Blog: Today we have Julie
Hall with us. A few months ago, Julie found out her baby Carson is a Werewolf.
She wrote about those adventures in Dark Moon Wolf. You might think
that’s enough excitement for anyone to deal with, but Julie recently had
another set of adventures she chronicled in Waxing Moon, just published.
Julie agreed to join us today and answer some questions.
Julie: Thanks for having
me! I’ve never been interviewed before, so this is kind of exciting.
Blog: So, Julie, let me
get this straight. Your baby Carson is a Werewolf?
Julie: (laughs) I know—I
could hardly believe it myself. Yes, he’s a Were. Before all this happened, I
had no idea that Werewolves even existed! And now I’m the mom of a Were pup.
Blog: What’s the hardest
thing about being a mother to a Werewolf?
Julie: Well, none of it’s
easy. I mean, motherhood in general is hard, isn’t it? Diaper changes and
tantrums and dropped pacifiers. Then just imagine if your baby also turned into
a furry little wolf during the full moon.
Blog: How did he become a
Werewolf? Was he bitten by someone?
Julie: No, that’s the
weird thing. A lot of the mythology around Werewolves is totally wrong. I’m not
sure I should say more, though… I do want you to buy my books and if I give
everything away now…?
Blog: (laughs) Good
point. How old is Carson now?
Julie: He’s six months
old. He first changed into a wolf at four months—that’s the night I found a
baby wolf in his crib—which is very early for a Were to manifest. The
next full moon, I nearly lost him. He changed shape early in the evening before
I had time to get him home and then he just took off across the park. We’d been
having a late picnic with some friends. These were non Werewolf friends,
mind you, regular humans. I’m still amazed my cover story worked. No one saw
the actual transformation, so I just pointed after the wolf and yelled, “Look,
a lost puppy!” and ran after him. I kind of cradled my arms to pretend I was
still carrying Carson while I chased the puppy across the playground. After I
finally caught him, I went right back to the car and texted my friends to tell
them I had a migraine. I don’t even get migraines!
Blog: I can’t imagine
worrying that my baby would sprout fur!
Julie: Yeah, after that
we stay close to home during the three days of the fullest moon.
Blog: So what other
paranormal creatures have you met?
Julie: Witches, of
course. Did you know there are honest-to-goodness witches in the world? With
ritual spells? They call on the four elements to do all sorts of magic.
Blog: Have you learned
any witchcraft?
Julie: Oh no. It’s not
like that. You can’t be taught—you have to be born into the lineage. During my
most recent—what did you call them? Adventures? In my latest book, I talk about
an entirely new paranormal race called Salamanders.
Blog: Salamanders?
Julie: Yes! I see you
haven’t heard of them either. Salamanders have powers associated with the sun.
They control things like light, fire, and heat. Werewolves are connected to the
moon, right? So ’Manders and Weres are kind of antithetical to each other. Some
Werewolves really hate Salamanders.
Blog: Julie, I don’t want
to bring up anything upsetting, but I know that you really loved Carson’s dad
Mac—Roger MacGregor. What’s going on in your love life now?
Julie: (long pause)
Nothing, really. I mean…nothing to talk about…I mean…there was this one guy
recently…well. It didn’t work out. I guess. It’s kind of confusing. I’m not
sure.
Blog: Do you think you
two might get together in the end?
Julie: Well, that’s the
million dollar question, isn’t it? (laughs) Oh, I think I hear Carson fussing.
I’d better go now. It’s been really fun to talk to you, though. Thanks for not
asking any weird questions, like what ice cream flavor I’d be if I were an ice
cream flavor.
Blog: What ice cream
flavor would you be?
Julie: Oh wow. Chocolate
peanut butter? Just because it’s delicious? Anyway, thanks for the interview
and I hope you and your readers take a look at my books!
Blog: Absolutely! Thanks
for being here!
Waxing Moon
Calling the Moon
Book Two
Sarah E. Stevens
Genre: Paranormal
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: 8/18/2017
ISBN: 978-1-5092-1586-7
ISBN: 978-1-5092-1587-4 Digital
ASIN: B073MPTK1Z
Number of pages: paperback 308,
Word Count: ~76k
Cover Artist: Deborah Turner
Tagline: Paranormal arson, rogue wolves, and torn loyalties. How can a mere human mother protect her Werewolf baby?
Book Description:
Julie Hall thinks she has the hang of mothering her Werewolf baby Carson, until the night she wakes to frantic barking and finds her house on fire. Arson. Paranormal fire creatures want to kill Carson—and an unknown Were may be helping them.
As if fire-spawning Salamanders and a mysterious Werewolf aren't dangerous enough, Julie soon faces even closer threats. Her trusted friend Eliza harbors a secret and Julie’s new understanding of Werewolves threatens to tear apart her team. Meanwhile, her relentless enemies will burn everything in their path, if they can’t get to Carson.
Will Julie’s efforts to protect Carson do more harm than good?
Dark Moon Wolf
Book One of Calling the Moon
Available on Amazon
Excerpt
1:
I
jolted awake because of the barking—deep barks that sounded right next to me
even though I slept alone in my bedroom. I sat up before I opened my eyes and
even then, my brain lagged behind. For the first few seconds, I stared at the
flames before understanding my house was on fire.
My
house was on fire.
Carson!
The
curtains at my window burned, flames shooting up toward the ceiling. I stared
at them and almost forgot to move. Then panic poured through me and I jumped
up. I felt disoriented: the blackness, the flames, the smoke beginning to fill
the room, the roar. My heart raced in terror.
My
baby was in this fire.
With
a high-pitched crash, my bedroom windows exploded from the heat, and a shower
of hot glass flew into the room. I reflexively turned away, arms raised to
cover my face. Some of the glass hit me, hot stings against my arms and side,
but I barely felt the pain. Below the thunder of the fire, I heard the smoke
alarm sound a futile warning.
I
didn’t think to drop to my knees, to detour into the bathroom for a wet cloth,
to crawl to Carson’s bedroom. Instead, I ran through the house, breathed in the
choking smoke, felt my hands and feet start to numb from panic.
Fire
filled the hallway to Carson’s room, and I skidded to a frantic stop, unable to
reach him.
Carson!
My
throat so raw from the smoke I couldn't even scream his name. Heat pounded down
the hallway, along with thick black smoke, and flames blocked his door.
The
window! Maybe I could get to him from his window, from outside.
I
whirled, stumbled, and ran back down the hallway. The fire seemed to chase me
until my numb feet tripped on the edge of the area rug and I fell hard, sending
a stab of pain into my arm where some glass stuck.
Landing,
I remembered I should stay on the floor. The air was slightly clearer down
there, and I crawled the last feet to the front door, lined by small paned windows
shattered by heat. Glass pieces bit into my knees as I reached the door, the
doorknob hot in my hand as I turned it.
I
launched myself onto the front stoop, then forced myself off the ground to run
around the side of the house. Flames snaked upward toward the roof; the siding
below was a mass of char. How did the fire erupt so quickly?
I ran to Carson’s window, now a
gaping wound in the siding framed by jagged pieces of glass. The eaves above
sang with rising flame and sheets of smoke poured off the lower walls. My bare
feet sank into mud, deep mud, and I paused for a second, confused because the
water didn’t make sense.
I shook my head to clear it.
Carson. I had to get to Carson.
I
tried to knock out the rest of the glass on the window frame, before I pulled
myself up and over the window. My eyes searched for my baby against in the
darkness—thank all the gods! Somehow, there was no fire in his room. I landed
heavily on the carpet. The floor was wet and cold shocked my skin. I didn’t
have sprinklers—what the hell? I sloshed through inches of water and finally
reached Carson’s crib.
He
cried, which meant he was alive, and my heart leapt. Tears streamed down his
face and his mouth opened in a howl. I grabbed him, held him fiercely and maybe
a little too tight, but he grabbed me right back with arms and legs, burrowed
into my body, rubbed his face into my shoulder. He was soaking wet from tears.
Or—
Something
cracked overhead and I leapt back toward the window, swung my legs up and over
the sill, and dropped down into the mud. I landed heavily on one side with
Carson cradled against me and pain stabbed through my hip. Holding Carson to me
with one arm, I crawled as far as I could—which wasn’t far—then collapsed onto
the ground.
I
looked back at my house. Fire blazed on the roof. Carson still cried; I cried.
We both gasped for air. We were black with soot, with ash, with mud. We were
soaked. I was suddenly freezing. Nothing made sense.
Then
a growl came out of the darkness and chills raced up my spine. I sat up and
turned to see what my body already knew. A huge, black wolf. A Werewolf—it had
to be. Only Weres were that big. But who was he? Why was he here? The wolf
stood mere feet from me with hackles raised and mouth half-open. Red light from
the fire reflected off his teeth. He crouched, muscles taut, ready to spring.
“No!”
I shouted and clutched Carson to me, a surge of anger giving me strength.
Why would a Were attack us?
About the Author:
Sarah's love of reading, writing, and all things fantasy started with her childhood explorations of Narnia, Middle Earth, and Pern. She's a huge enthusiast of all fantasy, paranormal, and science fiction. She's a board game geek, an artist, and a dabbler in making chainmaille jewelry. She loves to write about strong women and their friendships--combined with magic and love, of course.
Sarah, her husband Gary, their three kids, and three cats live in Evansville, Indiana.
PS. None of her kids are actually Werewolves.
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