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94 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2014
Wolves should not be in space, but here we were, a clan of wolves and merchants. Instead of the preserved forests of New Earth and Noah’s Ark, we were in ships of steel and armour, reading data scans and commanding officers on the bridge. Wolves within the uniform of merchants and mercenaries, human seeming, claws and teeth sheathed.
Our genes kept us apart from the homo sapiens race. Some merchant clans tried to spread the rumour that we were the product of genetic engineering, a pact made between the secretive flesh engineers and our clan progenitors, in exchange for sacred information we didn’t know and care about. Some rumours were more far-fetched, bordering on the mythical and mystical and the alien, alleging raptor-like shishini or grey-tinged jukka involvement.
I would say that the agony and pleasure would leave me panting, writhing, like sex and orgasm. But oh so subtly different. Turning was never sexual or sensual: it was ugly as heck. There were sub-groups in the clans who used turning as a fetish – but we didn’t normally talk about them.
“Of course, I do. How long have I known you for?”
“Long enough. And you are my cousin.”
April’s face looked sad then. “I feel that we are more than cousins.”
“I know,” I said and left it at all.

