I have a new series in the works. Actual books in the Sierra Shifters series proper probably won't release before next year, but I hope to have two introductory stories out this year. The first, Can't Fight the Moonlight will release in April (if all goes well) as part of the Shifter Fever anthology.
At the moment, I believe the series will center around the Bitterridge werewolf pack and its Alpha, Klaus (Madclaws) Winterborn. I am enjoying the world building process SO stinking much. You'll note the very distinct naming protocols I'm using. First, last and pack names tend to be compound words. First names tend to highlight personal attributes, while last names and pack names tend to be more about locations, activities, or weather. One of the two heroes of Can't Fight the Moonlight, for example, is a part-werewolf named Coldpelt Moonwalker. On the other hand, there's another wolf mentioned whose name deviates slightly from this norm, being Juniper Sageriver. In addition, shifters will also adopt a human version of their first name--such as Klaus, or Cole or Juan. This is the name they'll use when dealing with humans. Interestingly, the wolves call Josiah Josh. I don't know why that is.
In any event. I expect great things from Madclaws, who'll be going head to head (or toe to toe, or mano e mano--take your pick) with none other than Conrad Quintano when Chasing Daylight releases hopefully later this year! Here's an (unedited, uncorrected, and very first-drafty) excerpt showing him interacting with Josiah Lodge (the vampire hero of Can't Fight the Moonlight).
“Why are you in here so much?” Klaus Winterborn asked as he pulled out a chair at the two-top where Josiah was already seated—his usual table, in one of the Bitter Ridge’s darkest corners. Where he could observe others, without being observed himself.
Josiah—or as he was known here, Josh—arched an eyebrow at the werewolf. “You do go your own way, don’t you?”
“Meaning…?” Klaus replied, casually sipping from his IPA and looking completely at home, which of course he would.
“Meaning that most proprietors would probably have chosen a different form of greeting when addressing a customer.”
Klaus grinned. “Very likely. But as neither of us are ordinary, I don’t quite see your point. And you still haven’t answered the question.”
“You brew good beer,” Josiah said, taking a long, satisfying sip from his pint of amber ale, enjoying the sweet, earthy flavor, reminiscent of chanterelle mushroom.
The Bitter Ridge specialized in wildcraft beers, brewed using a variety of locally foraged wild edibles—much of which Josiah supplied—as well as a menu heavily weighted toward fish and game, which the pack supplied.
“I do brew good beer,” Klaus agreed—no false modesty there. “But seriously…”
Josiah frowned. “Was there a problem with tonight’s delivery?” Josiah had had many jobs and occupations over the course of his already very long life. He’d been a trapper, a prospector, a moonshiner. Foraging was far from the most profitable, but he enjoyed it a good deal more than he had most of the others. Bitter Ridge was not his only client, but he’d be reluctant to lose them for several reasons.
Klaus’s eyebrows rose. “No. Not at all. In fact…” He shifted forward to pull a thick envelop from the back pocket of his jeans then slid it across the table to Josiah. “That’s for you.” He frowned at it for a moment then asked, “I still can’t convince you to accept digital payments, I suppose?”
Josiah chuckled as he tucked the envelope away. “Did you ever have any luck convincing me to accept checks?”
“No.”
“Well then…”
Klaus rolled his eyes. “You know, if you’d simply accept that you’re living in the twenty-first century now, things would be much easier.”
“Not for me, they wouldn’t. Anyway, I prefer cash.” What he actually preferred was gold, but Klaus had no need to know that Josiah regularly traded away most of the paper he received from Klaus for gold and gemstones; things that were easy to carry, easy to hide, hard to destroy—safer and more secure.
Since Klaus was still there, giving no indication this very uncomfortable conversation was over, Josiah tried again. “Do we have some other sort of problem that I should know about?”
Klaus tilted his head from side to side. “Not a problem, per se. But I just feel your being here so much of the time…well, it’s giving the pub something of a reputation.”
“Ah.” Josiah lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip. “Well, you’re welcome.”
Klaus’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting that you’d assume I meant it as a compliment.”
“Didn’t you?” Josiah looked at him. “I mean, considering that I plant suggestions in the minds of everyone I feed from that this was the best night out they’ve had in a while and that they want to come here often to repeat the experience, I took that as a given. Maybe you haven’t noticed the repeat business, but I assure you, it’s there.”
“That’s even more interesting,” Klaus said. “And now I’m surprised we haven’t yet garnered a reputation for overserving our customers.”
“Overserving?” Josiah was surprised into asking. “Is that a thing now?” In his day, back when he was still human and it was possible for him to get drunk, that would have been the sort of reputation a saloon would have welcomed, if not actively fostered.
Klaus—not as old as Josiah, but old enough to share his point of view in this matter—spread his hands. “Apparently, it is. If you can imagine. But that’s not my concern. Some of my wolves… Well, old prejudices die hard, if you know what I mean.”
Josiah nodded. “I think I’m beginning to.” The animosity between shifters and nightwalkers was old and deep and if there had ever been a point to it, Josiah didn’t know what that might have been. But Klaus, whose actual given name was Madclaws, was not just a brewer of excellent beer, he was also the Alpha of the Bitterridge wolf pack. As such, the pack’s needs would always come first with him. I should have known it was too good to last, Josiah thought sadly. “You’re saying your people don’t like the vampire in their midst?”
“Not all of them. And I wouldn’t say that they don’t like you, exactly. It’s more that your presence here makes them uncomfortable.”
“Old roots run deep.”
“Yes.” Klaus shot him a pointedly ironic look. “Unfortunately, you’re far from the only person in my life who’s reluctant to move with the times.”
“This is hardly the same as my not accepting digital payment for my services,” Josiah said dryly.
“No. Of course, it’s not. It’s about people not being willing to open their minds to new ideas and new ways of thinking. They don’t understand your motives for frequenting the place. And, unfortunately, I don’t either. So, I have no idea how to placate them—or even if I should.”
“Do you fish?” Josiah asked.
Klaus blinked at the apparent non sequitur. “I have fished. When I was younger and actually had the timeto indulge in recreational activities. Why do you ask?”
“Well, what if it wasn’t recreational? What if you needed to fish for your sustenance; don’t you think you’d find it beneficial to locate a favorite fishing hole and make some small effort to keep it stocked with your preferred species of fish?”
“You’re saying my bar is your fishing hole?” Klaus asked, looking pained as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “To be honest, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that idea. Never mind what the others might think of it.”
“Well, it’s an imperfect analogy,” Josiah admitted. “I only come here when I have business to conduct. If I stay for a drink, or if I choose to…exchange pleasantries, shall we say…with other customers in your parking lot, that really doesn’t affect you all that much. Other than the repeat business, which, as we discussed, is actually a benefit. So, unless you no longer wish me to forage for you?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m happy with our arrangement and I certainly don’t see any reason to change that based on someone else’s prejudice.” Klaus regarded him for a moment. “So basically, what you’re reallysaying is that your being here is more a matter of your wanting to kill two birds with one stone than anything else. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Make it three birds,” Josiah corrected. He lifted his glass. “And then, yes I do. But we really can’t forget about the beer, now can we?”
“No, we certainly cannot.” Klaus lifted his own glass. The two men toasted each other and drank. “Very well, then. This is my problem. I’ll deal with it.”
“Thank you,” Josiah said quietly. He was grateful that the wolf was, in essence, willing to go to bat for him with his own people. While it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things, it would have been disappointing to have lost this place. Ever since he’d lost his family, he’d been alone. Being able to occasionally spend time in a place where he didn’t have to hide what he was, among people who knew his true nature even if they didn’t share it, was priceless. But he knew better than to abuse the privilege.
Finishing his beer, Josiah climbed to his feet and shrugged into his outerwear. “All right, I’m off,” he said. “Run well. Clear trails to you.”
Klaus saluted with his glass. “Clear trails and good hunting.”
With that, Josiah turned toward the door. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps, however, before Klaus called over his shoulder. “Say, how’s my breastplate doing these days?”
Josiah turned slowly back around. “You mean my breastplate? It’s still safe and sound, thanks for asking.”
Klaus shrugged. “Just so you know, if you ever do change your mind about that, my offer still stands.”
Josiah nodded. “If I ever change my mind, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
“Very well,” Klaus said as he lifted his glass again. “Can’t ask for more than that.”
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