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The Worst Werewolf by Jacqueline Rohrbach Blog Tour

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We have Jacqueline Rohrbach stopping by today with her new release The Worst Werewolf from NineStar Press

Werewolf Movies – Dog Soldiers

Warning: Contains spoilers for Dog Soldiers.

One of the big reasons I wanted to write a werewolf book was because I’m a fangirl.

Werewolf movies provided a lot of inspiration, and quite a few laughs, for The Worst Werewolf. I watched as many as I could, sometimes re-watching my favorites. Common themes within the genre were fun to experiment with in my own work, especially when I could play with the dark humor in horror-movie moments.

Although I enjoy all the tropes on some level (yes, even the dumbest of dumb decisions), for this blog post I’m going to focus on the can-it-really-be-werewolves speech. This is the point in the movie where the characters have a nice chat about whether or not the creature eating everyone actually exists.

Most of the movies I watched had it in some form or another, and I can understand why in most cases. After all, it is unreasonable to assume it’s werewolves first thing. I know I wouldn’t see a mutilated body in the woods and immediately say, “Damn lycanthropes!”

Sometimes, however, the speech—and the denial wrapped up in it—feels like it exists for the sake of the audience, who probably don’t need an extended debate about whether or not werewolves exist either. Maybe they do. Maybe they thought the werewolf movie they rented or bought a ticket for was about medieval politics.

What werewolf movie do I think has the best—and by “best” I mean totally and comically unnecessary—can-it-really-be-werewolves speech? I have to give it to Dog Soldiers.

A lot of people hold this up as a really serious werewolf movie, but I don’t know what they watched. Tone wise, it’s pretty atmospheric right up until Sgt. Harry says, “Jesus, my guts are out, Coop.” And Cooper responds, “Well, I’ll just put them back in again.”

Cooper does it! He totally puts Harry’s guts back in his stomach, just shoves them right on in there like he’s stuffing wet clothes into a dryer. Seconds later, Harry gets touched by Jesus and can walk (with some assistance) and shoot at werewolves.

Fast-forward. A woman (Megan) with a jeep saves them. Instead driving the heck out of the Forest of Really Bad Survival Odds like sane people, they decide to stop because Harry’s gut wound needs all the excellent medical care a farm can provide. And then they put field dressing on it! Field dressing.

How soon do they werewolves find them? Pretty much right after they stop.

A few scenes after that, Harry (the guy with his guts spilling out) walks up the stairs and says to Megan, “Can you pass me my gun please?” She gives it to him, and he says, “Thank you.” In this moment, Harry set a really high standard for manners under pressure.

So, to recap, Cooper makes a decision only Kant could be proud of and forces everyone stop at an abandoned farm that’s wearing a nametag that says, “Hello, my name is DEATH.” Once there, he orders his men to give Harry treatment he could have received in the Jeep. Afterward, he immediately wants to leave because Harry’s gut wound is too severe for abandoned farm technology to fix.

To be fair to the movie, they do later superglue Harry’s stomach back together. Sure he would have already died due to blood loss…but they did technically use something from the farm.

Fast-forward a bit more. We’re finally at the can-it-be-werewolves chat. Keep in mind everyone has seen the werewolves by this point in the movie. People ran away from them. A few were eaten by the werewolves. A werewolf punched a hole through the roof of a jeep and tried to grab itself a snack.

Does this discussion really need to take place in a movie where all this has already happened? This movie says, “Yes.” This movie says “yes” so loud it has Cooper theorize they’re dealing with escaped mental patients with overgrown hair and untrimmed nails. And then he makes Megan take her werewolves talk to “the boys” for further review. They also doubt her.

There is at least one more werewolf attack before the topic comes up AGAIN.

Solider guy (to Megan): Are you serious about this werewolf stuff?

Megan: Yes…

The movie is so certain it needs a are-there-REALLY-werewolves speech, it hashes through it three separate times! Poor desperate Megan eventually uses the power outage as evidence they’re dealing with lycanthropes. Oddly, that argument seems to get more traction than actual werewolves eating people. *shrug*

All that is hysterical (to me), but my favorite line is when Cooper says, “We’re going to make it through this. You know why? I don’t scare that easy.”

Only Cooper and the dog survive. RIP everyone else.

Hope readers find moments like these to pick apart and enjoy in the Worst Werewolf from NineStar Press. Part of the fun of horror is sitting down to discuss all those upward and downward counterfactuals. What could I have done differently to survive? Why are these people so irrational? Why are they going in there? You know you love it. I know I do!

Want to discuss your favorite can-it-be-werewolves speech or send me a message? Feel free to follow me @immutablemoon! Thanks for reading!

Title: The Worst Werewolf

Series: The Immutable Moon, Book 1

Author: Jacqueline Rohrbach

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 13th

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 67600

Genre: Romance, paranormal, gay, lgbt, werewolves, vampires

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The werewolf said, “Race you to the road.” It was the last thing Tovin heard before his life became uncomfortably complex.

Before that night in the forest, Tovin was the type of guy to play it safe. Happy wearing the same shoes, buying the same deodorant, and eating the same meals day after day, he thought his simple existence was pretty great. At least until his boyfriend dumps him for being boring. Heartbroken but on a mission of vengeance, Tovin decides to start a new life filled with excitement, danger, and maybe a meal from a questionable food truck.

A date with Garvey would start it all. Handsome, sophisticated, the man is everything Tovin thinks he needs. It’s a pity he turns out to be a werewolf on a mission to save his pack from destruction.

Now Tovin is caught up in Garvey’s world.

Abducted and forced to be the bloodservant of a powerful Alpha, he lands right in the middle of a brewing conflict that threatens to destroy humanity.


City people came to the forest with heads full of Whitmanesque romantic notions. Most didn’t discover themselves there. Rather, they were found by search and rescue, cold and shivering from disenchantment. And sometimes pneumonia.

Garvey seemed to fall into that camp. At least he sounded that way when he said, “The forest is magical, right?”

Carpenter ants bit his arms and legs, rocks dug into his butt cheeks, pine needles stung the palms of his hands, and droplets of deer poo splattered around the area gave the air a musky odor. The forest sucked. It was about as non-magical as a place could get, the very definition of earthy. But his date’s ass was spellbinding, so Tovin remained agreeable. “Sure,” he said, “this is great.”

Tovin wasn’t dumb, only horny. He’d heard countless stories about people having sex in the woods that all turned out okay. Kids in high school talked about little else, each locker room story was the start of a cautionary tale that ended in sexual conquest, not anything terrible. Even adults did it. His co-workers met women out here. All of them were fine. Just fine.

“…and that’s why I’m here.” Tovin was done explaining himself to Garvey.

Garvey turned. “So you’re here because you finally decided to take a risk and treat yourself?”


Garvey chuckled. “Oh dear.”

Nervous, Tovin fiddled with the edge of the blanket and sipped at overly sweet wine as his companion fussed to secure the backpack he brought with him. Garvey insisted on lugging the junk with them to, as he said, do it right. A blanket, some cheap wine, a few candles. Tovin wasn’t exactly dazzled. His date was as cheap as he was weird.

Once settled, Garvey was right down to business—taking off his shirt, his shoes, and undoing the top button of his pants. “Too much too soon?” He didn’t wait for a response, only browsed through Tovin’s facial features. “Pants it is. To be clear, we did come to the forest to screw, yeah?”

Tovin nodded.
“Fantastic, then. Let’s get on with it.”
Given the precipitous nature of the man’s undressing, Tovin expected a rough, demanding mouth upon his, taking what it wanted. Screwing, basically. Instead, Garvey traced the lines of Tovin’s face with soft kisses. He used the back of his hand to tenderly follow the same path. Noses bumped. Brown eyes continually met his as if asking, Is this okay? Do you like this?

Tentative, Tovin reached out to touch the nest of hair at the nape of Garvey’s neck, drawing away when the man arched his eyebrow at the gesture. “Sorry.” Tovin mumbled to his lap.

“I’m sorry, too, sweet treat. I want you to touch it, just not like that. It’s not going to kill you.” Garvey presented his head, shook it slightly so that the hair tussled and realigned itself around his crown.

Tovin stammered out a quick reply, “No, it’s made of keratin. Keratin would not kill you. Unless it’s in horns. Or nails. Then, I guess it could.” Inwardly, Tovin sighed at himself when Garvey tilted his head and once again raised his eyebrow. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”

“Noted,” Garvey quipped. “Touch my glorious mane of non-lethal keratin, then. It’s the best type of keratin, I say.”

Tovin was in the process of reaching for the second time—faster, slightly more confident—when two howls interrupted. He jumped at the noise, once again pulling back his fingers. He withdrew to the edge of the blanket. “What was that?”

Garvey smiled his same swagger smile, the right side of his mouth curving so that one lone incisor poked out of his lips. “Feral dogs.” He bent again to kiss at the corners of Tovin’s mouth. “And just when I thought you were going to make your move at last. You are so much work.”

“Feral dogs? What are they doing?”

“Being feral dogs. Hunting. Don’t worry. They’re not hunting you, sweet treat.” A reassuring hand traced the length of Tovin’s jaw. “They probably got scent of a rabbit, a squirrel…a something.”

“How do you know? They sound close.”

Garvey’s eyes darkened. “I know,” he paused slightly to bring Tovin’s mouth level with his, “because you’ve already been caught.”


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Meet the Author

Jacqueline Rohrbach is a 36-year-old creative writer living in windy central Washington. When she isn’t writing strange books about bloodsucking magical werewolves, she’s baking sweets, or walking her two dogs, Nibbler and Mulder. She also loves cheesy ghost shows, especially when the hosts call out the ghost out like he wants to brawl with it in a bar. You know, “Come out here, you coward! You like to haunt little kids. Haunt me!” Jackee laughs at this EVERY time. She’s also a hopeless World of Warcraft addict. In her heyday, she was a top parsing disc priest. She became a paladin to fight Deathwing, she went back to a priest to cuddle pandas, and then she went to a shaman because I guess she thought it would be fun to spend an entire expansion underpowered and frustrated. Boomchicken for Legion!


Tour Schedule

2/13 – Books,Dreams,Life 2/13 – Joyfully Jay 2/14 – Stories That Make You Smile 2/14 – Boy Meets Boy Reviews 2/15 – Prism Book Alliance 2/15 – On Top Down Under Book Reviews 2/16 – Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews 2/16 – Divine Magazine 2/17 – Happily Ever Chapter 2/17 – Love Bytes


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