Sangay Glass's Blog - Posts Tagged "wilderness"

image: Trust. It’s the glue holding human relationships together, but in Candice’s world, it’s a loaded weapon.

Trust can be a lifeline—or a noose. It can offer safety, or it can lure you into a trap with no way out.

At the heart of this story lies an age-old question: How much do we really want to know about the people we let in?

Enter the Bluebeard twist.

For those unfamiliar, Bluebeard is an old fairy tale about a man who offers his new bride, all his riches without restraint and the keys to his castle—but warns her never to open one specific door. Of course, she does. Inside, she finds the bodies of his murdered wives. Her curiosity nearly costs her life. The story is a cautionary tale about disobedience, about trust, about how sometimes the truth is far worse than the lie we tell ourselves.

Now, think about Candice.

She isn’t a naive fairy tale wife. She knows monsters exist—she’s faced them her entire life. But she holds the key this time. And she has to decide: does she open the door? Does she ask the hard questions? Does she push to truly know the man walking beside her in the dark?

Randal. The unreliable ally. The one with secrets of his own offers her his loyalty and protection. She needs him, but she doesn’t fully trust him. And how could she? She’s learned that trust is dangerous. Fatal, even. But without it, she’s alone.

That’s the tension that carries through her version of Bluebeard. She is both the woman with the key and the one behind the locked door. She knows what happens to girls who ask the wrong questions—but she also knows what happens to girls who don’t.

So, the real question is: If you were Candice, would you turn the key?

And if you did… would you be prepared to face what’s inside?Trust. It’s the glue holding human relationships together, but in Candice’s world, it’s a loaded weapon.

The wilderness in Ledge Pond isn’t just a setting—it’s a living, breathing force, shaping every decision, every challenge, and every moment of survival.

Deep in the Adirondacks, nature isn’t just a backdrop to Candice’s deadly game—it’s an entity with its own rules, its own moods, and its own brutal sense of justice. The wind howls warnings. The ice grips and bites. The dense forest conceals both threats and salvation. And the water? It remembers everything.

For Candice, the wilderness is both an ally and an adversary. It’s a weapon she can wield—hiding her, slowing her enemies, whispering truths only she understands. But it’s also a relentless force,
indifferent to human struggles, ready to swallow her whole if she miscalculates even once.

She isn’t just fighting a man—she’s fighting the land itself. And in a place where survival depends on instinct, deception, and sheer willpower, only those who respect the wilderness stand a chance of making it out alive.

Out here, the rules shift like the wind. And Candice knows—sometimes, nature is the deadliest predator of all.

Candice and Randal are the kind of morally gray duo you probably shouldn’t root for—but let’s be honest, you will.

Whether they’re handling “inconveniences” or making sure the right people disappear, their brand of loyalty is as twisted as it is unbreakable.

Think you could survive a relationship like that?

Enter The Ledge Pond Giveaway for a chance to 1 of 100 ebooks, and find out just how deep their bond—and their secrets—go.

Enter Here… before Candice decides you know too much.

Ledge Pond

Jessie devoted her life to studying wolves, advocating for their protection, and understanding their place in the wild.

But somewhere along the way, she made a choice—one that blurred the lines between conservation and control, which she justified as a necessary evil.

Now she’s dead by the hands of her research partner, Noah—murdered over something she can’t even remember.

But death is not the end. It’s just the beginning.

As Jessie haunts Noah while he makes his way back to civilization, her presence lingers like a shadow, her memories fragmented, her truth unraveling one agonizing step at a time.

What was once a fight for wildlife has become a battle for redemption, and as the wilderness closes in, she begins to change—mentally, spiritually… and perhaps even physically.

Is she merely a ghost clinging to the man who ended her life, or is she something more? Something primal, something ancient—something that was always waiting inside her, just beneath the surface?

We Were Meant to be Wolves - is a psychological thriller that explores morality, obsession, and the thin, fragile line between protector and predator. If you love eerie, atmospheric stories like The Snow Child, where reality bends under the weight of something greater, this is for you.

The wild doesn’t forgive. And neither does she.

Stay tuned. In the meantime, check out my wilderness psycho-thriller Ledge Pond

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.

by Wildlife Ecologist, Jess Taylor, FMC of We Were Meant to Be Wolves

Not all women want drama. The bruises masked as passion. Storms disguised as love.

Some of us just want a safe place to pitch a tent before the weather turns.

If you've read some of Sangay's wilderness thrillers and have a sudden desire to go camping in rough country while the sky’s turning, here’s what I’ve learned (usually the hard way):

Avoid low ground. It might feel sheltered, but water will pool there when the rain hits. Flash floods don’t care about your sleeping bag.

Don’t camp under dead limbs. “Widowmakers,” we call them. They look solid—until the wind picks up. Look up before you lie down.

Watch the tree line. That open view might be pretty, but it also means exposure. Wind rips harder across clearings. Find a break in the trees.

Stake low, tight, and angled. Your tent should hug the earth, not fight the storm. Stakes at 45 degrees, rain fly taut, guy lines anchored.

Trust your gut. If the spot feels wrong, even if it checks the boxes—move. Animals trust instinct. We should, too.

In the end I didn’t need much. Just a dry place. Warmth.
No more lies. No more danger. Just enough trust to close my eyes.

And I definitely didn’t want a man to hurt me.

I wanted someone who checks for widowmakers before me sits down beside me, like Tucker.

Wait. No. I remember now. Don't trust Tucker.

Coming the Summer

We Were Meant to Be Wolves is an eco-thriller with a supernatural twist, 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.

Need a wilderness hit. Read the TWs and check out a different kind of Adirondack thriller:Ledge Pond

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.