Hunter's Moon (Tales of the Sazi) [Mass Market Paperback]

"I read the book in one sitting. I look forward to the next book in the series, because it has to be the beginning of a series. A world this enjoyable deserves more than one visit. This book has some new twists in the werewolf's tail that were very cool."--Laurell K. Hamilton on "Hunter's Moon"

If werewolf stories are your favorite, then you have to pick this one up. You won't be disappointed.

Like watching a good movie, all I needed was popcorn. I would queue outside a bookstore to get a copy.

An amazing, cutting edge paranormal adventure. Gritty, fast-paced and sexy. It's earned a spot on my keeper shelf.

HUNTERS MOON introduces us to Tony, our narrator and a hit man for the Mafia. A few months ago, one of Tony's jobs went very wrong-the mark spotted him, attacked him, and ripped out his throat. He should have died, but instead he woke up furry, and now, with every full moon, he changes into a wolf. Months later Tony has a bad feeling that the wolf-s nses are encroaching on his human life, and this is confirmed when he meets a new freelance client and feels an immediate attraction to her, something that never happened when he was fully human. But there's a bigger problem aside from the professional implications, and the fact that his wolf half wants him to mate with her: she wants to hire him to kill her. He manages to convince her to wait a year, to deal with her problems head on, but tries-and fails-to avoid becoming entangled with her. As he's drawn further into her life and her problems, the wolf inside of him clamors to be let out-and he realizes he's not the only one in the Midwest whose life is ruled by the moon...

Tony Giodone is an attack victim, turned Sazi against his will. Since recovering from his injuries, he's been forced to try to understand his new nature and to fight to fit it into his life. People often ask authors: where do you come up with these ideas? Usually we start with a question: What if? What would happen if werewolves existed? Would modern humans be tolerant of them? Would shapeshifters have to hide what they are in order to survive? We think so. Rules would have to be strict. The secret would have to be clouded in smoke, hidden in shadow and wrapped in an enigma. Punishment would have to be harsh, because discovery would bring the very real risk of slaughter. In HUNTER'S MOON, we've tried to create characters that the readers can empathize and identify with, that blend in with current reality.

C.T. Adams and Cathy Clamp have been writing together for a number of years. Their first published book was Road to Riches: The Great Railroad Race to Aspen, an historical account of the race to bring the first railroad to Aspen, Colorado. Hunter's Moon is their first romance. The sequel, Moon's Web, is slated for publication in 2005.

I’m known as Bob to my clientele. That's not my real name. I'm the kind of person you would expect to find at Nick's. Call me a businessman who works the wrong side of the street. All sorts of people have need of my services: high class, low class, quiet suburban mothers, good church-going men. At one time or another all of them give into their primal instincts and call me. I meet them here at Nick’s to talk details.

I'm not a hooker or a drug dealer. Too many risks, not enough money. There are no drug deals at Nick's. You'd get bounced on your ear if you even thought about it.

I'm an assassin. A killer-for-hire. If you have the money, I'll do the job. I like puppies, kids and Christmas, but I don't care about your story—or your problems. I'm the person you call when you want the job done right the first time with no sullying of your name. Yes, I am that good. I apprenticed in the Family.

Oh, there’s one other thing I should mention. I'm also a werewolf.

Yeah, I know. Big joke. Ha. Ha. I never believed in creatures of the night like vampires, werewolves, or mummies. They're the stuff of schlock movies and Stephen King novels. I'm not.

The door to the bar opened and the figure silhouetted in the doorway almost made me laugh out loud. I stifled the laugh with a short snort of air. Then I let my face go blank again. Talk about stereotyping. The woman wore an expensive black pantsuit, odd enough in a low-class part of town. But the part I liked was that she wore a dark wig-and-scarf get-up like something you'd see in the 60's, and huge round black sunglasses. Oh yeah, she'll blend right in with the steel workers and biker babes. Sheesh.

My client had arrived—and she was early. No big deal. We’d only set the appointment a few hours ago. I hadn’t even unpacked from my last job. The quicker we finished, the better I’d like it.

The woman in the doorway was forced to take off the sunglasses to look around the darkened bar. I got a look at her face. Nothing special. Deep green eyes looked out from a relatively plain face. She stood about five foot five. I felt like I recognized her, but she was like me—a blender. She could probably get dolled up and look pretty but she would never be stunning. She was a woman that a man would fall in love with for her mind or personality. Or maybe her body, which was on the good side of average. She was probably a size ten. Maybe a twelve. She carried it well and comfortably. The suit spoke of money. Good. She could probably afford me. The rest of the get-up spoke of nerves.

She scanned the bar, looking for someone she had never met. You can't mistake the look. The person just stands there, hoping that someone will wave or pick them out. I let her feel uncomfortable for a moment, just long enough to size her up. She wasn't a plant or a cop. Nobody can fake that level of nervousness. She wasn't wringing her hands, but close.

I was sitting in the back booth—my usual table. I looked around the bar while I counted slowly to ten. It's a comfortable, familiar place. A Family hang-out. See, it hasn't been too long since the Mob ran this town. Nick's was one of the neutral taverns. Not upper-class. Nick didn't run no hoitsy-toitsy gentlemen's club. His words, not mine. Nick's son Jocko runs the place now. Yeah, really. Nick actually named him Jocko. Poor guy.