Werewolves aren’t real. Right? Right?
Today—actually tonight I’m continuing my research on werewolves.
Why should I do that since I’ve finished the book?
Yeah. That’s right but I want to do some blogs on werewolves and real wolves in preparation for the release of my book, The Guardian Prophecy.
I started out by rereading Sabine Baring-Gould’s nineteenth century book, The Book of Werewolves (being an account of a terrible superstition). I’ve moved forward in time to Linda S. Godfrey’s Real Wolfmen, True Encounters in Modern America.
Baring-Gould’s book was written in an early Victorian, scholarly style.
But Godfrey? Damn it, woman, you’re scaring the socks off me.
Godfrey’s been writing about werewolves and were-animals for some time, especially in news articles for her Wisconsin community. It seems that Wisconsin is a hotbed of wolfman and dogman sightings. Her straightforward accounts of the experiences of “real” people (and you can’t get more real than people from Milwaukee) are making my skin crawl.
Most people who’ve seen these unusual creatures have hesitated to tell anyone. For good reason. The laughing would bother me, too. But eventually they tell because they hear a similar story from someone else.
The beings are usually muscular, tall with glaring eyes and a toothy “grin”. And they stink—really stink. Witnesses get the feeling that the “animal” is protecting its territory.
Sometimes the animal chases the person away. Sometimes it runs away. Sometimes it growls. Most of the time it glares—and stinks. Did I mention they stink?
The good news is that no one’s been hurt by these—uh—these—er—sightings (for lack of a better word).
The bad news is that there are sightings everywhere. These animals, or whatever they are, have been seen in every state. And they seem to like tall corn fields where there is a stream. Most of the sightings occur between July and November.
Wait.
What?
It’s the middle of August.
Our house is next to a stream and a corn field, out in the middle of nowhere. I can see the field from my office window in the living room/library on the first floor.
I’ll let you know if I smell anything really, really bad.
Mitzi Flyte 