I may be a werewolf and Scottish, but despite what you may have read about both, we are not cads!

Later on Lady Maccon was to describe that particular day as the worst of her life. She had neither the soul nor the romanticism to consider childbirth magical or emotionally transporting. So far as she could gather it mostly involved pain indignity and mess. There was nothing engaging or appealing about the process. And as she told her husband firmly she intended never to go through it again.

Felicity grimaced in agreement. “No, you are perfectly correct. I did not realize how vital the approbation of one’s butler is in allowing for nocturnal autonomy.

She moved with such purpose it was as though she walked with exclamation marks.

Highland werewolves had a reputation for doing atrocious and highly unwarranted *things*, like wearing smoking jackets to the dinner table.

I am entirely capable." "Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?

Oh, dear me, no. Then I should be known as that vampire with all the cats.