Sangay Glass's Blog - Posts Tagged "ecology"

Some say wolves walk between worlds.
Not quite spirit, not quite flesh.

They know all the things we’ve forgotten—

How to grieve with the wind.
How to wait without fear.
How to leave no trace but change everything.

When they look at us, they don’t just see what we are.

They see what we could become.

This Summer:


We Were Meant to be Wolves

An psychological eco-thriller with a supernatural twist.

She crossed a line meant to protect the wolves— now
they own her body and soul.

Because sometimes the truth bites back—hard.

Most wolves and wolfdogs aren’t surrendered because they’re dangerous.

They’re surrendered because they’re misunderstood.

They weren’t born broken.
They weren't born to be wild.
We just expect them to behave otherwise.

This theme runs deep in We Were Meant to Be Wolves, a story rooted in real-world wolf conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

If you’ve ever worked in rescue or fallen in love with something untamable—you’ll feel this one in your bones.

We Were Meant to Be Wolves to be released this summer.

If you're looking for something now, Ledge Pond is a psychological wilderness survival thriller. Available now. Please read the TWs though. It's wild.

What if wolves naturally expanded their territory into the Adirondacks?

Not in theory. Not in textbooks. But flesh and breath—moving through trees we thought were ours alone.

Some would call it progress. Others, a threat.

Jess, an ecologist studying a breeding pair in the Adirondacks, used to be on one side. Now she’s not so sure.

Because when wolves return, so do the questions:

Who gets to decide what belongs?

What do we owe the wild?

And what happens when we mistake fear for protection?

This theme runs deep in We Were Meant to Be Wolves—a story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

If you’ve ever worked in rescue… or fallen for something untamable—you’ll feel this one in your bones.

We Were Meant to Be Wolves — a psychological eco-thriller about wolves and the fine line between conservation and control that bites back. Coming this summer.

Craving a wilderness psycho-thriller with bite? Ledge Pond is available now.

We Were Meant to Be Wolves
Wolves don’t second-guess.
They don’t beg the forest to love them.
They live as they are—rough, graceful, necessary.
They carry no shame for the hunt,
no guilt for the kill.
And yet, they love fiercely,
mourn their dead,
and move like ghosts stitched into the land.
When I watch them, I remember:
The world doesn’t need us to be perfect.
It needs us to belong.
To find our place in the rhythm of things—
not above it, not apart from it,
but within it.
We were meant to be wild,
to feel the wind and not apologize,
to run toward what matters,
and let the rest fall away.
—Jess Taylor

Coming This Summer:

Jess Taylor's body lies rotting in the woods.

The man who killed her is still alive—and she’s still standing right beside him.

Ten years after surviving a wolf encounter that claimed her sister’s life, wildlife ecologist Jess returns to the field to study a newly discovered breeding pair in the Adirondacks.

But when she crosses the line between conservation and control, she pays for it—with her body and soul.
Now back from the dead—she’s disoriented, untethered, and not entirely human.

To uncover what happened, Jess must confront the research, the bribes, the betrayals… and the man who couldn’t save her—or stop her.

The Adirondack wilderness may not offer redemption.

But it just might spark an evolution.

This theme runs deep in We Were Meant to Be Wolves, a story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear.

If you’ve ever worked in rescue or fallen in love with something untamable—you’ll feel this one in your bones.

Not that long ago—just over a century—these woods were stripped bare. The trees here built cities like New York, Albany, and Buffalo. What’s wilderness now was once cleared to the stone. Only the least accessible places stayed untouched. The rest? Clearcut, churned, and eroded to bedrock.

When the country began waking up to the value of wild spaces—when science and health movements pushed for cleaner air, protected land, and something like ecological harmony—the Adirondacks were a wreck. But people came anyway, drawn by the scars and the silence.

Early hikers followed rock. Trails formed not by design but by necessity—stone ridgelines, logging scars, deer paths. Over time, dirt settled. Trees returned. But with bedrock so close to the surface, their roots had no choice but to grow outward—across trails, over rock, twisted like veins.

That’s why Adirondack trails are brutal. No switchbacks. No smoothing for comfort. Just roots, stone, and mud that shift beneath your boots. Hiking here isn’t easy. But it’s honest.

This place rebuilt itself with time and breath. And if you pay attention, the trails will show you exactly what that kind of recovery looks like.

You're not walking a trail. You're walking through recovery.

- Jess Taylor We Were Meant to be Wolves, an Adirondack eco-thriller coming this summer.

That tree growing out of stone? The fox shivering through a snowstorm?

They don’t need our sympathy.

They’re not suffering. They’re adapting. Thriving, even.

Life out here isn’t a guarantee. It’s a negotiation. A battle. A gift you earn with every breath.

No one out here expects to be saved.

But if you’re lucky, you learn to respect the will it takes to keep going.

The struggle. The silence. The glory of staying alive.
That’s not weakness. That’s the wild.

Jess Taylor, We Were Meant to Be Wolves, an eco-thriller coming this summer.

For over a century, wolves were absent from the Adirondacks, driven out by bullets and bounties, forgotten by the forests, and replaced by silence. But in We Weren’t Meant to Be Wolves, they return quietly, defiantly, as if they never left.

This isn’t just a story about conservation. It’s about the places inside us that go wild when we’re pushed too far. About the myths we inherit and the ones we become.

Jess Taylor thought she was going back into the field to observe a breeding pair of wolves. What she didn’t expect was a reckoning, with nature, memory, and the consequences of control disguised as care.

This book is for readers who love psychological thrillers laced with folklore, dark humor, and the ache of becoming something new. The wolves are back. But they’re not the only ones.

Follow me read all about it July 25th!

What purpose do coyotes serve?
-They keep rodent populations down.
-They clean up roadkill before it gets stinky.
-They eat invasive free-roaming cats. Sorry, not sorry. Native birds approve.
-Thrives everywhere from deep wilderness to downtown.
-Shape-shifts in myth, teaches life lessons, and occasionally saves the day (sometimes on purpose)
-Laughs at your HOA rules .

Verdict: Nature’s problem-solver… and occasional troublemaker.

Happy Tuesday! Stay adaptable!

And read! Love wolves? Love nature? Love Magical realism?

Jess Taylor is dead.

Her body lies rotting in the woods, forgotten by the world. But something older than myth, and more primal than man, has claimed her. And it’s not done yet.

Ten years after surviving a wolf encounter that killed her sister, wildlife biologist Jess returns to the Adirondacks to study a breeding pair that shouldn’t exist. Their presence disrupts everything ecologically, politically, and spiritually.

But when science collides with legend and conservation becomes control, Jess crosses a line she can’t uncross.
And she pays for it with her body and soul.

Now resurrected from the dead, disoriented, and no longer entirely human, Jess faces the betrayals, bribes, and the man who couldn’t save her—or stop her.

Set in the remote Adirondacks, where wolves have returned after a century-long absence, The Wolfer's Daughter is a chilling, darkly humorous story rooted in real-world conservation, identity, and the blurry lines between what we love and what we fear in ourselves.
The Wolfer's Daughter: A Story of Resurrection and Reckoning in the Adirondacks