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Shara Wellington is a shy, almost invisible young woman on her college campus, but Professor Josef Ulrik sees something in her and offers her a way to overcome her self-doubt. Reluctant at first, Shara finally accepts his Gift, but being a werewolf in the human world is simply a different set of problems.
Then something happens with Shara and she suddenly becomes the focus of the Pack. Will she be the one to bring into the world the long-awaited Alpha? Some want to celebrate her, but others want to destroy her.
Shara was originally published by a small genre publisher that went out of business. It was picked up by another, but after several years it, too, went out of business. At that point, I self-published the current edition. I do not know how many copies the first two publishers sold. Sales under my imprint are slow but steady.
Shara is the first book in a series, followed by Ulrik, then Nadia's Children, with a new book, First Born, coming in October 2023.
Shara bowed her head, but it did not occur to her to pray. God would not listen. Shara lifted her eyes to face the innocent soul who suffered the consequences of her chosen sin.
The baby stirred in his sleep. His small head rose from the mattress of the crib and dropped back onto the padding. His tiny fists clenched and slowly uncurled – but not all the way. The little fingers remained partially bent, clawing at the capering figures of Bambi and Thumper printed on the crib sheet. Sunlight filtered through the cheery curtains of the windows; the bars over the apertures cast long, dark shadows on the pale carpet. Over the crib, a wooden plaque inscribed with ancient Nordic runes was meant to hold evil at bay. The room smelled of talcum powder and ointments, with the odor of dirty diapers underlying all.
“Little Joey, I’m so sorry,” Shara whispered as she looked over the rail of the crib. “Why did I ever bring you into this world? I knew how it would be for you. I’m sorry.” She pulled her rocking chair closer to the crib and sat so she could see through the bars. She watched her infant son and rolled the syringe between her palms. It wouldn’t be long before the fit overcame him. It wouldn’t be long before...
Shara’s husband put his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. Shara twisted her neck to look into his face as he stood behind her chair. His hair, nearly as dark as her own, was mussed from his nervous habit of running his hands through it. His brow wrinkled and his eyes squinted, his glasses forgotten in some other room. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Carlos Diaz
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