Furry Book Month: Always Gray In Winter

To wrap up Furry Book Month, we have a fast moving thriller featuring a diverse cast of werecats by Mark Engels:

 

Buy Link

https://www.amazon.com/Always-Gray-Winter-Mark-Engels/dp/1945247193/

Author Web Site (interviews, artwork, social media links, email list opt-in)

https://www.mark-engels.com/

Author’s Summary

The modern day remnant of an ancient clan of werecats is torn apart by militaries on three continents vying to exploit their deadly talents. Born in an ethnic Chicago neighborhood following her family’s escape from Cold War-era Poland, were-lynx Pawly flees underground to protect her loved ones after genetically-enhanced soldiers led by rogue scientist and rival werecat Mawro overrun her Navy unit in the Gulf of Oman. Pawly’s family seeks her out in a desperate gambit to return their ancestral homeland and reconcile with their estranged kinsmen. But when her human lover arrives to thwart Mawro’s plan to weaponize their feral bloodlust, Pawly must face a daunting choice:  preserve her family secrets and risk her lover’s life or chance her true nature driving him away forever.

Excerpt

Four down. [Pawly] sniffed at the air, recognizing a familiar stink. Worry. One to go, I'll bet!

She hopped atop the third story railing with an indulgent chuckle and leapt across the alley. Body tight to the building beneath the shooter's position, her wannabe captor would have to lean over the edge to sight her in. That would take time, more than she planned to give him. This would end.. Now.

Pawly took hold of the railing and twirled her body upward to close the gap between them. The weathered metal creaked in response to her acrobatics before it failed spectacularly with a tinny ping. She cursed and catapulted herself away from the wall with her legs. Forty feet above ground and losing altitude fast. Along with her confidence.

"Everyone around you will die, Pawlina," boomed Blaznikov's mocking voice in her mind.. It had done so every day since her and Lenny's detachment was torn to shreds. "Just like when you--"

A sharp pain accompanied the explosion from her memory while the sniper's dart bored into the base of her neck. Pawly bit her lip to stifle a squeal and reached out toward a downspout an instant too late. She slammed headlong into the brick wall and tumbled like a rag doll to the concrete below. Cats fled in all directions from the stand of trash cans she upended, screeching in anger at having had their late-night snack so rudely interrupted.

With a long groan, she propped herself up to one knee. The damned streetlight at the end of the alley taunted her, spinning no matter how much she squinted.

No! Gotta keep moving! Mom, Tommy...Lenny...

Her arms hung from her torso as if made of lead. Gravity soon won out, and Pawly collapsed into a pile of refuse face first. She turned her head and smirked toward the hissing cat closest to her. "Thorry ta crath yer party, cuth," she said before passing out.