Werewolves Work Among Us

 I have often described Stuart West's writing as my guilty pleasure because whether it's horror-with-humour, crime or the manic antics of Zach and Zora, he never ceases to entertain me and put a smile on my face.

Now he's back with a fabulous take on the werewolf trope. In fact, these are werewolves as you have never seen them before - and that's before we get into goat yoga. I'll leave it to Stuart to explain:

Okay, that guy. See him? The guy three cubicles over? The one who kinda reeks, is pretty hairy, snaps at others like they’ve snatched away a choice soup bone?

Chances are he’s a werewolf.

I’m not kidding.

Werewolves are around us. It’s no lie, I have proof. Three out of four dentists suggest the same thing and they would know, having to dig fingers into lycanthropes’ canine teeth on a regular basis. Is it any wonder dentists have the highest suicide rate amongst professionals? It’s a colossally, huge burden they shoulder.

Dr. Larry Veranicus, PhD standard bearer of Lycanthropy for the European Establishment of Werewolfography (aka, “EEW”), explains it best. “People largely assume werewolves are the thing of dreams, big-eyed monsters with claws out to here,” says Veranicus, eyes bugged and clawing the air. “Little do they realize, werewolves aren’t a myth. Rather the most inconspicuous person you know could possibly suffer from lycanthropy.” Dr. Veranicus sucks on a pipe, emitting a wheezing, lazy bagpipe sound. “Once, when I worked in fruit basket sales, I noted a gentleman, one work station over, had extraordinarily hairy knuckles."

I asked him, I said, "Chuck, do you suffer from hypertrichosis?"

Strangely, Chuck ignored me and proceeded to seal the deal on a particularly voluminous fruit basket sale.

But the proof is in the pudding, as they say. Undoubtedly, Chuck was a werewolf. Call them what you will, no sugar-coating and no prejudice:  wolf-man (or woman, if you will, lycanthropy is not a sexist disease), loup-garou, lycanthrope, shape shifter, or a talcum-toed Talbot. Soon, I discovered just how prevalent werewolves are in our so-called civilized society. Lately, it’s become much more disturbing as werewolves have now fully indoctrinated into society, building their own power clique, steadily becoming the rulers of the world.

I questioned Dr. Veranicus on the proof to his theory. Pointing to a pie chart, he explained, “This largest slice?” He tapped a blood-red quarter of the pie diagram. “This represents werewolves living amongst us.”

“What does the green smudge in the corner represent?” I asked.

“Yesterday’s lunch. As you can see, I’ve fully documented the rise of…”

While, Dr. Veranicus opened my eyes to the world around me, the thorough journalist that I am, I sought further corroboration.

My research assistant, Ms. Google, uncovered some interesting facts.

Fact! Gaius Petronius Arbiter, a Roman courtier during the reign of Nero, is one of the earliest perpetuators of the truth regarding lycanthropy. Hey, the (widely accepted) author of The Satyricon wouldn’t lie, now would he?

Fact! The belief in werewolves perpetuated alongside the notorious witch hunts throughout Europe in the 18^th Century. And since when have religious zealots been wrong?

Fact! The term lycanthropy, referring both to the ability to transform oneself into a wolf and to the act of so doing, comes from ancient Greece, widely renowned for being a hotbed of smarty-pants fellows.

Fact! Today’s corporate cut-throat cult of personality thrives on werewolves and vice-versa. It’s not a well-known fact (at least until now!) that werewolves constitute the largest percentage of the hard-charging, social-stabbing corporate climbers we’re all painfully familiar with. It’s a jungle of concrete and glass tailor-made for the beasts in humanity.

Werewolves work among us! And I’m here to tell you the truth in my shocking true undercover expose, Corporate Wolf.

Here, let my publisher take care of the blurbiness:

 If you can't run with the big dogs…

It was supposed to be a corporate retreat and a series of morale-boosting exercises. It was a weekend Shawn Biltmore nearly didn't survive.

There was something else playing in the woods that night, something other than a bunch of corporate drones with paintball guns.

And it had chosen Shawn as its new chew toy.

…rip 'em to shreds.

The local authorities chalked it up to a bear attack.

So did the doctors.

Shawn knew the truth, however, as much as he wanted to deny it.

But when one of his coworkers is viciously killed, Shawn must face the truth…

He's a killer who needs to be put down.

Or is he?

Okay, the book’s all gussied up as horror fiction, but it’s not. Not really. This is a work of non-fiction. So, lock your doors. Don’t ask for a raise. Go get a manual labor job. I understand there aren’t a whole lot of werewolves in the service industry.

You’ve been warned.

Thanks!

Stuart R. West is a lifelong resident of Kansas, which he considers both a curse and a blessing. It's a curse because...well, it's Kansas. But it's great because...well, it's Kansas. Lots of cool, strange and creepy things happen in the Midwest, and Stuart takes advantage of them in his books. Call it "Kansas Noir." Stuart writes thrillers, horror and mysteries usually tinged with humor, both for adult and young adult audiences.

Stuart spent 25 years in the corporate sector where he first encountered werewolves until he dropped out to pursue writing. Alas, the industry being what it is, Stuart’s now forced to reenter the lycanthropic corporate sector.

If you're still reading this, you may as well head on over to Stuart's blog at: 

 Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley

You can track down Stuart's Corporate Wolf here:

Amazon 

Barnes and Noble 

Kobo 

 

Creepy Kansas - with Stuart R. West

Stuart R. West is one of my favourite horror writers. He manages to blend the sinister and macabre with dark and often wry humour. He says he owes his inspiration to his home state of Kansas. Here he tells us why:

 Kansas is creepy. Shocker. All of my life I’ve lived there and for most of my life I’ve hated it. But I finally learned to use that hate in my writing and embrace the peculiar nature of Kansas, perfect fodder for a horror writer.

You see, Kansas isn’t just a “red state.” No, it’s a bloody red state of mind. Everyone carries guns. Recently, they made it legal for students to carry weapons on college campuses. It’s like we’ve reverted to the ol’ wild West. Kansas legislature recently tried to pass a law giving restaurant owners the right to refuse service to gay people on “religious” grounds (mercifully, it didn’t pass). Hey, where else in the world will you still find active chapters of the Ku Klux Klan? And the mob! Only in Kansas is it still active, old school style. Let’s not forget about the meth-head pockets, a thriving (non) life-style for many. And, of course, Satanism is big. Black masses, devil worship, goat sexing, death metal, you name it, we got it in spades in Kansas!

So…yep, perfect for a horror writer. In my first short story collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley, I’m ripping the band-aid off of Kansas’ bleeding underbelly. Many of these horror stories were written in a (red) state of shock and anger after the relatively recent presidential election. America has become a nation divided and nowhere is it better encapsulated than in our lil’ state of Kansas, God bless the USA, lil’ ol’ Tornado Alley.

 But wait! Don’t go away because I brought up that naughty word, “politics!”

Tornado Alley, I’d like to think, is right next door to the late, great Ray Bradbury’s October Country. It’s a place where it always seems to be dusk. Where a hideous group of monsters live beneath the streets of Kansas City. Tornado Alley confronts racism on a personal level when a privileged white male wakes up in the body of a Midwestern man. 

Do you see all of those giant webs strung throughout the trees in suburban Kansas? You might be better off avoiding them, thar be monsters in those parts. Around the corner in Tornado Alley, there’s a secret night school catering to vampires, zombies and other marginalized supernatural creatures. Hey, don’t forget about the family forced into the country through downsizing, the only farmhouse available haunted by…something. Bigfoot’s storming through Tornado Alley, ripping off the arms of vile human polluters, enough to dry up Iron Eyes Cody’s tears. There are other horrors awaiting you, both all to Kansan real and unreal. Or are they? I mean, Kansas is creepy. Who’s to say what’s real and what’s not?

So, join me on a little trip through Tornado Alley as I carve up that oddly Kansan niche, where dark humor coexists with horror, where suspense and all-too-recognizably human characters collide, and where things just seem a little (okay, a lot) off. Keep the lights on, though. You don’t wanna know what exists in the dark of night.

 Stuart R. West is a lifelong resident of Kansas, which he considers both a curse and a blessing. It's a curse because...well, it's Kansas. But it's great because...well, it's Kansas. Lots of cool, strange and creepy things happen in the Midwest, and Stuart takes advantage of them in his work. Call it "Kansas Noir." Stuart writes thrillers tinged with horror and horror tinged with thrillers, both for adult and young adult audiences. He writes at the crossroads of horror and sneaky humor.  

 Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley is Stuart’s first short story collection and third book with Grinning Skull Press, and Stuart feels funny talking about himself this way. Stuart spent twenty-five years in the corporate sector and now writes full time. He's married to a professor of pharmacy (who greatly appreciates the fact he cooks dinner for her every night) and has a twenty-six-year-old daughter who's still deciding what to do with her life. But that's okay. It took him twenty-five years to figure that out.

Stuart's blog can be found at http://stuartrwest.blogspot.com/. 

Drop in on him at Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/stuartrwestwriter