Title: The Werewolf on Lowre Few Lane
Author: Bryce Bentley-Tales
Genre: Young Adult, M/M Romance, Paranormal, Dark Fantasy
Release Date: October 29, 2018
Publisher: NineStar Press
Cover Design: Natasha Snow
Summary:A haunted house. A portal that lies inside. Four friends must enter both to save their world.
Thirteen-year-old Colton has a crush on the new foreign exchange student, Dylan, but soon discovers his new American friend is not your average kid – he’s a werewolf. Their friendship has no time to blossom when Colton and his two close friends accompany Dylan to a haunted house, where they must search inside for a portal that will take them to another world where Dylan’s aunt is captive.
A loud clanging echoed across the yard, and we both cowered behind the stone fence post. Adjacent to the old post, a crumbling stone wall shielded us from anyone standing by the house. When I poked my head around the ledge, nothing but the motionless tall weeds could be seen in the yard and the same gloomy look the house had had before. It was dead quiet. Jade put her hands on my shoulders, her mouth next to my ear. “S-see, I told you. You believe me now? It’s haunted.” I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. I brought my binoculars up, gripping them hard with both hands. “Probably just varmint inside,” I said.
“Aye. And maybe you and your butterfingers could be captain of the rugby team.”
“Har-har. You think the Kennedy twins really disappeared inside?”
“I told you. I saw them at the house when I was with Erin two nights ago. They said they were going inside.”
“Maybe they’re hanging out at the local pub downtown?”
“Colton, no one has seen those fellas since that night. They went inside and never came out, sure of it.”
I swiveled the binoculars around, peering at the large, arched front doorway, which had a wolf face door knocker. Jade whispered close to my ear, “You see anything?”
“Shhh, I can’t focus with your tongue in my ear.”
“My tongue isn’t in your ear,” Jade said, her voice irritated. After a few seconds, she pushed on my shoulder. “By the way, you find out the new foreign-exchange fella’s story? You didn’t take your eyes off him in class. I missed a lot while I was away.” She giggled. “You fancy him, don’t you?”
I cringed, lowered the binoculars, and spoke in a hushed voice over my shoulder. “Don’t say that out loud.”
“And who’s going to blimey hear us? Just us and the ghouls at 44 Lowre Few Lane.”
Lunchtime came, and I headed to the cafeteria. I scanned the room, searching for Dylan. My heart beat fast. I didn’t see him. Nor did I see anyone I wanted to sit with, or someone, for that matter, who would want me to sit next to them. Ms. Griffin was standing close to several teachers, and I picked up bits and pieces of the gossip. You could count on Ms. Griffin for gathering the latest scandal regarding students, teachers, and anything else, and sometimes she would let things slip to students. Especially if she liked them. She was talking about Brian and the fact that he and his brother had been at that house. I assumed she meant 44 Lower Few Lane. Boys’ laughter reached my ears and I turned. On the far side of the room sat a row of rugby players. My heart plummeted to depths of glumness. Dylan was sitting with them, his back to me. Several of the boys were laughing at whatever story Dylan was telling them. I got my lunch, my head hung down, and I clomped down the hall to go outside. A few boys were forming up teams for rugby and asking for players.A round-faced boy pointed toward me and asked, “What about him?”
I froze in place. A skinny, spindly-legged boy cawed in laughter and slapped the oval-face lad on the back. “Don’t be a muppet. He’s only good at running numbers in his head.”
The two boys faced away from me and continued their search for players.
Always singled out as the smart kid. The brainy one. Tears threatened to sell, but I kept control and headed to my favorite oak tree. I had no chance of winning over Dylan.
“Aye. And maybe you and your butterfingers could be captain of the rugby team.”
“Har-har. You think the Kennedy twins really disappeared inside?”
“I told you. I saw them at the house when I was with Erin two nights ago. They said they were going inside.”
“Maybe they’re hanging out at the local pub downtown?”
“Colton, no one has seen those fellas since that night. They went inside and never came out, sure of it.”
“Shhh, I can’t focus with your tongue in my ear.”
“My tongue isn’t in your ear,” Jade said, her voice irritated. After a few seconds, she pushed on my shoulder. “By the way, you find out the new foreign-exchange fella’s story? You didn’t take your eyes off him in class. I missed a lot while I was away.” She giggled. “You fancy him, don’t you?”
I cringed, lowered the binoculars, and spoke in a hushed voice over my shoulder. “Don’t say that out loud.”
“And who’s going to blimey hear us? Just us and the ghouls at 44 Lowre Few Lane.”
Lunchtime came, and I headed to the cafeteria. I scanned the room, searching for Dylan. My heart beat fast. I didn’t see him. Nor did I see anyone I wanted to sit with, or someone, for that matter, who would want me to sit next to them. Ms. Griffin was standing close to several teachers, and I picked up bits and pieces of the gossip. You could count on Ms. Griffin for gathering the latest scandal regarding students, teachers, and anything else, and sometimes she would let things slip to students. Especially if she liked them. She was talking about Brian and the fact that he and his brother had been at that house. I assumed she meant 44 Lower Few Lane. Boys’ laughter reached my ears and I turned. On the far side of the room sat a row of rugby players. My heart plummeted to depths of glumness. Dylan was sitting with them, his back to me. Several of the boys were laughing at whatever story Dylan was telling them. I got my lunch, my head hung down, and I clomped down the hall to go outside. A few boys were forming up teams for rugby and asking for players.A round-faced boy pointed toward me and asked, “What about him?”
I froze in place. A skinny, spindly-legged boy cawed in laughter and slapped the oval-face lad on the back. “Don’t be a muppet. He’s only good at running numbers in his head.”
The two boys faced away from me and continued their search for players.
Always singled out as the smart kid. The brainy one. Tears threatened to sell, but I kept control and headed to my favorite oak tree. I had no chance of winning over Dylan.
What is the biggest influence/interest that brought you to this genre?
I’ll speak on horror first, and then, LGBT.
From when I first have memories, I can remember I’ve always been drawn to scary stories. Halloween was, and still is, my favorite holiday of the year. I’m not sure what the magic is, that pulls me to this macabre or terror?
It’s not like I was ever kidnapped by creatures from the Lagoon. Nor was a babysat by Hannibal the Cannibal. I had a pretty fairly normal childhood.
I do recall in my early years my parents had an unfinished basement, complete with concrete walls as well as floors and creaky wooden stairs. I remember looking down those stairs into the darkness and once venturing down, then falling down those stairs, and it was a hard fall. I don’t think I was knocked unconscious; but I remember taking the tumble to the bottom step, and just laying there in the dark. And yes, I did cry. I made the fall twice. Maybe this had something do it?
I’m not sure. By the time I was a teenager I was reading every novel Stephen King had written. His writing style and ability to weave a tale made me feel like I was actually the character and I was mesmerized.
The only problem was that no matter what book I read, there was never any LGBT characters. For a boy who was attracted to other boys, I then never saw myself reflected in the characters I read about. Had I read about a gay boy fighting off vampires, then I might have thought have same-sex attractions was normal and okay.
When writing a book, what is your favorite part of the creative process (outline, plot, character names, editing, etc)?
The second and third edit is the most fun, which for me, is still the developmental process. I have the bear bones of a story and now I’m adding the flesh. In my story, The Werewolf on Lowre Few Lane, I wondered whether Dylan was equally googly eye for Colton like Colton was for Dylan, or was he just a carefree kid who enjoyed life moment to moment. How does one come out as werewolf? And what does it mean, if anything, if you’re gay and a werewolf? So many new paths can be created and laid down in those second and third edits.
When reading a book, what genre do you find most interesting/intriguing?
Interesting enough, I love reading historical fiction and I’m a big fan of Ken Follet’s, The Pillar’s of Earth. I do love a good mystery and tinge of thriller and scariness mixed in for good measure. Otherwise, Stephen King’s oldie’s will always be my favorite – The Stand, Christine, Carrie, Firestarter, Gunslinger series and the list goes on.
If you could co-author with any author, past or present, who would you choose?
Probably no surprise by now.
Stephen King.
I read IT when I was a teenager. Being 17 years old is close enough to 12 years old to remember what is like to feel like you’re were a kid. Stephen King has this way where he can splice the character’s inner thoughts into the action that is taking place in the scene, and you have no idea it’s happening. In IT I was each of those kids in that story. I can almost recall now how I felt my skin tingle when Beverly hears a voice coming up through the drain. Or feel the anger when the kids faced off the bullies. In so few novels do I become so lost, and completely forget the reality around me.
Have you always wanted to write or did it come to you "later in life"?
When you’re a kid who cannot think inside the box because that’s an alien thing do, but instead feels most comfortable thinking out of it, you find that yourself separated from the crowd. This was true for me, and add on the gay sexual orientation, I think it caused a loneliness that’s been there for decades but I never really knew or understood it until much later in adulthood. It is why when I read stories like Christine or Carrie by Stephen King, I felt connected to the character’s sense of outsiderness. In fact, though strange it may sound, I probably attached better to characters in stories with their pain and loneliness, than I did with my own peers.
Over time, I wanted to create something for others, and give them something to connect with. Time went on, and I found my mind wondering again and again, could I actually create a story? I knew I was no Stephen King, and I figured it’d take awhile to learn the craft, and boy, you’re not joking. I started doodling in a large notebook in my late 20s through my 30s about a Sci-Fi story, but I didn’t know how to put pen to paper. I left the sci-fi story alone.
In 2012 I started working on my non-fiction book, Queer Sense, and I also started writing fiction. It’d not be until 2016 until I would write something that would be accepted by a publisher. Not a money maker in the least, but I thought – “If I can get one book into a small publisher, then I can do another. And at some point – I can get one into a large publisher.”
I’m still on this road. I’ve not got into a big publisher, but I finally started putting pen to paper to that Sci-Fi story. It’s a YA LGBT Sci-Fi story, with a working title of Orion: The PreRobo Era Boy. I’m excited about it, but I have no idea if it’ll see the light of day or not. Time will tell.
I’ll speak on horror first, and then, LGBT.
From when I first have memories, I can remember I’ve always been drawn to scary stories. Halloween was, and still is, my favorite holiday of the year. I’m not sure what the magic is, that pulls me to this macabre or terror?
It’s not like I was ever kidnapped by creatures from the Lagoon. Nor was a babysat by Hannibal the Cannibal. I had a pretty fairly normal childhood.
I do recall in my early years my parents had an unfinished basement, complete with concrete walls as well as floors and creaky wooden stairs. I remember looking down those stairs into the darkness and once venturing down, then falling down those stairs, and it was a hard fall. I don’t think I was knocked unconscious; but I remember taking the tumble to the bottom step, and just laying there in the dark. And yes, I did cry. I made the fall twice. Maybe this had something do it?
I’m not sure. By the time I was a teenager I was reading every novel Stephen King had written. His writing style and ability to weave a tale made me feel like I was actually the character and I was mesmerized.
The only problem was that no matter what book I read, there was never any LGBT characters. For a boy who was attracted to other boys, I then never saw myself reflected in the characters I read about. Had I read about a gay boy fighting off vampires, then I might have thought have same-sex attractions was normal and okay.
When writing a book, what is your favorite part of the creative process (outline, plot, character names, editing, etc)?
The second and third edit is the most fun, which for me, is still the developmental process. I have the bear bones of a story and now I’m adding the flesh. In my story, The Werewolf on Lowre Few Lane, I wondered whether Dylan was equally googly eye for Colton like Colton was for Dylan, or was he just a carefree kid who enjoyed life moment to moment. How does one come out as werewolf? And what does it mean, if anything, if you’re gay and a werewolf? So many new paths can be created and laid down in those second and third edits.
When reading a book, what genre do you find most interesting/intriguing?
Interesting enough, I love reading historical fiction and I’m a big fan of Ken Follet’s, The Pillar’s of Earth. I do love a good mystery and tinge of thriller and scariness mixed in for good measure. Otherwise, Stephen King’s oldie’s will always be my favorite – The Stand, Christine, Carrie, Firestarter, Gunslinger series and the list goes on.
If you could co-author with any author, past or present, who would you choose?
Probably no surprise by now.
Stephen King.
I read IT when I was a teenager. Being 17 years old is close enough to 12 years old to remember what is like to feel like you’re were a kid. Stephen King has this way where he can splice the character’s inner thoughts into the action that is taking place in the scene, and you have no idea it’s happening. In IT I was each of those kids in that story. I can almost recall now how I felt my skin tingle when Beverly hears a voice coming up through the drain. Or feel the anger when the kids faced off the bullies. In so few novels do I become so lost, and completely forget the reality around me.
Have you always wanted to write or did it come to you "later in life"?
When you’re a kid who cannot think inside the box because that’s an alien thing do, but instead feels most comfortable thinking out of it, you find that yourself separated from the crowd. This was true for me, and add on the gay sexual orientation, I think it caused a loneliness that’s been there for decades but I never really knew or understood it until much later in adulthood. It is why when I read stories like Christine or Carrie by Stephen King, I felt connected to the character’s sense of outsiderness. In fact, though strange it may sound, I probably attached better to characters in stories with their pain and loneliness, than I did with my own peers.
Over time, I wanted to create something for others, and give them something to connect with. Time went on, and I found my mind wondering again and again, could I actually create a story? I knew I was no Stephen King, and I figured it’d take awhile to learn the craft, and boy, you’re not joking. I started doodling in a large notebook in my late 20s through my 30s about a Sci-Fi story, but I didn’t know how to put pen to paper. I left the sci-fi story alone.
In 2012 I started working on my non-fiction book, Queer Sense, and I also started writing fiction. It’d not be until 2016 until I would write something that would be accepted by a publisher. Not a money maker in the least, but I thought – “If I can get one book into a small publisher, then I can do another. And at some point – I can get one into a large publisher.”
I’m still on this road. I’ve not got into a big publisher, but I finally started putting pen to paper to that Sci-Fi story. It’s a YA LGBT Sci-Fi story, with a working title of Orion: The PreRobo Era Boy. I’m excited about it, but I have no idea if it’ll see the light of day or not. Time will tell.
Bryce was raised by his mother and father in the countryside near Wichita, Kansas and learned to become an avid reader from his mother and maternal grandfather who carries the last name of Bentley. Stephen King novels still stack his two shelves in his old bedroom at home. After graduating from his high school with a class size of 69, he completed college where he had never came out gay, then took a winding journey over his entire 20s. This took him to Indiana, then to the San Francisco Bay Area where he still did not come out but obtained a master’s degree. He traveled to Bangkok, Thailand during his late 20s to teach English for a year and he met his first boyfriend. Five years later, he completed his doctorate degree in psychology, which was inspired by a youth and young adulthood of feeling internally bewildered. Bryce started dabbling in writing in 2011 or in his mid-thirties. He self-published several works under his name over the last few years, but it was in 2016 he felt like he was finally getting the hang of this writing thing. The Werewolf on Lowre Few Lane is his first work under his pen name of Bryce Bentley-Tales. His next YA novel with a working title of Orion: The PreRobo Era Boy, is a work he is finishing up currently. Bryce currently lives in Dallas, Texas.
EMAIL: brycebentleytales@yahoo.com
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