tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50150148024022984712024-01-07T23:27:55.032+01:00Andronica's Wolfish ThoughtsClassy lesbian werewolf from the Eighteenth Century. I also play the harpsichord. Day job at MI6.Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-64333620319495695212014-03-14T11:27:00.000+01:002014-03-14T11:31:27.075+01:00Happy Telemann's Birthday! <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The story of Händel and Telemann</b></span> </span></span></div>
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<br></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">On this date in 1681,
Georg Philipp Telemann was born in Magdeburg.
Not only was Telemann the most famous composer in Germany during the
first half of the eighteenth century, but he was also a close friend of both Georg
Friedrich Händel and Johann Sebastian Bach. Since Händel was my own composition teacher
and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (Telemann’s godson) one of my musical
mentors, Telemann holds a special place for me in the composers’ pantheon. </span></span></div>
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<br></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I had the (at first,
dubious) pleasure of meeting Telemann personally in October 1752, when I arrived
in Hamburg from London at the age of seventeen, my first trip abroad. He was a wizened and gruff old man, who contradicted everything I said, at
least until he read the letter of introduction I had brought from Händel. After that, Telemann’s demeanour towards me changed
completely, and he even agreed to arrange my first public concert in Germany, risking trouble with the local religious authorities for
allowing a woman to appear on stage. </span></span></div>
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<br></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Besides helping me launch my career as a professional harpsichordist on the Continent, Telemann had also done something else, decades earlier, which ultimately proved even more important. Through his understanding and love for a friend who happened to be </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">‘</span></span>different</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">’</span></span>, he encouraged that man to accept his difference and not condemn himself for it. Of course, the friend in question was Händel, and the lesson he had learned from Telemann was in turn given to me at a very critical time in my life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is the story of the friendship between the two composers, as told to me by Händel at his house in Brook Street, London, on the 13th of December 1750. I had gone to see him in an emotionally distraught state, having once again killed a human after losing control of my lycanthropic nature. Naturally I didn</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">’t go into the details, but did imply that she had been my lover. He made certain </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">–</span></span> correct </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">–</span></span> assumptions about my sexual preference and decided to make a startling (and, in those days, dangerous) confession of his own.</span></span><br>
</div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2014/03/happy-telemanns-birthday.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-75538683152128217362014-02-26T23:22:00.002+01:002014-02-26T23:22:27.755+01:00"Der Werwolf" von Christian Morgenstern<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">For the lycanthropically inclined who love German but are paralysed by its grammar, here is a wonderful poem by Christian Morgenstern to help remember the four cases - nominative, genitive, dative and accusative.</span><br />
<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Der Werwolf</span></h2>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ein Werwolf eines Nachts entwich <br />von Weib und Kind, und sich begab <br />an eines Dorfschullehrers Grab <br />und bat ihn: Bitte, beuge mich! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Der Dorfschulmeister stieg hinauf <br />auf seines Blechschilds Messingknauf <br />und sprach zum Wolf, der seine Pfoten <br />geduldig kreuzte vor dem Toten: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Der Werwolf", - sprach der gute Mann, <br />"des Weswolfs"- Genitiv sodann, <br />"dem Wemwolf" - Dativ, wie man's nennt, <br />"den Wenwolf" - damit hat's ein End.' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Dem Werwolf schmeichelten die Fälle, <br />er rollte seine Augenbälle. <br />Indessen, bat er, füge doch <br />zur Einzahl auch die Mehrzahl noch! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Der Dorfschulmeister aber mußte <br />gestehn, daß er von ihr nichts wußte. <br />Zwar Wölfe gäb's in großer Schar, <br />doch "Wer" gäb's nur im Singular. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Der Wolf erhob sich tränenblind - <br />er hatte ja doch Weib und Kind!! <br />Doch da er kein Gelehrter eben, <br />so schied er dankend und ergeben.</span> <br />
<br />
Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-5189783145133582512014-02-14T09:41:00.000+01:002014-02-14T09:41:52.621+01:00Ask Andronica!<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Advice from a Glamour Werewolf on living the
lycanthropic lifestyle<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I’m happy to announce today’s launch of my new advice column on </span><a href="http://werewolf-news.com/"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Werewolf-News.com</span></span></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> F</span>or those not familiar with it, Werewolf News
is “the web’s premiere source of lycanthropy-related news, reviews and
editorial blather”, to quote its formidable but friendly webmaster, Andrew
Quinton, himself a human.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Indeed, for the werewolf community (and those humans who desperately
wish they were one of us), Mr Quinton’s website is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the</i> essential source of information, and his Twitter feed
(@werewolfnews) provides up-to-the-minute newsflashes on all matters
lycanthropic.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Thus I was delighted when Andrew Quinton recently asked me if I would be
interested in writing a regular column, where werewolves and humans alike can
seek guidance on dealing with the common problems of everyday lycanthropic
living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In the time-honoured tradition of ‘Dear Abby’, I give counsel to the
confused and distraught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether it’s
about relationships (safe sex with werewolves), etiquette (table manners when
eating humans), or even medical problems (premature transformation), many
centuries of experience have given me insights on nearly every topic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">No question is too tough, so ask away!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Submit your queries to <span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="http://werewolf-news.com/askandronica/"><span style="color: #0563c1;">http://Werewolf-News.com/askandronica/</span></a></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-72518152345024852882014-02-13T21:24:00.000+01:002014-02-13T21:24:06.523+01:00Happy Valentine's Day Massacre!<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">This is a very special day for me, as it marks the 265th
anniversary of the infamous St Valentine’s Day Massacre in London, which I
committed on this date in 1749.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In case
you’re not familiar with it, here’s the original newspaper clipping from the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">London Evening Post</i>: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 3pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">On the
night of Tuesday, the Fourteenth of February, there took place in a
Publick-House near-by to Ludgate a most frightful Murder, in which nine Persons
were brutally massacred and dismembered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Due to the horrific Nature of this Crime, the Magistrate of Westminster,
the Honourable Henry Fielding, has stated his intention to conduct an
Investigation personally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 3pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Attention
was called to the Incident by a Customer of the aforesaid Establishment, who
upon waking from his Drunkenness, discover’d the Head of the Tavern-Keeper upon
the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following a Trail of Blood to
the rear of the House and into the Cellar, he came upon the Corpses of his
Fellowes, rent entirely asunder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Additionally, he reported that the Private Parts of these unfortunate
Men had been piled in the centre of the Cellar-floor ‘like so many Sausages in
a Butcher’s shop’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 3pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The
Magistrate’s office have declined to comment on Details of the Incident, saying
only that most of the Victims were indeed found in the Cellar, and that their
Injuries appear to have been inflicted by an Animal, the Nature and Whereabouts
of which can not be ascertained at present.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Readers interested in further particulars on this matter – especially regarding
the subsequent investigation by the famous Henry Fielding – may refer to
Chapter 14 (numbering entirely coincidental) of </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I9JLF26"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Night Music</span></span></i></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-83622446742043225262014-02-12T19:54:00.002+01:002014-02-12T20:18:45.744+01:00"Night Music" now available!<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Just in time for Valentine’s Day, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Night
Music</i>, the first volume of my autobiography (series title <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Memoirs of an Eighteenth-Century Werewolf</i>)
is now available on the Amazon Kindle platform.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(Compatible with Kindle, Android, Windows, Mac, iPad, iPhone).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><em><strong><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The standard edition can be found </span></strong></em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I9JLG5C"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><strong>here</strong></em></span></a><em><strong><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> and the deluxe Illustrated Edition </span></strong></em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I9JLF26"><span style="color: #0563c1; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><strong>here</strong></em></span></a><em><strong><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">. </span>The first four chapters (standard edition) may be downloaded free of charge from Amazon.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></em></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">
</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">
</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Night Music</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"> covers the period
from 1748 to 1752, and includes accounts of my initial experiences with
lycanthropy at home in Wales, and my subsequent encounters in London with both
the Sisterhood of the Wolf and our hereditary enemies, the males of our kind
known as Apostates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also tell of my
relationships with the composer Handel and the statesman William Pitt, both of
whom I counted among my friends and mentors, though neither knew anything of my
true nature.</span></span><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The publication of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Night Music</i>
would not have been possible without the indefatigable efforts of my human
friend and editor, Dr Brian Stewart, to whom I offer my heartfelt thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A</span>s
readers of this blog already know, it was Brian who first suggested that I make
my story public, and his critical eye in preparing the manuscript for publication
has been most appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His own
contribution has been to add certain bits of historical information in the form
of footnotes (including recommended recordings of the music mentioned), and to
select eighteenth-century paintings and engravings relevant to the story for
the Illustrated Edition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to
say, he has also negotiated the technical hurdles of making <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Night Music</i> available on Amazon Kindle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Brian was also kind enough to write the Amazon description text, which
is couched somewhat in marketing-speak, but accurately captures the gist of my
story: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The young Welsh duchess Andronica
Llewellyn is a rebel – she reads Caesar, shoots pistols, and is not amused when
her elders decide she is to marry some English nobleman for his money. When she
wakes in the forest one morning, naked and covered with blood, Andronica
realises that rebellion was only the beginning. Her beloved cousin Bronwyn is
dead – decapitated and mauled by a wolf – and hunting parties are searching for
the beast.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In her father's library, Andronica
discovers a mysterious family history containing clues to the nature of her
affliction, which seems to recur in the Llewellyn clan every few generations.
According to the ancient chronicle, every previous victim of the curse was also
named Andronica, and its appearance was associated with the arrival of a
beautiful but enigmatic white-haired woman who became her lover.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">As months pass and more innocents are
killed, Andronica becomes desperate to find a cure for her condition. She
consults all the scientific literature available in her time, but learns that
the only 'treatment' suggested for lycanthropy is burning at the stake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Finding no answers and unwilling to
kill again, Andronica decides to end her life with a silver bullet. At the last
moment, however, a letter arrives which changes everything. Andronica rushes
outside to discover who left the message, and is told that it was delivered by
a strange woman with snow-white hair.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sent to London by her father to escape
the horror at home, Andronica enters the world of finer society, where she
entertains the nobility with her virtuosity at the harpsichord and studies
music with the composer Handel. Through the instruction of her Aunt Margaret, a
keeper of secrets and purveyor of information, Andronica learns how women can
wield true power behind the scenes. With her intelligence and wit, she
impresses the future Prime Minister, William Pitt, who engages her to spy on
his political friends and enemies, including members of the Royal Family.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Dazzled by the glittering world of
Georgian London, Andronica nearly forgets her affliction, but it soon reasserts
itself with a vengeance and draws the attention of author and magistrate Henry
Fielding, who suspects that she is not what she seems. His suspicions grow when
Andronica's closest friend and secret lover is brutally murdered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">As she struggles to control her animal
instincts and accept the dire consequences of her actions, Andronica faces even
greater danger when she encounters a male of her species, Lieutenant-Colonel
James Wolfe. The bloodthirsty Wolfe vows to destroy Andronica when she rejects
his advances. This leads to a terrifying confrontation between male and female
which is certain to end in death and destruction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<div class="Indentedquote6" style="margin: 0cm 22.7pt 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In this first volume of her
autobiography, Andronica introduces us to the world inhabited by the Sisterhood
of the Wolf, and we meet some of the characters who will accompany her
subsequent adventures in the royal courts of Europe and on the battlefields of
the Seven Years' War, both in Europe and America.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Readers are invited to address their questions to me in the form of comments to this blog or as e-mails to </span><a href="mailto:andronica.llewellyn@hotmail.com"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">andronica.llewellyn@hotmail.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
</div>
Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-16341567907847171922014-02-07T14:16:00.000+01:002014-02-07T14:16:10.649+01:00Editors remarks on "Night Music" and "Memoirs of an Eighteenth-Century Werewolf"<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Those of you who have been following Andronica’s blog may have wondered how a three-thousand-year-old werewolf came to have a human friend named Brian. Now that she has agreed to publish her life story and to accept my assistance in editing these memoirs, it seems appropriate that I should explain how we became acquainted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Andronica Llewellyn first visited my family sometime in the late 1950s, when I was a small child. She claimed to be a distant relative of my maternal grandfather (who was Welsh), so we always called her Aunt Andronica. My parents accepted her quite readily and never questioned her identity, perhaps because she always brought gifts and told such entertaining stories about her adventures during the war, when she had been a spy for MI6 in France and Germany.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">What I remembered most about Aunt Andronica – apart from the striking amber colour of her eyes – was her remarkable knowledge of history. Her expertise covered an extraordinary range of historical epochs and events, including ancient Britain and Rome, the Crusades, the Black Death in the fourteenth century, the Thirty Years’ War, the American and French Revolutions, the Indian Rebellion of 1857, both World Wars, and the Cuban Missile Crisis. Not only did she know the facts as any historian might, but she could also describe minutiae from everyday life with exceptional vividness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Of all these periods, Andronica had a special emotional connection to the eighteenth century. She could talk for hours about the Seven Years’ War, the splendour of Dresden, the politics of William Pitt, the wisdom of Benjamin Franklin, and even the enormous sexual appetite of Empress Catherine of Russia. Her countless anecdotes from the lives of famous people – Handel and Mozart, Frederick the Great and Maria Theresia, Thomas Jefferson and Marie Antoinette, to name a few – were always told in such lively detail that one could have sworn she had known them all personally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Among her other talents, Aunt Andronica was an excellent harpsichordist, at a time when that instrument had not yet undergone its renaissance. During my teenage years, she frequently gave me phonograph recordings of eighteenth-century music and pointed out what the performers were doing right or (more often) wrong. Her favourite composer was Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, whose music she seemed to understand as if she had composed it herself. Because of her, I was inspired to play the harpsichord myself and to study musicology at university.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">For all her vivacity and wit, however, there was something vaguely sad about Aunt Andronica. As far as we knew, she had never married – though with her great beauty she must have had countless suitors – and she always seemed if she didn’t quite belong here with the rest of us. My parents thought this might have been because Andronica spent so much time in India. In any case, her irregular visits gradually became fewer, and I finally lost track of her completely during my student years in the 1970s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">You may well imagine my surprise, therefore, when I received a telephone call from Andronica Llewellyn a few weeks before Christmas in 2008. By my reckoning, she must have been nearly ninety years old, and I supposed that she was in a nursing home somewhere. On the contrary, she said, her health was perfect and allowed her to travel extensively around the world. At present she was in Germany (where I now live), and wanted to visit me at my earliest convenience. We agreed that she should come the following Friday afternoon, the 12<sup>th</sup> of December.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">When the bell rang at the appointed time, I opened the door and nearly fainted from the shock. Andronica Llewellyn had not aged in the slightest since I had seen her last and still did not appear to be a day over forty. After recovering my wits sufficiently, I invited her in. </span><br>
<br></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
<a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2014/02/editors-remarks-on-night-music-and.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-13705735766695873012014-02-07T12:55:00.001+01:002014-02-07T12:55:52.011+01:00"Night Music" available soon on Amazon Kindle<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I had intended to publish the first volume of my autobiography, <em><span style="font-family: "Times","serif";">Memoirs of an Eighteenth Century Werewolf</span></em>, some time ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, MI6 had other plans and sent me to the godforsaken steppes of Central Asia looking for plutonium smugglers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's the second hardship assignment in a row, after that bit with the drug lords in Mexico.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm beginning to think that they are trying to force me into retirement.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Since there is not much night-life in Kazakhstan, I did manage to accomplish a fair amount of writing and was able to get everything nearly ready for publication.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just needed a little editorial magic from my human friend Brian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has not been particularly well recently – humans are so fragile – so everything has taken longer than expected. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Night Music” – the title he chose for Volume 1 – is now in the works at Amazon, so it should be available soon for Kindle, Android, PC, Mac, iPhone & iPad!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep watching this space.</span>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-62315188750143149952012-10-12T18:08:00.001+02:002012-11-02T16:30:00.177+01:00Crystal Meth and Silver Bullets<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In case you have been wondering where I have been the past several months, the answer is simple: in a Sisterhood hospital recovering from bullet wounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How I got there is a rather long story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It began in a London club and took me first to Estonia, and then to Venezuela and finally to the Mexican state of Michoacán, where I took three silver bullets.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">That I wound up being shot was ultimately my own fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following the unpleasantness in Libya last year, I had steadfastly refused all assignments to the Middle East – especially Syria – so my section chief at MI6 decided to deal with my intransigence by lending me to the organised crime unit of our domestic sister organisation MI5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I considered this job to be well beneath my abilities and took the matter much too lightly, with nearly fatal results.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The task as assigned was ludicrous: I was to assist in tracing the origins of some particularly high-grade crystal meth which had been appearing recently in the London club scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The stuff was much more potent than what was usually cooked in amateur labs, and intel had suggested that the Russian mafia was involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was fluent in the language and had many contacts within the ex-KGB, it was argued, there was no one better qualified to support MI5 in this investigation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, if I chose Damascus instead, they would find someone else to play drug cop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Since I had little interest in spending another desert holiday fighting an Arab dictator, the next evening found me in an upscale West End club wearing a psychedelic miniskirt I had not worn since 1969.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The clubbers called me “retro girl” and I was soon the centre of attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t take long before they invited me into a back room to share some whizz, as they called it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Take my advice and keep far, far away from crystal meth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t try this stuff even once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is probably the most dangerous substance humans have ever concocted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Werewolves cannot be harmed by it, of course, but we are not immune to the effects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After snorting a small amount of the innocuous-looking white powder, it required every ounce of self-control to restrain myself from shifting and tearing everyone in the room to shreds, and this after only one hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After recovering from the initial burst of aggressiveness caused by the drug, I managed to collect my wits sufficiently to ask how I could hook up for more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They gave me an address in Brick Lane.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Needless to say, I didn’t visit the house directly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead I planted myself on the roof of an adjacent building and eavesdropped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other MI6 agents would need special equipment for this, but my wolf ears proved quite adequate to the task.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After two days of surveillance, I had learned the names of several middle-level dealers (subsequently turned over to Metropolitan Police) and followed one of them back to a Georgian terraced house in Camden owned by a respectable Lithuanian businessman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At a distance of thirty metres from the front door, I caught the scent of an Apostate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t surprise me that they had taken to drug smuggling, as there are few professions too despicable for those beasts.</span></span><br>
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</div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2012/10/crystal-meth-and-silver-bullets.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-89768833254951719132012-06-03T20:26:00.000+02:002012-06-03T20:35:41.984+02:00A Lycanthropic Coming-Out in Eighteenth-Century London<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“So just how many humans really do know your secret?” Brian had finished reading my <a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2012/05/stop-discrimination-against-werewolves.html">last blog post</a> and seemed sceptical. “All this business about ‘coming out’ seems rather dubious, considering that the laws of your Sisterhood prohibit revealing yourselves to humans. Or at least so you have told me: any human who learns the truth about you is condemned to be eaten. Obviously that doesn’t apply to everyone, or I should have long since been served up as a main course.”<o:p></o:p></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You’re more like an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hors d’oeuvre</i>,” I said. “We generally like a bit more meat on the bone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“But I weigh nearly fifteen stone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I said meat, not fat. But to answer your question: I have only revealed myself to three humans who lived to tell the tale. The first was Lord Kendrick Llewellyn, twenty-fifth Duke of Caerfyrddin, the father of my eighteenth-century incarnation, who discovered my secret quite by accident on a December evening in 1755.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You mentioned him once,” recalled Brian, “saying that, of all the fathers in all your incarnations throughout the centuries, he was the closest to your heart.”<o:p></o:p></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“That’s right, not least because he never stopped loving me, even after learning the truth – unlike the father before him, Rhioganedd Llewellyn, the twenty-first Duke of Caerfyrddin, who ordered that I be burnt at the stake for witchcraft in 1648.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Not very civilised of him,” said Brian, “but I suppose the seventeenth century was prone to that sort of thing. Tell me about Lord Kendrick.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“He raised me alone after my mother had died in childbirth, and was always terribly concerned about my welfare, though his ideas of a proper upbringing for young ladies hardly coincided with my own. To put it succinctly: he intended to marry me off to some English gentleman to improve the family income, since we were richer in titles than in gold. However, once the killings began…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Killings?”</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2012/06/lycanthropic-coming-out-in-eighteenth.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-26855595423210519792012-05-17T10:36:00.000+02:002012-05-18T08:54:43.152+02:00Werewolves of the world unite! Stop discrimination against lycanthropes! Fight speciesism!<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I decided to come out of the supernatural closet and admit to my friends and relatives that I am a werewolf, some were truly shocked. Of course, they already knew I was lesbian, but that seemed normal enough to most of them. However, the fact that I regularly sprout unsightly underarm hair was patently offensive to those with traditional values about personal hygiene. I lost some friends because of that, and I suspect that others broke relations out of fear that I might tempt their children to try the “alternative lycanthropic lifestyle”. I tried to tell them that being a werewolf is not a choice – I was born this way. Probably they have been watching too many Hollywood films, and think that one can “catch” lycanthropy by being bitten. Don’t they know that only works with vampires?</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Anyway, one of those friends who has remained faithful is Brian, the human I have often written about. Naturally he had misgivings at first, especially when I brought some of my werewolf associates to stay in his house last year while we were hiding from the CIA (long story, see <a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/08/report-from-libya.html">here</a> and <a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/09/cia-cynthia-and-jackal-hunt.html">here</a>), and they threatened to eat him. Nevertheless, Brian has been very supportive, especially of my efforts to find Lysandra, my one true love, who had been my Companion through many incarnations until were tragically separated during the closing months of World War II. It was his suggestion that I use modern means of communication – Blogs, Twitter, and Facebook – to aid in my search for her.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So far, I have not found Lysandra, but I have made a number of new friends along the way – friends who live “out there” in the Internet. Some of them even claim to be werewolves themselves. Since I have not gotten close enough to detect their scent, there’s no way to tell whether they really are lycanthropes, or merely wish they were. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was discussing this phenomenon with Brian the other day. Why would a human want to be a werewolf? Being one myself, I can say truthfully that, while it may have certain advantages (such as being largely invulnerable to injury when no silver is involved), I have often suffered great loss and pain because of what I am. There are some things which are too horrible to be forgotten, like eating my first girlfriend. No one had told me that sex would be so messy. This is why I do support the abstinence movement among teenage werewolves, as I’m convinced that it will help lower the rate of unwanted mutilations. Don’t mistake this for social conservatism on my part, however, as I wholeheartedly endorse the legalisation of lycanthropic marriage and vehemently disagree with those who believe that God intended matrimony for humans only. I can’t understand why allowing werewolves to marry would diminish the value of human relationships.</span><br>
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</div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2012/05/stop-discrimination-against-werewolves.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-63584681089515740022011-09-30T13:04:00.021+02:002011-10-01T21:35:57.189+02:00Werewolves and Cannonballs<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“So, have you got Cynthia properly sorted?” asked Brian as I collapsed onto the sofa in his study. “Is she now all pointy teeth and hairy legs? Or did you decide to eat her after all?”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">My afternoon flight from Heathrow to Stuttgart had been delayed nearly two hours and I was exhausted after a week of MI6 debriefings about Libya. Thus I was in no mood for Brian’s questioning.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“The Initiation proceeded exactly as expected,” I said, resting my feet on his expensive coffee table, “and Cynthia does make a very attractive werewolf.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“A natural blonde, is she?” He offered me a cushion to protect the mahogany finish from my boots. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“That’s a typically male question,” I observed. “If you must know, she is blonde from top to bottom – rather a novelty among the Sisterhood. Beautiful fur, but hard to get clean after the hunt, with all that blood.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You took her hunting? Presumably the steppes of Russia provided ample game for the purpose.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“In fact, the Initiation is the only exception to the Sisterhood’s rule prohibiting the killing of humans, and the ceremony concludes with a ritual sacrifice. In the past, when Initiations were more common, dozens of virgins were often sacrificed at once. Last week we had trouble finding even one, however, so I suppose it was fortunate that there was only Cynthia.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Brian turned pale and reached for the wastepaper bin.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“It is a great honour for the human thus chosen,” I reassured him. “In her next lifetime, she will be initiated into the Sisterhood herself.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Rather poor consolation for the murdered girl,” commented Brian, still holding the bin. “And where is Cynthia now? You haven’t brought her back here, I hope. By now the Russian authorities will be searching for the killer, and they will surely make a DNA match to Cynthia’s CIA records.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Not to worry,” I said. “Our DNA undergoes the transformation as well, and is quite untraceable. As for Cynthia, after the Initiation we took her back to the CIA outpost in Libya, where she pretended to have escaped from al-Qaida. I’ve put a request through channels for Cynthia to be transferred to Cairo next week, so that Kasaqa can begin training her before the next monthly bleeding. We don’t want any uncontrolled transformations.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“So Kasaqa is to be her Companion? I thought you two…”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Yes, well, things don’t always work out. But perhaps it’s for the best. Cynthia’s dreadful American accent was beginning to get on my nerves. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a shower. I’m completely worn out.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Have you got a new assignment from MI6?” Brian was being annoyingly persistent today.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“They were considering sending me to Syria, but I declined – no more Arab dictatorships for a while, thank you. Maybe I’ll be assigned somewhere relaxing, like North Korea.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You’re joking of course.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Not at all. The hills outside Pyongyang are beautiful in the wintertime. Besides, I’m not likely to come under artillery fire there. I had quite enough of that in Tripoli.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of artillery? I thought werewolves could only be harmed by silver.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“And fire. The Sisterhood thinks that the flash from a high-explosive round might be sufficient to cause fatal injuries, and I certainly don’t want to find out. Besides, being struck by non-silver weapons is quite painful, even if ultimately harmless. I once took a direct hit from a three-pounder, and would not care to repeat the experience.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“A three-pounder? Sounds like an extra-large McBurger…”</span></span><br>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/09/werewolves-and-cannonballs_5461.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-84448178227324721062011-09-02T16:40:00.004+02:002011-09-10T15:06:30.163+02:00CIA Cynthia and the Jackal Hunt<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You did <i>what</i>?” Brian nearly spilled his morning coffee. “Have you gone completely mental? You can’t just kidnap a CIA agent and turn her into a werewolf.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“First of all, we didn’t kidnap her,” I said. “She asked for this. And second, we haven’t turned her yet. We’re taking her to the Circle of Initiation at Ryazan in Russia. Too many tourists at Stonehenge this time of year. But in the meantime, the CIA has gotten on our tails. They think she’s been abducted by al-Qaida and are searching for her. So we’ve got to drop off the grid for a few days. I told MI6 that I’ve gone under cover to find Gaddafi.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Okay, so where have you hidden her?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“She’s outside in the car.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Now he did spill his coffee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Are you bonkers? Any minute now, the house will be surrounded by black SUVs.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Don’t be silly. This isn’t America.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Right, black Mercedes then. But there will still be men in black suits with black sunglasses and automatic weapons. The GSG 9 don’t mess around. At least bring her inside where the neighbours can’t see.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I went to fetch Cynthia from the car we had stolen in Genoa. Kasaqa and Caterina had come along for extra protection. I had briefed them about my human friend Brian, saying that he was helping me find Lysandra. Kasaqa was more than suspicious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You can’t trust <em>any</em> males,” she said. “How do you know he isn’t in league with the Apostates?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I’ve known Brian over fifty years, since he was a child,” I said. “He’s completely harmless. A former college professor.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You realise that this goes entirely against the Sisterhood’s laws,” said Kasaqa. “By rights, we should eat him.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Don’t worry. I’ll take full responsibility. If at any time he starts acting suspiciously, I will munch him myself.”</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/09/cia-cynthia-and-jackal-hunt.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-65051871538260928412011-08-21T14:30:00.011+02:002011-08-21T22:22:07.739+02:00Report from Libya<div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">You may recall from my last blog post two weeks ago that I was called by MI6 for an assignment in Libya.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been there ever since.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who has been following the news will know that a real war is happening here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Followers of this blog will suspect that more is going on than you will hear about from CNN.</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Soon after my arrival in Tripoli, where I was staying under cover as an oil-company executive, three Apostates tried to kill me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my work for MI6, I’m used to being shot at, but rarely with silver bullets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These Apostates were mean and armed to the teeth (literally).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last Sunday, I lured them into a trap by sunbathing at the hotel pool in a string bikini, with my twin Berettas concealed under the towel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was evening before they came.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under the full moon they approached with the intention of making a meal out of me (I was already broiled to well-done by the sun) and Bang! two went down with silver between the eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The third turned tail and fled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was a week ago.</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I later learned that the third Apostate had escaped over the border into Egypt – probably heading for the secret Temple of Sutekh in the desert west of Karnak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There he would no doubt find reinforcements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The day after the incident at the pool – and yes, there are still luxury hotels operating in Tripoli – I was called to act as MI6 liaison to a CIA listening post near Zawiya.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Americans use these to monitor Libyan military communications and to co-ordinate the air strikes against Gaddafi’s troops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There I met Cynthia, a very attractive CIA operative, fluent in Arabic and an electronics expert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hit it off quite well, which led me to enquire via Facebook/Twitter whether the CIA has a DADT rule (Google it, if you’re unsure).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought it would be too forward to ask her directly.</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Some of you may be shaking your heads and thinking <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What about Lysandra?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, she has been your Companion for three thousand years!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can you do this to her?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>My answer is simple: Lysandra has been missing since 1945.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just how long do you expect me to remain celibate?</span><br>
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</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/08/report-from-libya.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-54451027473608487522011-08-07T15:14:00.018+02:002011-08-07T16:05:27.549+02:00Werewolf Fact and Fiction<div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You’ve been coming here for several months now,” complained Brian the other day, “and I haven’t once seen you transform into a werewolf, not even at the full moon. What good is having a werewolf friend if you never show me anything? There’s nothing at all unusual about you, apart from your admittedly inhuman-looking yellow eyes – and those could simply be contact lenses. How do I know that you haven’t been pulling my leg about this whole thing?”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I held my right hand in front of Brian’s face and willed my forearm to shift, just enough for him to see sufficient hair and claws to convince him of my sincerity. He went white at the sight.</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“It’s actually forbidden to allow humans to observe our transformations,” I said. “If I show you any more, I will have to kill you.”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“That won’t be necessary,” he replied, wiping his brow. “You’ve made your point.”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“A moment ago, you said something which reveals that you harbour a common misconception about us. We don’t ‘transform into werewolves’ – we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are</i> werewolves. My human form is just as lycanthropic as my other shapes.”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Shapes, plural? You have more than one?” </div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Of course. Haven’t you ever wondered why Hollywood cannot agree on how werewolves should look?”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I supposed it was because – as you have said yourself – the movies always get everything wrong when it comes to lycanthropy.”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Not quite everything,” I replied. “Most werewolf films do have some basis in fact, though it’s mixed liberally with half-truths, legends, and a great deal of rubbish. If Hollywood wants to get it right for once, they should hire me as a technical consultant.”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“OK then, let’s start with the basics,” said Brian. “What do werewolves really look like? The quadrupeds-on-steroids of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Twilight</i>, or the seven-foot monsters of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dog Soldiers</i>?”</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/08/werewolf-fact-and-fiction.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-66439786081467863042011-07-28T19:04:00.002+02:002011-07-28T19:07:44.882+02:00Music Lessons with Mr Handel<div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Last week I was on assignment for MI6 in Syria, a very unpleasant affair indeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I returned, my human friend Brian began asking questions about the business of international espionage, as he is a great fan of spy movies and was wondering if the reality is anything like the fiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since MI6 doesn’t take kindly to their secrets being revealed to outsiders, however, I politely refused to go into detail, except to say that spying in repressive dictatorships is always a risky undertaking, even for a werewolf.</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Of course I understand that you can’t say anything about your current assignments,” said Brian, “but surely you can tell me something about your experiences in the past, spying for William Pitt and Frederick the Great, for example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ve been dead long enough that they shouldn’t mind.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“That’s a good point,” I agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Very well, it won’t hurt to tell you a few things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First of all, the most important principle of espionage – whether in the eighteenth century or the present day – is to have a good cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s much easier to hide in plain sight, behind a profession or activity which arouses no suspicion, than to fight your way out after being discovered.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Yes, I’m familiar with the principle from watching <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Alias</i>,” said Brian. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“So you were the Sydney Bristow of the eighteenth century?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You do faintly resemble Jennifer Garner…”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I’ll take that as a compliment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike your television heroine, however, I only used one cover during all my years of service as ‘private correspondent’ to Pitt and the Prussians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My profession was that of a travelling harpsichord virtuoso, which gave me access to the highest circles of the nobility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Invitations came from all the royal courts, and naturally I used my concert appearances to gather intelligence about the goings-on behind closed doors in the great European palaces of state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No-one ever suspected me – ‘a mere woman’, as Frederick the Great often said – of political and military espionage.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“But weren’t musicians generally regarded as servants in those days?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did you gain acceptance at the courts of kings and emperors?”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Don’t forget that I was a duchess myself, though the Duchy of Caerfyrddin was rather insignificant by Continental standards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In addition to my title, I also had impeccable credentials as a musician, since I had studied with Mr Handel in my youth.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Handel was your teacher?” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> His </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">eyes went wide in astonishment. </span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“He actually pronounced it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hendel</i>,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“After all, he was German, even though the English like to believe otherwise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yes, I began studying composition with him in 1749, shortly after I arrived in London to live with my aunt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Handel rarely accepted pupils, so I was very fortunate that he agreed to teach me.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“This is incredible,” said Brian, “I know several professors of musicology who would give anything to interview you and learn about Handel’s teaching methods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could shed new light on his entire creative process…”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Sorry, but you know the rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No interviews and no public appearances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure that there are professors in many fields who would love to interview a centuries-old werewolf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some would doubtless like to dissect me as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as I’ve told you repeatedly, this little experiment of ours must retain the appearance of fiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No-one must ever suspect that I really exist.”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Well, can you at least tell <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i> something about your studies with Handel?”</span></div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“All right, I’ll let you read a passage from my memoirs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you must agree not to reveal anything on to your academic friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise, I will have to eat you.” </span><br>
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</div><div class="Withoutindent" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/07/music-lessons-with-mr-handel.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-27321805727801820652011-07-16T17:09:00.006+02:002011-07-21T20:47:44.778+02:00A Roman Werewolf at Maria Theresia's Court<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In my last post, I revealed several things about the Sisterhood’s most perfidious opponent, that sect of male werewolves known as Apostates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One astute reader observed that amongst the pictures of my enemies recently posted on my </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Andronica-Llewellyn/222262184474465"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Facebook page</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> appears the likeness of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wenzel_Anton,_Prince_of_Kaunitz-Rietberg"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Wenzel Anton Graf von Kaunitz</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">, and wondered if he had been an Apostate as well.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Historians of the eighteenth century will know Kaunitz as chancellor to the Austrian Empress </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Theresia"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maria Theresia</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> and as the mastermind of the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Years%27_War"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Seven Years’ War</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">, that great conflagration which engulfed Europe and North America from 1756 to 1763.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Readers of this blog will already suspect that Kaunitz’s motivations were not entirely political.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I first encountered Graf von Kaunitz almost two years before the war began.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through my activities as “private correspondent” to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Pitt,_1st_Earl_of_Chatham"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">William Pitt</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_the_Great"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Frederick the Great</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">, I had been aware of Kaunitz’s political machinations for some time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through the Sisterhood, I also knew that he was an Apostate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The following excerpt from my memoirs describes our first meeting, at the palace of </span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_II_Anton_Esterh%C3%A1zy">Prince Esterházy</a></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the time, my “cover” (as my present-day colleagues at MI6 would call it) was that of a travelling harpsichord virtuoso, a circumstance which provided access to the highest noble houses in Europe, where the topics of conversation were often of interest to my employers in the chanceries of London and Berlin.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">* * *</span></span></div><div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: right;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Vienna, November 1754</span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was the first autumn soirée held by Prince Esterházy after his return to Vienna from Eisenstadt where I finally met the most influential of the Apostates at the Austrian court, Wenzel Anton Graf von Kaunitz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With his rise from relative obscurity to become Maria Theresia’s ambassador to Versailles in 1750, Kaunitz had first attracted the attention of the Sisterhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that he had been named chief advisor to the Empress, we were observing him very closely, as his efforts to engineer new alliances between the European powers were obviously positioning Austria for a new war with Prussia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What made the matter all the more alarming, however, was that we knew nothing whatsoever about Kaunitz’s origins, and an unknown enemy was a dangerous enemy.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I had just finished playing a new sonata by my young friend Haydn when Graf von Kaunitz entered the salon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a small man, impeccably dressed, and he moved with the self-assurance of one who felt himself vastly superior to everyone around him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The assembled lords and ladies all bowed to him, except Prince Esterházy, of course, since his rank was higher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But even the Prince inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the Count’s position of power in the Empire, which in the meantime was second only to Maria Theresia herself.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">After he had greeted the Prince, Kaunitz approached me and bowed floridly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because my own rank exceeded that of everyone else present, the Count was formally obliged to make this obeisance to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never insisted on such protocols, however, so I suspected that the Apostate had other motives than the strict observance of courtly etiquette.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“My dear Duchess Llewellyn, how splendid to make your acquaintance finally,” said Kaunitz in a tone which bespoke complete sincerity and thus made me even more suspicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Please permit me to say that you are far more intriguing in person than the stories about you<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>have led me to believe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do regret to have missed your performance, as I have heard that you are a very fine harpsichordist, but surely there will be other occasions.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">This Apostate was like no other I had ever met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was none of the malevolence exhibited by his fellows; in fact, he appeared to be the perfect gentleman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even his scent was relatively inoffensive, and his breath lacked the odour of decaying flesh which most Apostates exuded.</span></span><br>
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"></div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/07/wenzel-anton-graf-von-kaunitz-lord-of.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-69896984389225276822011-07-08T22:12:00.007+02:002011-07-23T11:22:50.871+02:00Birds, Bees, and Werewolves<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Perhaps you have been wondering how werewolves reproduce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Considering all the claws and fangs involved, some of you may think “very carefully”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others may recall the sex-scene from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Howling </i>and suppose that we do it “with animal passion”.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">My first admonition is never to believe anything Hollywood says about werewolves – it is nearly all rubbish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some future post, I will discuss Werewolf Fact and Fiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for now, forget the lycanthropic legends and movie mythology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is the straight story.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">We do not reproduce.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I know that sounds frightfully dull, but once you have learned about the males of our species, you will understand why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">DISCLAIMER: This article frequently mentions “our kind” or “our species”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I am referring exclusively to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Homo lupus europae</i> (Common European Werewolf), which has been indigenous to Europe, North Africa and Asia since about 10,000 B.C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The characteristics described here may or may not apply to other werewolf species on other continents.</span></strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Among European werewolves there are two main “tribes” – for lack of a better word, since only natural wolves form packs – one female and the other male.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our two tribes have been mortal enemies since time immemorial. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, most werewolf deaths are caused by inter-sex violence. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(At least this is true of all the lycanthropes I have ever encountered, but once again, your experience may vary.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The males of our kind are vicious, sadistic creatures, and pretty much live up to their popular image.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We females, on the other hand, are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">usually</i> more spiritually inclined and therefore less violent, though we can be just as dangerous as males, should the situation warrant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This behavioural difference has nothing to do with gender, however, but is the result of our social organisation and cultural traditions.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/07/birds-bees-and-werewolves.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-65017955594085313402011-07-03T01:18:00.007+02:002011-07-03T01:30:44.049+02:00A Welsh Werewolf in Facebook<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">After my human friend Brian had browbeaten me into starting this blog, I thought that would be the end of it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But no. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday he went on incessantly about a thing called Facebook, saying that I should definitely start my own page. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first I assumed that Facebook was a collection of photographs, like those which American policemen call “mug shots” and use for identifying criminals. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Because</span> my last really serious crime was in 1757, however, when I ate parts of two nuns during the Siege of Prague, I thought that the statute of limitations would have cleaned the slate by now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, I have reincarnated since then, and am certain that the paw-prints left at the scene would not match my present ones.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Brian corrected my misapprehension, saying that Facebook is what modern people call a “social network”, which humans use to remain in contact with their friends around the world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He discounted my objection that all of my friends died more than two centuries ago, as with Facebook I would surely find some new ones. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Furthermore, using Facebook would significantly increase the chances that Lysandra will find me, he said, because it would generate more potential Google hits (whatever they are).</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So once again, I have allowed myself to be swayed by the argument that the Electronic Media can aid in the search for my beloved Lysandra. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can help me find her as well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Simply go to the </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Andronica-Llewellyn/222262184474465"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Facebook page</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I have created and have a look at the photo album entitled <em>My friends.</em> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first portrait shows Lysandra as she appeared around 1745. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I appeal to anyone who might recognise the woman in this picture to contact me immediately by </span><a href="mailto:andronica.llewellyn@hotmail.com"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">eMail</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Kind Regards,</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Andronica</span><br />
<br><p>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5015014802402298471.post-46157865832387514132011-06-28T03:05:00.007+02:002011-07-23T11:25:41.781+02:00Can An Old Werewolf Be Taught New Tricks?<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I had just finished tuning the harpsichord the other day, when my human friend Brian said that I should consider getting an electronic one to save the bother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was but the last in a series of ridiculous suggestions, which began when he decided that I needed to embrace the various technological advances of the twenty-first century.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The most absurd of his proposals, however, was that I should write a blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I am now obviously doing so, you will doubtless be wondering how he put me up to it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Before I get to that, you need to know that I am not a total stranger to technology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, I have been using a PC since they first appeared in the early 1980s, when I began writing my memoirs about being a werewolf in the eighteenth century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (In those days, I was known as Lady Llewellyn, <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">the 26th Duchess of Caerfyrddin.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span>After centuries of writing long letters by hand, I was intrigued by the possibility of making corrections elegantly, without the messy business of ink erasers - you know the kind, which scratch the ink from the paper, likely as not making a hole - or simply striking through the unwanted text and probably making a huge ink blot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever wonder what the sand-shaker was for?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">In any case, I began with WordStar 3.3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any of you humans who are old enough to remember WordStar will recall that it was a classic “green screen” programme, where What You See Is <i>Not</i> What You Get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nevertheless, I loved WordStar, as it really made writing a pleasure instead of a chore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in those days, I even bought one of the first “schlepp-top” computers, so that I could write while travelling, which I do a great deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(In some later post, I may tell you something about my job at MI6.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To you Americans out there: MI6 is like the CIA, but with a British accent.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">After WordStar came WordPerfect, also a green screen application but with a real WYSIWYG preview, which greatly saved on wasted paper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At about the same time, Microsoft Word first appeared, but I remained loyal to WordPerfect for quite a long while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, hanging on to antiquated systems is one of my foibles, and has often gotten me into trouble in the past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was on the wrong side in 1793, for example, and had an unfortunate encounter with a guillotine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Yes, I got better, thank you.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I seem to have digressed, as the topic of this post is actually how I am learning to use <i>new</i> technology.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">For years, I have been content to use the computer as a glorified typewriter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When someone first told me about the “World Wide Web” back in the 1990s, I was quite sceptical, partly because I am deathly afraid of spiders, but also because it seemed highly unlikely to me that the medium would ever become anything more than a playground for technology enthusiasts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>History has proved me wrong yet again, though not quite as badly as in 1914, when I tried to prevent World War One (you see how well that worked).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I digress again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you know, the Internet has turned out to be more than a passing fad, and in fact I have used it occasionally myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Which brings me to the actual point I was trying to make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just saying to Brian the other day how much I prefer reading books to reading on a computer screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a former college professor, so I assumed that he would agree with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite the contrary.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“It just goes to show that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” he said.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“I beg your pardon, sir!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I may be three thousand years old, I don’t look a day over forty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I am most definitely <i>not</i> a dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a term which we werewolves find most insulting.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br>
</div><a href="http://www.andronicallewellyn.com/2011/06/can-old-werewolf-be-taught-new-tricks.html#more">Read more »</a>Andronica Llewellynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11251683850374976787noreply@blogger.com6