WERECON 2012: HOWLERS CHALLENGE WOOFERS.

Exclusive WEREWORLD CELEBRITY WATCH report by Angela Sapworthy

(Denver) Excitement mounts on the eve of this landmark conference, the first of its kind in werewolf history. A star-studded list of attendees from the far reaches of the globe will gather at the elegant Stillman pack lodge in Estes Park near Denver this weekend to debate the conference theme, OUR FUTURE IN A CHANGING ENVIRONMENT.

As readers of WCW know, opinion is sharply divided on the topic. Weres have rebounded after being hunted nearly to extinction, but their presence as a significant economic force in all the major cities in the world remains unknown to the human community.

Extremely eligible bachelor and Scotsman Duncan MacDowell, younger brother of MacDowell pack leader Colin MacDowell, wants that to change. In May, he founded Werewolves Optimizing Our Future (WOOF), and his wildly popular blog Wolf Whistles champions his belief that wolves should stop hiding their shape-shifting abilities, openly partner with humans in business, and even consider inter-species mating. Obviously human females would rally to that cause if every male Were looked like Duncan MacDowell in a kilt!

But not all Weres are ready to climb on board Duncan’s tartan-clad bandwagon. This summer the Were blogosphere heated up as Denver-based Kate Stillman, granddaughter of pack leader Elizabeth Stillman, launched Honoring Our Werewolf Legacy (HOWL). Her well-known dating website Furevermore.com celebrates Were-Were mating as the only way to go. Kate, who claims she’s never dated a human, advocates the beauty of tradition and the safety of keeping our secret secure.

But is the tide turning in Duncan’s direction? This reporter recently spoke to the Wallace brothers of New York, both of whom shocked the Were community last year by taking human mates. From all indications, their human brides are blissfully happy. And why not if they share an address with sexy wolves like Aidan and Roarke Wallace?

Despite the apparent success of what’s being called The Wallace Experiment, Kate Stillman predicts that such unions spell disaster. Although Emma and Abby Wallace have proven trustworthy, Kate insists the Wallace brothers’ behavior may still adversely impact the Were community. Predictably, Duncan MacDowell calls the Wallaces heroes for bucking tradition.

For months Kate and Duncan have traded barbed comments on their blogs and via our online instant messaging system, affectionately named Sniffer. Adding fuel to the controversy, they’ve each published bestselling ebooks, available only through Were distribution channels, of course, defending their respective positions.

Duncan’s followers (Woofers) are poised to confront Kate’s supporters (Howlers) at the conference and will no doubt fill the room during the final session when Duncan and Kate face off in what promises to be a heated debate and great fun for this reporter! Duncan’s last Sniff before he left Scotland was a succinct call to arms—Woofers, it’s on #primedforaction.

And so am I, my friends! For on-the-spot conference updates and celebrity sightings, be sure to follow me on Sniffer @newshound or #werecon2012. I’ll be your eyes, ears, and nose!

Standing at the Denver airport’s baggage claim with her cell phone to her ear on Friday afternoon, Kate Stillman listened to her assistant Heidi Jenson rant about an apparent server hack that had temporarily taken down their Were-Were dating site Furevermore.com.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if those Woofers are behind it,” Heidi said. “When you see Duncan MacDowell, you tell him that hacking into our dating site is the most despicable, underhanded—”

“I doubt my grandmother would want me to start our first conversation that way.” Kate checked the arrivals board and noted that Duncan’s plane was on the ground. “Her exact words were—Warm hospitality will disarm him, my dear. You’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“Forget the honey, Kate. Just swat the bastard. No telling how many potential clients we lost, or how many romances will be derailed this weekend because of his damned Woofers.”

“We don’t know it was them.”

“We might not have proof, and I’m not saying Duncan himself did it, but his followers are insane.”

“I know. Listen, Heidi, I’d better go. He could show up any minute.”

“Okay. Text me if he says anything suspicious.”

“I will. ’Bye.” Kate disconnected the call. Heidi loved conspiracies, but Kate hoped her assistant was wrong about this one. Trading insults was all part of the game, but interfering with a commercial venture was actionable.

Surely the Woofers wouldn’t be so stupid as to hack into her dating site on the eve of the conference. She would mention it to Duncan and see how he reacted, because he should know that it happened, but she couldn’t openly accuse him without evidence.

Not only would that be unfair of her, but Grandma Elizabeth, the Stillman pack alpha and a force to be reckoned with, would be furious. She’d been totally in love with the idea of Kate standing with a sign and a smile when Duncan arrived to collect his luggage. No accompanying staff, no fancy limo. Simple western hospitality.

The limo wouldn’t have worked, anyway, now that the first snow had hit Denver. The storm had begun around noon, dashing hopes that Denver could get through the month of October without the white stuff. Judging from what had already fallen this afternoon, Kate would need the four-wheel-drive capacity of her SUV to navigate the long winding road back to the resort.

The dicey road conditions didn’t bother her. She’d been driving on ice and snow ever since getting her license fifteen years ago. But meeting Duncan MacDowell face-to-face worried her more than she cared to admit to anyone, not even Heidi, and least of all her grandmother.

Offering friendly hospitality to the Were she’d called a pig-headed radical who had his head up his ass seemed hypocritical. But treating him like a bitter enemy seemed rude. Online interactions were so much easier. Knowing that Duncan would appear any minute had her pacing the baggage claim area.

She’d responded on Sniffer to his arrogant last statement—Woofers, it’s on #primedforaction with her own challenge—Bring it, Woofers. Howlers R ready 4 U #firmlyconvinced. Other Howlers had added equally feisty comments, which had sparked pushback from the Woofers, although nothing had come from Duncan yet.

Thinking of that, Kate checked her Sniffer feed. Sure enough, there was another Sniff from @DuncanMacDowell. Slippery landing in Denver. Can’t scare a Scotsman/Woofer #Braveheart.

Kate rolled her eyes. He was so blasted macho it was sickening. Tucking the printed sign under one arm, she quickly typed a response. Just don’t get off the plane naked with your face painted blue, Braveheart.

The response came almost immediately—How would you know if I did?

She answered with a few rapid taps. Turns out I’m your ride.

I’m honored.

So he wanted to be sarcastic, did he? She started to type The honor is all mine and realized that would be ungracious. Her grandmother would disapprove. As she started a new message, she breathed in the scent of masculine Were.

Glancing up, she had no doubt she was eyeballing Duncan MacDowell, in the flesh. Judging from his purposeful stride and intent focus, he’d figured out who she was, too. His wool topcoat hung open to reveal a cream-colored cable-knit sweater and what looked like wool slacks. His leather dress shoes weren’t suited for walking in the snow, but she could work it so he wouldn’t have to.

She folded the unnecessary sign with his name on it into fourths and crammed it into her purse.

“Hello, Kate.”

Hearing his rich baritone for the first time felt surreal after months of online communication. And the brogue. Damn, it was sexy as hell.

“Hello, Duncan.” She kept her tone neutral but pasted on the smile her grandmother had asked of her. “Welcome to Colorado.”

“Thank you.” His sculpted lips curved in an ironic answering smile.

As she looked into his eyes, she was momentarily distracted by how beautiful they were—soft gray and elegantly fringed with dark lashes. She quickly reminded herself of his arrogant attitude and reckless stance regarding Were security. He was ready to risk everything for some crazy Utopian dream. And his followers might have hacked into her dating site.

He regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze that probably had more to do with jet lag than any attempt to be seductive. Yet he really was unbelievably gorgeous. She wasn’t immune to male beauty, and a quiver of sexual awareness shot through her system.

He was taller than she’d expected. The top of her head, minus her fake rabbit-fur hat, reached only to his shoulder. And speaking of shoulders, he had broad, powerful ones, the kind that inspired confidence and marked him as a leader.

His hair was longish and his jaw was darkened with new beard growth. He could have shaved on the plane if he’d been so inclined. Obviously he hadn’t troubled himself. Cocky Were.

His rumpled appearance only added to his sex appeal, though, as if he were silently demonstrating how he’d look after a long night of fabulous lovemaking. She’d read all the nauseating blog comments from his bevy of female admirers, so she’d expected him to be reasonably good-looking. She hadn’t been prepared for sensational.

Not that it mattered whether he was an Adonis. His physical attributes didn’t change the threat that he posed to the Were way of life. If anything, they made him a more dangerous opponent.

“I can’t say I expected you to meet my plane, lass,” he said.

Now would be the time for her to turn on the hospitality spigot as her grandmother had suggested, but sugary words stuck in her throat. “Maybe I wanted to get a preview of what I will be dealing with this weekend.”

He surveyed her with those bedroom eyes. “You do realize you’re giving me a preview, as well.”

“That depends on how much I allow you to see.” She hadn’t meant that to be a sexual comment, but it sure sounded that way once she’d said it.

His smile widened. “I’m very good at uncovering whatever interests me.”

There was that sexual quiver again. She ignored it. “Considering that we’re on opposite sides of this debate, I can’t imagine I’d be of any interest to you.”

“On the contrary. I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying—Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

“I’ve heard it.” But never spoken with a Scottish brogue.

“Is that why you came to pick me up?”

“No.” She finally settled on the truth. “I’m here because my grandmother asked me to come. She thought the gesture would disarm you.”

“Oh, it has.” His gray eyes took on a wicked gleam. “It most certainly has.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed. “I’m not kidding. As tired as I am, I’m easily disarmed, which might have been your grandmother’s plan.”

“Maybe.” Kate decided the time for chit-chat was over. “We need to get your bags and leave before the snow gets any worse.”

“Aye.” Turning, he surveyed the luggage circling the carousel. He walked over, retrieved his suitcase with athletic grace, and returned to her. “Ready.”

He must have been tired, because she managed to talk him into waiting inside the building while she brought the Jeep around. Once they were on their way, he peered past the flapping windshield wipers at the snow that seemed flung by a giant hand. “I’m not sure it’s safe to drive in this. Perhaps we should stop somewhere and wait it out.”

“We’ll be fine.” She wasn’t about to admit that the snowstorm had become nasty enough to intimidate even her. “I’m used to snowy conditions.”

“If you say so.” Leaning his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes.

“I wanted to alert you that someone hacked into the Furevermore website today, and I—” A soft snore brought her up short. She glanced over at him and sure enough, he was fast asleep.

Impressed with his ability to surrender control, Kate drove slowly and kept to the plowed sections of the highway. Traffic thinned once they were outside the city limits, and she began to wonder if she’d made the right call. Hers were the only headlights taking the exit road to the resort. And she had several miles yet to go.

Turning back wasn’t an option, because the roads were getting worse and she’d have a problem retracing her path, too. As long as she moved slowly and didn’t hit a patch of ice, they’d get there. She’d always been lucky driving on snowy roads.

But not this time. When the skid started, she did everything she’d been taught so they wouldn’t flip, but nothing could have prevented them from plowing into a snow bank, nose first.

The impact woke Duncan, who sat up, startled. “What happened?”

She sighed. “We’re stuck.”

“Can we get out?”

The wind whistled as snow swirled around the Jeep and blocked the view from all angles. Kate surveyed the situation. It didn’t look good. “I don’t know. Maybe not.”

Duncan shook his head to clear the fog of sleep from his brain. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” He reached for the door handle.

“Hang on. Let me try to back it up and see what happens. Maybe we’ll scoot right out.” She put the SUV in reverse and tromped on the gas. The motor whined and the wheels spun like crazy, but they didn’t move an inch.

She let up on the gas and stared out at the driving snow. “Or not.”

“I’ll see what’s going on out there.” Once again Duncan grasped the door handle.

“You can stand out in the blizzard and assess the situation if that makes you happy, but I’ve lived in this area all my life and I can guarantee that we won’t be getting out of here without a tow truck.”

He glanced over at Kate. She looked so blasted sweet with her long blonde hair and big blue eyes, but he knew better after a summer of trading barbed comments on the internet. In the interest of getting to know his enemy, he’d decided to read her book, Sex and the Single Shifter: A Guide to Ultimate Satisfaction, on his e-reader during the long plane ride.

Kate was about as sweet as a dram of DeWars. And like that most excellent whiskey, she had the potential to addle his brain, and that would be unfortunate. If he’d been lucky, her likeness on the internet would have turned out to be Photoshopped and her real self would be homely as a hedgerow. Instead she was bonnier than the heather in full bloom.

A blonde goddess who’d written a book about sexual satisfaction would tempt any male almost beyond endurance, but he couldn’t afford to be tempted. Any weakness in that area could compromise his goals. His followers expected him to stay strong, and he would. He would.

Still, he was fighting the effects of jet lag, and he had trouble not staring at her. She looked adorable in her red leather jacket and furry cap. “You know the lay of the land better than I do,” he said. “If we need a tow, then perhaps you should call for one.”

“Exactly.” Pulling off her black leather gloves, she reached for the phone in a holder on the dash, tapped on it, and held it to her ear. After listening for several moments, she frowned. “Automatic message. They’re flooded with requests. Let me call another company.”

Duncan watched her growing frustration as she tried various avenues to arrange for a tow. When she swore softly under her breath, he couldn’t help smiling. She must hate getting herself stuck with him as her passenger.

At last she put the phone in its holder with a sigh of resignation. “I’ve left messages, but this sudden snowstorm has created emergencies all over the area.” She pulled on her gloves and peered out the window. “It’s getting worse out there. I can’t risk having another vehicle from the resort get stuck while trying to rescue us, so I’m not calling them.”

“How far to the lodge?”

“Way too far, if you’re suggesting we walk it. Being so remote means we’re blessed with privacy, but bad weather makes the resort almost inaccessible.”

“What if we shifted into Were form and went cross-country?” He didn’t think she’d go for that because they’d have to take off their clothes first. Now there was a concept that would test his determination to resist his cravings. But if the alternative was sitting in the vehicle all night, they might have to consider it.

“If I thought we could make it up there easily as wolves, then I’d agree to shift, but we’d have a nasty slog that might not turn out well. Still, we can’t sit here indefinitely while we wait for somebody to call us back. Folks freeze to death doing that.”

“Wouldn’t that make a juicy story for Angela Sapworthy?”

Kate let out a martyred sigh. “She’s at the resort, you know.”

“I assumed she would be. She promised to be the eyes, ears, and nose for her faithful readers.”

“She’s been good for attendance, so I shouldn’t complain, but if I have to read one more reference to the virility of the Wallace brothers, or—”

“The virility of Duncan MacDowell?” he added helpfully.

“Yes, she does go on about you in a rather nauseating fashion.”

“I quite like it.”

“I’m not surprised.”

This was more fun than typing comments on the internet because he could see her reaction. She developed a cute little jut to her chin when she was irritated. “So, my devastating charm aside, how are we going to extricate ourselves from this cock-up you’ve got us into?”

“What do you mean, the cock-up I got us into? It’s very ungentlemanly of you to imply it was my fault.”

“If not you, then who? It wasn’t me, I can tell you that much.”

“It wasn’t me, either! It was…well, my grandmother suggested this, but I can’t blame her for the weather. So I guess it’s Mother Nature’s fault.”

“And…so? What are we going to do?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Right before we spun out, we passed a turnoff to a cabin. I think we should take our phones and go there. If they’re home, they’ll give us shelter. If they’re not, we’ll break in and wait for a towing company to call back.”

“Break in? I don’t know your local laws, but won’t that get us arrested?”

“Not in an emergency like this. Besides, I’ve met the owners. They’re Edith and Bob Stewart, and Bob helped me change a tire when I had a flat on this road last summer.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll be happy if we break into his house.”

“Seriously, he’ll understand. Mountain people help each other out like that. This is a summer home, so they’re probably not here, but if we can find a number for them, we’ll call and tell them what we’ve done and explain that we’ll repair any damage involved in breaking in.”

He peered at her in the growing darkness. “Have you ever broken into a residence before?”

“No, but I’ve seen it done.”

“You were an accomplice to a break-in?”

She blew out a breath. “No. I’ve seen it done in the movies. It looked easy.”

“Kate, it was a movie. Of course it looked easy! They used fake glass the actors could easily break or left a door unlocked so the actors could supposedly use a credit card. I’m sure these people have battened down the hatches on their cabin before leaving so no one can break in, at least not without great effort.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Unfortunately not.” Out of necessity, he started thinking like a burglar. “Do you have a torch?”

“Of course not! Why would I carry a torch around? This is the twenty-first century. We use flashlights.”

“Sorry. I meant flashlight. We call them torches in Scotland.”

“Oh. I vaguely remember that, now that you mention it.”

He smiled to himself. “From the movies?”

“Smartass.” She opened a compartment between the two front bucket seats. “Yes, I have a flashlight.” She pulled it out and switched it on.

“Hey, not in the eyes, please.” He put a hand on the flashlight and directed it downward so it wasn’t blinding him.

“Whoops. My bad.” She stuck the light under her chin. “What does this make you think of?”

“Blair Witch Project. Which, by the way, isn’t a comforting thought as we venture into the cold, snowy woods.” But he laughed in spite of himself. He shouldn’t allow himself to be so entertained by her.

“It’s only a movie, Duncan.” She mimicked his former patronizing tone. “They made all that up on purpose to scare you. It wasn’t real.”

“Touché.”

“Thanks.” She marked an imaginary line in the air with one gloved finger. “Score one for Stillman.”

He let that pass. “So we have a flashlight, which we can use to see what the bloody hell we’re doing. Do you have a tire iron?”

“Wow, you’re gearing up to break some serious glass, aren’t you?”

“If we’re going to hike over there, we might as well go prepared to get in.”

She studied him for a moment. “I’m thinking you might have done this before, Duncan MacDowell.”

“If you must know, my brother and I locked ourselves out of the castle one night. It was late, and we couldn’t rouse any of the servants, so in order to get in, we—”

“You locked yourselves out of the castle and couldn’t rouse the servants? You say that so casually, like everyone lives that way.”

“I don’t think much about it, really. Is it so different from you living at the resort? You must have staff working there.”

“We do, but we don’t call them servants. We call them employees and most of them live elsewhere. I think it is different. You’re like a prince or something.”

“Nope. No title. My brother Colin has the title—Laird of Glenbarra. I’m just the lowly second son who’s a bit of a renegade.”

“And who knows how to break into a castle. Why were you giving me an argument before? This cabin will be easy pickings for you.”

“It’s one thing to break into your own place and quite another to break into somebody else’s. So do you have a tire iron or not?”

“I’ll take it from the back once we get out.”

“Then I guess it’s time to become criminals.” He pulled on his black leather gloves, which were oddly appropriate for breaking and entering. Then he wound his wool scarf around his neck and turned up his collar. “I’ll meet you round back and we’ll go from there.” He opened the door and snow hit him in the face. “Bullocks! It’s cold out there!”

“Wait a minute.” She grabbed his arm. “Do you have a hat in your suitcase?”

“No, but I’ll be fine. I have gloves and a scarf. Let’s go.”

“What about boots?”

He closed the door again. “You mean rubbers?”

“Over here we call them condoms, but that wasn’t my question.” She grinned at him, an imp in a furry hat.

He had the most powerful urge to grab her and kiss that saucy smile right off her face. Bad impulse. Instead he lifted his gaze to the ceiling and sighed dramatically. “I have no boots, as you call them.” Then he turned to her. “And I saw no need to pack condoms, either.”

“And that’s another point!” She wagged her finger at him. “If you have Were-Were sex, you don’t need those things, either to prevent pregnancy or disease. It’s an elegant system. But when you consort with humans, you have to put on a—”

“Spare me the sex education lecture, Kate.” Damn it, she almost seemed to be testing him to see if he’d snap. He was too close for comfort. “And for the record, condoms can be sexy, too.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but she came right back at him. “I don’t believe you. I can’t imagine how putting a latex gizmo on your penis can be anything but uncomfortable and ridiculous. As for the female, how horrifying to see something covered in latex coming at you like some alien creature! Ick!”

Time to end this discussion before he did something he would be sorry for, something that might betray his cause. “As they say in the USA, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Ready to go burgle this cabin, lass?” Opening the passenger door, he stepped into a snowdrift at least two-feet deep and cursed.

At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about the erection he’d been trying to control. Five seconds standing in a snowdrift had taken care of that quite nicely.