Outskirts Press, INC.

Heritage has its price.

For centuries, werewolves have been condemned to live in the shadows. Now, in a Victorian world of steam machines and gas lights, sheep farmer Nick Buchanan unwittingly finds himself married to a werewolf. His new wife Agatha only wanted to escape a life of torment, not realizing that a greater destiny was her birthright. They will have to overcome one werewolf’s legacy and the madness of another to keep Australia from being thrown to the wolves. In sickness and in health, for better or worse, they are on the road to redemption for all werewolves. “Birthright is an epic tribute to werewolves everywhere. It will change your mind about them being mere monsters.” —Verdine Daniels, editor kulturmag.co.za

“I’m Nick Buchanan,” he said, hoping to put her at ease. He wasn’t one for small talk so he wasn’t certain if he would say the wrong thing. “Are you one of Eliza’s….other guests this evening?” She cocked her head. Her gold eyes raked him from head to toe. The tension in her body eased somewhat. The wolf relaxed. This man was nonthreatening, unlike the man she was running from. All the males she seemed to meet were aggressive, but this man was docile. There was a sense of calm about him that attracted her and allowed to her relax slightly. “Yes. I’m Agatha Whistleton. You aren’t….you’re….” she struggled with her choice of words. “I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you here tonight.” Taking that as an invitation, Nick stepped closer. She was standing by the stained glass windows at the front of the room. Moonlight poured though the panes, spilling a complex rainbow of colours on her white skin. She looked like some ethereal creature from a fairy tale. He was no knight in shining armor, but he felt confident approaching her. “You’re American,” he said, feeling ridiculous for stating the obvious. “Have you had a chance to see much of Sydney?” “A little. Do you live in the city?” she asked hesitantly. “No,” he answered, watching the colours shift and collide across her face. “I have my own sheep station north of here. I know this is forward, but I’d like a wife who can work alongside me, who’ll give me a few sons to keep the place running after I’m gone. I’m not expecting more than that. I’m a hard working man. Anyone who knows me can tell you I’m a decent mate. I don’t smoke or gamble or drink.” He quickly set down his glass. He felt a fool for rambling, but nerves had gotten the better of him and he couldn’t seem to switch it off. The office door swung open and Eliza appeared. Her expression was one of horror when she saw Nick talking to Agatha. Her worst fear was realised. She had hoped to keep Nick safely sequestered away from the shadow fae and werewolf females, but here was Agatha in uncomfortably close proximity to her prized client. The last thing she needed was an incident between a werewolf and a well respected, unsuspecting human. “Mr. Buchanan, if you please. Agatha, you are needed elsewhere.” Agatha fled the room, shooting Nick a promising glance over her shoulder. “I like her,” Nick said, ignoring Eliza’s look of disapproval. “I’m afraid she isn’t one of the ladies I’ve chosen for you to meet,” replied Eliza. Her tone was firm. “They’re waiting in the music room.” Nick held his ground. He picked up his glass and took a gulp of whisky to bolster his courage. “I’ll take Miss Whistleton.”