When I first met Acey, I hated him. There were two reasons I didn’t like him. First was that he refused to accept my obvious superiority. Second was that he was a stranger, moving into my house uninvited. And third was that he was a werewolf.
I realise I have given you no background and right now, this sounds like Twilight, but I promise you it is nothing of the sort. Sure, there is an inter-species war and I live in a town where it rains a lot, but that’s where the similarity ends.
Continue reading
A Writer's Life for Me 