This urban fantasy novel is the story of weres who are not shapeshifters but rather have an animal spirit that can come out and take physical form, leaving its host in a trance-like state and therefore vulnerable.
Jobless and evicted from her apartment, Charlotte Ramirez has nowhere to go. Being were compounds her problem. The animal spirit inside her is a jaguar, and it's restless. When she passes a man on the street and recognizes, via her unique ability to "see" the animal within other weres, that he carries within him the spirit of a wolf, she turns to follow him only to see him brutally stabbed. Because she witnessed the stabbing she is contacted by other weres and taken to the house of a clan of weres. Has she found the home she is looking for or only more trouble? To win a place in the clan she is told that she must accomplish daunting tasks: learn whether the stabbing victim is alive or dead, discover who stabbed him and why, and locate the stabber so that he or she can be brought to justice. Charlotte wants very much to become part of the were family, so she embarks on her assigned duties without careful planning and with no idea of the difficulties and dangers she will face. As she blunders through her initial attempts, she makes enemies of some of the were household, discovers and unwittingly endangers a young were who is not part of the household, and faces enemies who are determined to destroy the weres. Charlotte quickly learns what a high price she’ll have to pay for the privilege of making the Were House her home.
Excerpt
My mind roiled with dark thoughts as I walked through a seedy part of town on my way to Lawton’s one and only homeless shelter. I didn’t want to go, but I was desperate. I’d just been evicted from my apartment, I’d lost my job, I hadn’t paid the rent for several months, I had no money for gas or the repairs my car needed. At least the late October weather was cool and pleasant for walking. But the shelter’s not a good place for a woman. Lawton seems to get most of the transients that Tampa, St. Petersburg, and Sarasota directly to our north force out of their areas.
My mind was so busy picturing all the things that could happen in that shelter, even to a girl with the animal spirit of a jaguar for protection, that I bumped right into a guy coming from the opposite direction.
“Hey, watch where you’re going.” I lashed out just before it dawned on me that I was the one at fault. Oops! “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”
Two things kept me from finishing the apology. The first was that he’d walked right on, as oblivious of me as I’d been of him. The second was that my were sense tingled. Hey, wake up, it told me, That guy was were! I had an animal spirit living in me that could come out and take physical form. Now I’d spotted this other were, whose animal spirit, I saw via a special sense, was a wolf.
I spun around and tore after him. He'd got pretty far ahead of me, but that was okay. I just wanted to keep close enough to follow him. I hoped he might be heading to a place where weres were welcome, a place that had to be better than the homeless shelter.
With no family or friends to turn to, I longed for a real home. My last boyfriend bailed after I lost my job, and my mother was off to God knows where with her new husband. But this guy, this were might be able to help me.
I reached an intersection right as the light turned red and cars flowed past, separating me from my quarry, who’d already crossed the street. I wasn't too worried, though. I'd get him back in sight soon enough. The sidewalks and streets through here weren't all that busy, not like in town center.
When the light turned, I crossed at a brisk pace but didn't run. No point in alarming anybody. Sure enough, I'd only gone half a block when I spotted the fellow just reaching the next intersection, and this time he had the red light. I didn't want to get so close that he'd sense he was being followed. I slowed down but kept my eyes on him.
A guy in a floppy hat came toward the were and bumped into him. Poor fellow must think nobody's paying attention today. As far as I could tell that guy didn't stop to apologize, just darted into a discount shoe store there on the corner. The light changed, and the people waiting for it headed across the street.
But not the one I was following. He staggered and sprawled facedown on the sidewalk. I ran to him. A knife stuck out of his back just beneath his left shoulder blade, and blood soaked his shirt around it.
People gathered around. "Call nine-one-one," somebody shouted.
"Don't touch him," another voice warned. "Let the paramedics handle it."
And a question chilled me. "You do it, lady?"
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