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Moon
Musings
“O,
swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly
changes in her circle orb...”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and
Juliet
“Cold-hearted orb
that rules the night
Removes the colors from our sight
Red is grey and yellow white
But we decide which is right
And which is an illusion?”
Removes the colors from our sight
Red is grey and yellow white
But we decide which is right
And which is an illusion?”
Moody Blues, Nights in White Satin/Lament
The
Moon is one of the most highly anthropomorphized heavenly bodies, in poetry,
music, and film. The moon is both villain and hero, blamed for the madness of
men on the one hand and praised for her encouragement of lovers on the other.
The word lunatic derives the old French lunatique,
lunage, or directly from Late Latin lunaticus
“moon-struck”, from the Latin luna “moon.”
And of course we all know there is a man in the moon, who lives off of the
cheese the moon is made from!
In
Greek mythology, Selene is the goddess of the moon. Her siblings are the
sun-god Helios and Eos, goddess of the dawn. Her name most likely derives from
selas, the Greek work for light. Her brother Helios is often identified with
Apollo, and is referred to as Phoebus, while Selene, identified with Artemis,
is also known as Phoebe.
The
ancient Greeks used gods and goddesses to help explain the natural world around
them, such as the rising and setting of the sun and moon. The moon must have
been particularly mystifying with her seemingly constant changing—waxing and
waning as each month progressed, completely disappearing during the time of the
new moon, and then reappearing in all her glory during the full moon.
Even
today, there are people who believe that the moon is an influence on their
lives, besides the pull she exerts on the tides. One example is the monthly
cycle of women, menses sharing a common
root with the Greek words for moon and month. Some people believe that the moon
affects their moods.
And
then there are other creatures that are more directly affected: werewolves.
What
is it about the full moon that causes this phenomemon?
An
Australian study among emergency patients with violent, acute disturbances
comparable to werewolves found that a quarter of those admitted to a small
hospital north of Sydney occurred on the night of the full moon, double the
number for other lunar phases. Some people were reported to rub themselves with
a special ointment, to induce the transformation to becoming a werewolf, an
ointment often containing belladonna and nightshade—well known for their
hallucinogenic qualities. In modern times, these ointments have been replaced
by alcohol and drugs.
Werewolves
are not necessarily just the stuff of legends. There have been reported
werewolf sightings in Wisconsin that go back to 1936. Cases of people who
believe themselves to be werewolves have been reported in various scientific
journals, including The Canadian
Psychiatric Association Journal. In 16th century Germany, a
farmer claiming to be a werewolf was dealt a very unpleasant death by
frightened townspeople. As for literature, werewolf stories go back many years,
including the epic Gilgamesh, written 4,000 years ago.
For
a werewolf, the moon is a cruel mistress indeed, one he or she cannot evade.
She must be obeyed on that night, for nothing short of death can stop the
change. But what if there were a drug that could control the change, control
the beast within? Would that make being a werewolf more palatable? More
acceptable to society at large?
When
Will I See You Again takes place in a time when the presence of werewolves
and vampires among the general populace is known and accepted, largely because
of drugs that control any baser animal instincts. SL57 is the werewolf wonder
drug, short for SomnioLupus, otherwise known as Wolf Trank. In the small
seaside town of Crescent Bay, people come to the famous nightclub Charisma,
mostly because of the charismatic man who is one of the best-known supes in the
area: Raoul Marchand. Raoul is a regular party animal, one who lives but to
have a good time, and who cares for no one and nothing. But he hasn’t always
been this way...
Blurb:
Raoul Marchand is the crown prince of Charisma, the
infamous night club in Crescent Bay, renowned for its supernatural clientele.
He has the pick of any and all men, but he cares for none. He uses them and
throws them away again, and has done so for some twenty years, in the aftermath
of a tragedy that robbed him of what he loved most in the world.
Alexx
Jameson is an idealistic young would-be reporter with the Crescent Bay
Chronicle. Presented with an opportunity to write a story on the Marchands, he
eagerly grasps the chance to be a real reporter. His friend, Chronicle
receptionist Miller Fenwick, suggests they go to Charisma to do a little
research. Alexx isn’t sure that’s such a great idea. After all, he’s still
under age, being only twenty. No problem, Miller can fix that! Added bonus,
there’s a full moon tonight.
When
Alexx first encounters Raoul, it isn’t exactly in the way he dreamed of, and
he’s sure he made a terrible first impression. But Fate throws them together under
unforeseen circumstances, and the attraction between them can’t be denied. Can
Raoul let go of the past long enough to find his future with Alexx, or is he
doomed to repeat past mistakes?
Excerpt:
Alexx drew in his breath in dismay. This wasn’t going well.
Even so, he could not stop staring at Raoul. His eyes met the other man’s.
Raoul’s were very golden; he wasn’t aware such colors even existed in the
spectrum of the human eye. But then again, he didn’t have any friends that were
werewolves either. He wondered if this was a sign that perhaps this man was
about to change, right here and now?
The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.
Alexx’s vision telescoped until he wasn’t aware of anything
but this gorgeous man in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears and his mouth
felt suddenly dry. Having lost all sense of the others in the room, he was
surprised when he felt his chair yanked out from under him. Before he could
fall, a hand grabbed the scruff of his neck, propelling him to his feet. He glanced
at his companion; Miller was being subjected to the same surly treatment.
“You waste my time for this?” Raoul’s upper lip curled back
in a snarl. Alexx found himself wildly attracted to him. “I have somewhere I
need to be. Paolo, please show these gentlemen
out.” Sarcastic much? He turned
and reached for the door, but it opened before he touched it.
A shaggy blond with hazel eyes and a cheerful countenance
stuck his head inside. “Hey Paolo—” He interrupted himself at the sight of the
occupants of the room.
Alexx heard Miller’s sigh of relief, even as he too
recognized the newcomer. He’d seen him around the Chronicle often enough,
although he’d never really spoken to him. Foster Levine, son of the Chronicle’s
owner—heir apparent and future newspaper magnate.
Alexx’s relief quickly changed to anxiety. What if Foster
knew how old he really was? He couldn’t be sure one way or the other, but for
the sake of argument, he had to assume he did. Would he out him to Raoul
Marchand and his burly minion? Had they simply jumped from the frying pan to be
scorched by the fire?
Author Bio:
Julie
Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and
always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children,
and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her
younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a
world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing
in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men
finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer
in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and
two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day.
She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and
needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues
to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places
on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind.
Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Amber
Quill Press, Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and
eXtasy Books. She is also an editor at MuseitUp.
My links:
Twitter @Shelley_runyon
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