute I was racing down the track with a teammate on my heels and the next I hit the ground because my legs didn’t work right. Or rather, they worked fine, but wolves don’t normally wear clothes and my legs were all tangled in my shorts. Luckily my coach knew what was happening because I sure didn’t.
I first manifested my Galen’s Syndrome at sixteen. It was after school, on the track. My team was doing drills in preparation for our next meet. One minute I was racing down the track with a teammate on my heels and the next I hit the ground because my legs didn’t work right. Or rather, they worked fine, but wolves don’t normally wear clothes and my legs were all tangled in my shorts. Luckily my coach knew what was happening because I sure didn’t.
Did you have special education or
training to hone your power?
Well, my mom died when I was little. I’m not in contact with anyone from her family. I think they live in Canada? My dad’s family doesn’t have any manifestors, just carriers. I’m the lone wolf. My dad took me to a Galen’s meet up when I was in first grade, but it was across the country and other than that I’ve never met anyone else like me. So, no, I guess you could call me self-educated?
Do you consider your power a gift or a curse? Why?
Technically, Galen’s Syndrome is a genetic curse. That means one of my ancestors was cursed with lycanthropy and turned into a wolf temporarily. The curse wrapped around his DNA and because lycanthropy is a curse that’s never been broken, it’s traveled down the genetic line. In other words, the curse gene passed to his children and to their children’s children like a mutation. Luckily it’s recessive, so unless your mother and your father both have the cursed gene (like I do), you don’t manifest the curse. It’s recognized by the medical community as similar to a rare genetic disorder.
How does having this power complicate your life?
Well, when I was in high school my classmates toilet papered my house and hung a papier-mâché wolf from one of our trees. It wasn’t easy for my family after everyone found out in my hometown. That’s why I’m hesitant to tell that many people here in Waycroft Falls. What if they're afraid of me or think I pose a danger or something. I’d have to move again and...well, I like it here.
I heard you wrote the play that’s being performed at the bookshop?
Yeah. It’s a version of Beauty and the Beast merged with the story of The Loathly Lady. Beauty and the Beast is basically a woman that’s held captive by a beast who asks her to marry him every night at dinner. The Loathly Lady, on the other hand, is from the Arthurian Legends and pivots around a choice. In it a knight marries a hideous woman who offers him a choice of either a beautiful woman during the day with a hideous bedmate at night or a beautiful woman in bed with a hideous wife during the day. Similarly, in this play Beauty has to make a choice between a Beast who woos her in her day-to-day life or a prince who is only present in her dreams.
And you’re playing the lead part, too?
That’s what Tom, Annie’s brother who’s directing the play, wants. I can shift halfway and he’s sure that having a shifter in a play would be something new and different. But I’m not an actor. We’ve gotten pretty close and he’s assured me that he can teach me to act. I want to help Tom and Annie, and Tom...well, Tom’s gorgeous and just my type. But it would mean revealing that I’m a shifter to the entire town. I’m just not sure I’m ready to do that.
Well, my mom died when I was little. I’m not in contact with anyone from her family. I think they live in Canada? My dad’s family doesn’t have any manifestors, just carriers. I’m the lone wolf. My dad took me to a Galen’s meet up when I was in first grade, but it was across the country and other than that I’ve never met anyone else like me. So, no, I guess you could call me self-educated?
Do you consider your power a gift or a curse? Why?
Technically, Galen’s Syndrome is a genetic curse. That means one of my ancestors was cursed with lycanthropy and turned into a wolf temporarily. The curse wrapped around his DNA and because lycanthropy is a curse that’s never been broken, it’s traveled down the genetic line. In other words, the curse gene passed to his children and to their children’s children like a mutation. Luckily it’s recessive, so unless your mother and your father both have the cursed gene (like I do), you don’t manifest the curse. It’s recognized by the medical community as similar to a rare genetic disorder.
How does having this power complicate your life?
Well, when I was in high school my classmates toilet papered my house and hung a papier-mâché wolf from one of our trees. It wasn’t easy for my family after everyone found out in my hometown. That’s why I’m hesitant to tell that many people here in Waycroft Falls. What if they're afraid of me or think I pose a danger or something. I’d have to move again and...well, I like it here.
I heard you wrote the play that’s being performed at the bookshop?
Yeah. It’s a version of Beauty and the Beast merged with the story of The Loathly Lady. Beauty and the Beast is basically a woman that’s held captive by a beast who asks her to marry him every night at dinner. The Loathly Lady, on the other hand, is from the Arthurian Legends and pivots around a choice. In it a knight marries a hideous woman who offers him a choice of either a beautiful woman during the day with a hideous bedmate at night or a beautiful woman in bed with a hideous wife during the day. Similarly, in this play Beauty has to make a choice between a Beast who woos her in her day-to-day life or a prince who is only present in her dreams.
And you’re playing the lead part, too?
That’s what Tom, Annie’s brother who’s directing the play, wants. I can shift halfway and he’s sure that having a shifter in a play would be something new and different. But I’m not an actor. We’ve gotten pretty close and he’s assured me that he can teach me to act. I want to help Tom and Annie, and Tom...well, Tom’s gorgeous and just my type. But it would mean revealing that I’m a shifter to the entire town. I’m just not sure I’m ready to do that.
Genre: M/M Paranormal
Shifter Contemporary
Buy Links:
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Frank’s
family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s
brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love
could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart.
Settled in the small town of
Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket
fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s
brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling
his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him
with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if
Tom is only acting.
Tom ran away from family
obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it
anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s
new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that
would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast.
Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy
wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed.
Wolf Around The Corner, a
paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a
full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your
romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around
the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold!
Excerpt:
The first thing he always
did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His
animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse
skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the
apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him,
his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked
his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out
of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle
growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he
blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any
longer. He sprang into the woods.
Frank ran, crashing through
the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a
shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The
animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the
forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood.
His paws skidded on a pile
of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen
log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of
mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen
sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor.
Dry twigs snapped beneath
his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods
painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky
inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky
and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and
fungi cradling him as he panted.
As he caught his breath,
the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A
harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a
cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And
the still of twilight calmed him.
When he’d rested enough
that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the
apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the
woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s
liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building
led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain.
But his clothes weren’t
there.
The sky darkened into
night.
Frank knew Mrs. Anderson
was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him
inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs.
Or he could stay in wolf
form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control
and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog.
Or wait, a third option.
There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the
second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human
and sprinted across the yard.
He leaped for the lower
boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank
swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped
his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate
parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing
as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on
the side that faced the apartment house.
Frank balanced upright, his
arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself.
The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t
let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window.
Using the taller branch as
a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from
the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested
its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves
at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more.
An ominous crack sounded
beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He
could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it.
Frank jumped. And missed
the house, falling into the azalea bushes.
Just as his hunky new
neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the
front steps.
Frank had seen Tom in the
hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had
introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed
the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a
movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the
weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank
wished had happened. What went down was:
“Need help?” Frank barely
got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze.
God, the man was gorgeous.
“Naw, man. I got it.” Tom
shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.”
Frank wiped a clammy hand
on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had
disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy
he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot.
Tom tilted his head as if
he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this
time of year.”
Frank didn’t dare correct
him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse.
“Okay, well then, see you
around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment.
Meanwhile Frank beat it
down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran
over the exchange fail again and again.
So yeah. That was the less
than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank
followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes.
“Are you okay?” The gleam
from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer
over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like
a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet.
Too bad Frank was a naked
man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making
himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract
Tom from looking at his hairy backside.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Tom leaned
closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?”
Frank racked his brain for
some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of
the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.”
“Oh my God. Did you fall
from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window
and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?”
Frank sighed. This
conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank
rose from behind the bushes.
“I’m okay. Just need to get
back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security
door.”
Tom’s eyes widened when
Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in
leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn
strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out.
“Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled
for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut
burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet
dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods.
Frank took the stairs two
at a time to escape.
After a shower and
shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair
receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his
bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite
him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an
ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into
the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and
approachable. He could do this. He had game.
“Hey, I know you don’t know
many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with
me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a
loser.
“Yo, you want to watch
football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican
wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports?
“I ordered two large pizzas
by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni
for a week.”
Lame. Frank’s own gaunt
features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be
the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse.
Galen’s syndrome was rare,
only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had
at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy
to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree.
Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were
passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been
re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with
modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and
molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of
the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television
feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology.
All Frank knew was the
recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already
been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had
been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to
protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It
wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children.
It had gutted him. They
turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid,
lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the
tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then
he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family.
So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in
Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult
things he still hadn’t figured out.
Like how to ask out a guy
who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had
been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the
white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side.
But on the plus side, small
towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He
should take his clothes with him
~*~*~*~*~*~
GIVEAWAY
Aidee is giving away a $5
Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her
backlist. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the
RaffleCopter below to enter. Don't forget you have a chance to enter every day
so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.
About the Author
Aidee
Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, believes that
adventure is around every corner. In pursuit of new experiences she's worked as
a magician’s assistant, been a beauty pageant contestant, ridden in hot air
balloons, produced independent movies, hiked up a volcano, and is a proud
citizen scientist. A lover of genre fiction, Aidee's perfect romance has a
little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a
zing.
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