Donavan's Story: A Tale of Wolves and Roses

By Evette DuLuv

My story is about an Irish family and some of the joys and woes they have. Also, I fit in some macabre elements, a little wolf stuff, not really bloody, maybe a little silly though. Nowadays, with all the vampire and werewolf stories, they get too bloody and violent. Mine is more on the side of keeping the people more sheeplike, not wolfish, as opposed to the violence and bloodshed in movies and stories today.

Donavan, the main character, goes into a dream world one night in a cabin in the Canadian Rockies and sees his late mother and father and others, and a story unwinds in his mind, and tells him who his father really is. The saga goes from Kansas to Canada, Ireland, then Scotch Highlands. Like I said, it might be a little silly, and a little mixed up, but all in all, I think it’s good reading, especially the intimate parts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664182943

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 by Evette DuLuv.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations,

and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or

are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/13/2021

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

788611

A TALE OF WOLVES AND

ROSES (DONAVAN’S STORY)

Sometimes women like wolves. Men can act like wolves and sometimes are wolves. Remember when Lamb Pie met the Big Bad Wolf? He had quite a feast, but after he devoured her, he was hooked for life. She was the sweetest meal he had ever had, and she kept him coming back for more. She had him right where she wanted him. Night after night, he kept coming back for more, more sweet, tender love. The nights were filled with steamy hot temptation, mixed with sweet murmurs and sighs.

That was when the transformation began. Right before her eyes, he started changing. At first, the changes were subtle, a little snarl here and there every now and then, urinating on a tree or fire hydrant. Oh well, she thought. Guys urinate outside sometimes.

But one night, on a full moon, they were sleeping, entwined in each other’s arms, when all of a sudden, he woke up and started licking her. Her pheromones were highly contagious, the scent was strong. He started licking every part of her body sensuously and then ravenously. She awoke with a startled moan. She smiled and gasped, writhing at his intoxicating touch, whispering and then calling his name. He abruptly grabbed her and turned her over, forcing her buttocks against his hardcore body. He slowly maneuvered his way in.

There was a look of sweet ecstasy on her face as her lovely eyes were closed, her mouth open partially, and her disheveled hair falling over her shoulders. Her breathing was deep, and her head arched up at each of his thrusts, and a low-pitched moan came forth out of her, and her tongue flicked in and out as if she was tasting his thrusts. He knew he couldn’t get enough of her, so he gave one long thrust and stayed inside her, feeling her contracting walls. His body was alive. She was the reason, and he was the reason for her release.

She uttered his name and collapsed on the bed. He was breathing so hard, he thought his heart would stop. The climax took everything he had, and he rolled beside her, heaving and soaked with sweat, shyly smiling and face aglow with love and tenderness.

She nuzzled against his neck, murmuring praise and endearments for the gift he had just given her. She held his face between her hands and kissed his lips softly and whispered, I thank you for my beautiful man every day and night and all the joy he brings me as a lover and a man. Then she lay back on the pillow and drifted off into sleep again.

He lay beside her, looking at her creamy skin and silky hair swirling around her face. He had never known he could feel the way about a woman the way he did her. He had been with beautiful women before, but it really wasn’t her beauty that kept him with her. It was her inner being that did. Oh, she was comely and had a glow all her own, but it was her beautiful mind and sensuousness that he loved.

He got out of bed and walked outside to see everything bathed in moonlight. This was her too—the soft moonlight, the smell of the earth, honeysuckle, lilacs, and the rain. He could hear the brook babbling over the rocks and the crickets and frogs, with the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. On nights like this, they would walk together, while the fireflies flit around them and disappeared in the woods. He felt an inner peace when he was with her, a warm inner peace.

But lately, he had been having strange feelings, carnal feelings like that of an animal—bloodlust. He had been feeling like killing something or someone. Oh god, he thought, don’t let it be her. I’d never forgive myself if it was her whom I killed.

One day he noticed she had blood on her dress in the back, and he started snarling and getting down on all fours and started sniffing her rear end. She gave a startled What? and then she saw him on all fours and started laughing, but it wasn’t funny to him. He started howling and trying to shove her down on the floor. She was screaming by that time. She ran out of the room and locked the door behind her.

Has he gone mad? Did one of the raccoons bite him and give him rabies? I hope he’s just playing. After all, it was her side of the family that had mental illness and religious lunatics.

She cracked the door open a little and looked out. He was nowhere to be seen, so she inched out little by little. The back door was open, and the moon was already coming up over the horizon. And there he stood in all his glory, his hard masculine body, without a stitch of clothing on.

He didn’t see her at first, but as his senses were heightened, he could smell her. He turned around, smiling ear to ear. Good evening, my love. How about a roll in the grass with me?

She looked at him cautiously. Are you all right?

Yes. Why do you say that?

Because you were acting like a maniac today in the kitchen.

Didn’t you like that?

No. You scared me to death.

I love to smell you. It turns me on. I love the way you smell.

She looked puzzled for a minute and then came running into his arms as if nothing had happened at all. She jumped up on him and wrapped her legs around him, and they fell in the soft grass.

He started groping at her dress, and then he deliberately ripped it down the middle. She started gasping and running her hands up and down his back and buttocks and through his thick dark hair. They practically rolled over and over, almost into the stream. Now she was in control of him.

He watched in awe as she gave herself to him. This wonderful nymph––where had she been all his life? Then her back arched and stiffened. A lovely pink blush came over her face and breasts.

As she leaned down and gave him a long deep kiss, he looked up at the sky and saw a falling star. So he whispered, Look, my love, a falling star. What shall I wish for?

She smiled and said, For us to be together for eternity.

He laughed and said, I knew you would say that.

But I hope you don’t act like you acted today, or I might have to run away.

That won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I promise. Please promise never to leave me no matter what happens.

She looked skeptical. What if you try to kill me? Just like a big bad wolf?

He laughed and shook the question off. I promise you, I’ll never act like that again. He gave her a kiss and held her until she went to sleep in his arms.

He eventually drifted off, and then he heard noises coming from somewhere back in the hills. He couldn’t tell from which direction, but it seemed to get closer. Then he realized what it was––a low-pitched howl. A coyote fox? No, they have high-pitched howls. A dog? No, it sounded too ominous for a dog. A wolf? How could a wolf be here in these woods? This is the Midwest.

He sat up abruptly from the grass. The sound was coming from the top of the hill now, closing in, getting closer. He woke Evianna up so he could carry her into the house.

She said, What’s that noise? The neighbor’s dog or a coyote?

He said, I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Get in bed, and I’ll be in later, and I’ll lock the door behind me.

Okay, my love. She kissed him, and he left.

He didn’t know what to think. The howling excited him, like a call from the wilderness––the call of the wild, just like the book by Jack London. He felt like Buck the dog and a wolf all at once.

He looked into the dense forest and saw nothing, but slowly, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the dark and came closer, and finally appeared out in the moonlight a huge auburn or dark-red wolf with the most beautiful big green eyes he’d ever seen. It looked at him and wagged its tail and started whining and whimpering like it wanted to tell him something.

He got down on all fours, and suddenly, he turned into a big brown wolf, and he ran toward the wolf, which apparently was a female. They played in the moonlight for a while until he turned back into a man, and she went running back into the woods.

He felt strange sensations, and he woke up on all fours on the ground in the moonlight. Was he dreaming, or had he just been a wolf playing in the moonlight with another wolf? Yes, he had, definitely.

What kind of strange spell did he have on himself, and who put it on him? Not Evianna. She wasn’t a witch. Enchanting as she was, she wasn’t capable of turning him into a wolf and pretending not to know anything about it.

What am I going to do? he wondered out loud. "Tell Evianna I’m turning into a wolf or a werewolf? The Wolf Man? Lon Chaney? How zany is that? I must try to control it somehow. That’s if I can control it somehow. Maybe there is a cure or some medicine I can take to help ward off these episodes."

As he walked back to the house and unlocked the door, he noticed a magazine on the kitchen table, Outdoor Life. One article read, Canis Lupus: The Plague from the Past, Now an Endangered Species. He started reading the article on wolves. It included history and fables from medieval times. There was a man who had studied wolves up in the Canadian Rockies and was well known for his stories and tales about wolves. It was said he had even encountered werewolves.

Nutty as it sounded, he was willing to ask for anyone’s help. So he had to do a lot of research on him. The man, Sir William, had written Tales of the Old Country: Wolf-Shapeshifter and dozens of others. He finally contacted him via email. Sir William answered his email about a month later and agreed to meet him in British Columbia, Vancouver. Donavan booked a nonstop flight to Vancouver.

He was surprised by how beautiful the weather was there when his flight finally landed.

Sir William met him at the luggage drop-off. Hello, he said.

Donavan smiled and held out his hand. Glad to finally arrive right on time, he replied, his dark eyes sparkling and warm.

Sir William was a man in his early sixties and very distinguished, with gray-streaked black locks and clear blue eyes that winked merrily at Donavan, and then he said, So very pleased to be of assistance to you, young man. Well, let’s be on our way out of here. We have a lot of work to do.

Sir William led Donavan to his jeep and put his bags in, and off they went. Donavan gazed out the window at Vancouver, how breathtaking the landscape was, the ocean, the pines, etc. As they traveled along the highway, the scenery started to change. It became more rugged as they climbed higher. They finally turned onto a dirt road that meandered up and around, and they came to a halt above a pristine valley with an awe-inspiring lake surrounded by snow-capped peaks and majestic pines. There, not but a few hundred feet away, was an old rustic cabin that resembled something out of a miner forty-niner’s dream. Donavan picked his bags up out of the jeep and followed Sir William to the cabin.

Well, here it is. This is where I write all my stories and do my research. Sir William smiled and chuckled. And I suppose you want me to write a story about your encounters.

I’ve not really had an encounter with a werewolf, but I have with a wolf.

Oh, really? Sir William remarked. And where was that?

Back in good ol’ Kansas, he stated matter-of-factly.

Sir William guffawed loudly, and his eyes twinkled, merrier than ever. How about that, chap! A wolf in Kansas?

Yes, and she was auburn in color and had big green eyes.

Oh, and the wolf was a she––and a redhead to boot! He laughed so hard, he started crying. Excuse me, young man, but I don’t have time for practical jokes.

Donavan frowned and said seriously, It’s not a joke at all, and I don’t think it’s funny either. I and my lover––or, should I say, fiancée––were rolling around in the grass one night when I first heard the howling back in the hills, I carried Evianna back to the house. By the way, Evianna has red hair and green eyes too.

Sir William said, I should’ve known that. You have a thing for redheads, huh?

Yes, I do, and I love Evianna, and I want her to be protected from anything that might hurt her.

Do you mean the wolf, the female wolf with auburn hair and green eyes? He laughed.

No, I mean me. Lately, I’ve been feeling strange, and I have urinated on trees, like marking my territory. Also, Professor––I mean, Sir William, I turned into a wolf one night, and I played with a she-wolf all night.

What? You expect me to believe that? Sir William said. All of a sudden, one night you just turned into a wolf and went out and started playing with a she-wolf?

Yes, and she might be pregnant. I’m sure we had . . . well, uh, we copulated. And what’s more, Evianna might be pregnant, and she is more vulnerable right now and needs extra protection and my love.

I’ve never heard such an outrageous story, but you know what? I’m willing to help you––if you help me. I think you’re serious, or you would not have flown all the way up to Canada for my help, young man.

How do you think that she-wolf just appeared one day out of the forest and in Kansas?

She must have migrated down from Wyoming or Colorado for some odd reason, perhaps looking for a mate to sire her pups, or she could have escaped from someone that had her as an exotic pet. Whatever the reason, she picked you to father her pups. But how she knew you were a wolf, is what I want to know, replied Sir William. She had to have stalked you somehow.

Maybe she watched me through the woods when I was outside working, Donavan said.

Yes, that’s more than likely what happened. She is more than likely a werewolf too, and you’ve only saw her as a wolf, Sir William replied matter-of-factly.

Oh, that explains everything. She’s probably been stalking me as a woman, Donavan replied.

Yes, and you’ve probably seen her a few times and not known she was looking at you. I don’t know the answer to everything right now, but we’ll start working on it tomorrow, Sir William replied. Let’s have some dinner and a good night’s sleep, and we’ll crack open my books on wolves from humans to werewolves.

All right, El Capitan. Sounds like a good idea, Donavan answered. After dinner they went to their separate rooms. Sir William went to the back of the cabin, opened the door, and said, Good night, young man.

Donavan replied, And a good night to you too, sir. See you bright and early in the morning.

Donavan sprinted up a slightly long staircase and opened the first door