Footprints are important in the supernatural world.

Footprints prints are believed to have some essence of who ever created the print. In Africa, people make sure their footprints are destroyed so witches cannot use the dirt from the print for evil magic against them.

More so for people who want to be a werewolf.

wolf print

Drinking water collected in the footprints of wolf’s -extra power for footprints left in Clay- gave people the power to shape shift into a werewolf.


In Russia becoming a werewolf is easy. All that’s needed to shape-shift into an Oborot “one transformed” is a magic incantation and to find a cut down tree in the forest.

The tree stump would be stabbed with the copper knife and circled as the person said the spell. Once the spell was said the person had to jump over the stabbed stump three times. He then ran further into the forest and wolf form.

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The Ruvaush is Romany term for wolf-man. Ruv equals wolf and manush equals man.

Romani lore tells of a werewolf creatures created by a vampire which who can suck the blood of men during the waxing moon. The man becomes a werewolf. Even when in human form he can only eat raw flesh and blood.
In the 19th-century Hungarian gypsy named Kropan lived with his wife in Torres. He suspected his wife of having an affair because she’d wait every night for him to fall asleep and leave. She also had choice cuts of meat even though his salary could not afford meet.

old wer

One night he decided to spy on her. She came back the following morning in wolf form and shape-shifted into human form. He was horrified but kept silent. Soon they had enough meat for him to travel to the next village and sell it.
He made enough money to open and inn, where he and his wife sold cheap plates of food.

The villagers became suspicious. They took him and his wife to the priest for next versus him when the wife was sprinkled with holy water she shrieked in pain and disappeared. The mob killed Kropan. The two responsible for the murder were convicted and sentenced by a six-year prison term. They were released in 1881.


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Have you ever wondered what happens to people who piss off the devil?
No! I have, and it seems I’m not alone. *looks into cyber world. . . rolls eyes.*
Okay I’ll tell you.

Russian lore tells what happens to a man cursed by the devil. He’s doomed to live his life as a wolf, among his family.

wer and boy

His family recognizes him and they care for him, and feed him. He’s not like our current thoughts on werewolves, suffering from blood rage. The Wawkalak is gentle, he even licks the family that cares for him. But, the Wawkalak, can’t accept a good thing. He constantly needs change and wanders from village to village.

The Blood Talisman

blood talisman banner


The Blood Talisman by Kim Culpepper


Book Name: The Blood Talisman

Book Genre: Urban Fantasy

Book release date: 05/21/2014

The Blood Talisman on Goodreads:

The Blood Talisman on Amazon:

The Blood Talisman coverI love this cover….

The Blood Talisman book blurb:

Alex Jacobs gets bitten by a werewolf, and that’s only the beginning of his problems. When his wife is kidnapped and turned into someone he doesn’t recognize anymore, he not only struggles with letting her go but, also with saving her life.

Selene is a powerful witch that not only teaches Alex the ways of the wolf but, also teaches him about restraint and purpose. Her shy innocence quickly attracts him to her and he struggles with being torn between two women. Their feelings for each other are constantly put to the test as a battle for the blood talisman, the key to immortality, is fought for power to some and a way to live forever for others. It is quickly learned that immortality comes at a price to all of humanity.
Doesn’t this sound awesome!!! I’m so going to read this. Stay tuned for a review. I’ve got some little pieces to entice you with too.

She sat on the grass, moving her hands up and down along it, as if she were calming it. The wind began to blow softly at first and then harder from within the forest. Selene’s long hair whipped Alex’s face behind her. He started to worry from not understanding what was happening. Suddenly the wind stopped and she stood and whistled. The whistle carried throughout the forest in the opposite direction of the wind. There was a moment of silence and then the sounds of tiny footsteps filled the forest. Alex took hold of Selene’s arm once again in a protective manner, and pulled her closer to him. He watched the forest and she watched him.

Ember grabbed Alex by the neck, lifting him off his feet. The bones within him started to break and his blood scorched angrily through him. She threw him down just as he finished changing into the wolf. He could smell the blood from the man lying on the floor, hear his heart slowly beating. He was very near death. Ember stood back and watched in enjoyment as he devoured the attendant.

Selene fell to the floor, laying her book bag into her lap and crying for Alex’s absence. She had come so far with him to have it end like this. She felt lost and confused without him. She no longer had focus and restraint. What hurt her the worst was that he hadn’t told her that he loved her. He had only done that once, before they hunted for the blood talisman. She sat there in shock and in emotional pieces, without words.

“I will rip your throat out, wolf. Then I’ll bed your wife and have your mistress killed. Don’t tempt me,” Ram snarled at him as he released his grip and Alex fell to the floor.

His breath began to increase with every inch closer to her face. Her eyes were like glass as they glared into his very soul.

OMG! I’m so going to read this.

About Kim:

Kim Culpepper is a horror lover! She is the author of The Blood Talisman, several short stories, and also runs Dark Child Create, a company the designs custom book covers. Her work has been published in Sanitarium Magazine, The Opening Line Literary Zine, and more.

Kim's headshot

Kim is a native of Colombus, Mississippi where she lives with her wonderful husband, two beautiful kids, and two mischievous cats.  Most of her writing is based in the south because she enjoys writing characters with accents and the South has plenty of people to inspire that.


Kim on Twitter:

Kim’s Blog:


Kim on Goodreads:



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Wolf Belt

North European folklore tells one of the most common methods to transform into a werewolf is to put on a wolf’s belt. This is basically a strip of wolf hide with the fur still on it.

Some men put on this belt simply to become more wolf-like. They would wear it to gain courage, display savage prowess in battle of have more strength while preforming tasks of hard labor.

Wearing the wolf belt had an incantation placed on it by sorcerer it would allow the wearer to transform into a wolf. The shape-shifter could then become a wolf at night and kill its enemies or enemies’ livestock.


** This Month’s Full Moon is called Snow Moon. **

Boxen Wolf

In the Schaumburg region of Germany werewolves are called Boxen wolves.

It’s believed they’ve made a pack with Satan that allows then to transform. They do this by buckling a strap around their waists. Satan gave them this strap.

Boxen wolves are known to be cunning and taking great delight in tormenting people.

If you suspect someone of being a Boxen wolf. You can tell for sure by holding a piece of steel over them. His or her true identity will be revealed by doing so.


**This Full Moon is called Frost Moon.**

The Lady of Porthcawl

My writing buddy Craig over at Entertaining Stories and I decided to write a story together. He took one part and I the other, then we switched and made sure the story fit together. It did, and I have to say it’s pretty awesome. Each story stands alone, but it’s so much better if you read them both. I would prefer you read Craig’s side first Macabre Macaroni, The Hunter then come back and read mine.

The Lady of Porthcawl

I tire of the Old Crusader’s antics, the game of cat and mouse he continues to play. He’ll make a move today or tomorrow, he may have forgotten but I haven’t. I’ve watched as he prepared, I’ve seduced information from those who’ve assisted him.

Glancing into the sky, the sun is closer to the western horizon. I’ve taken his elder into my bed, planting my wishes in his head as I fulfill his desires. He gives me any capricious wants with a flutter of my eye, or a pout of my lips. Poor Old Crusader, the fool can’t understand why they betrayed him. The giggles shake within my bodice.

Bending down I whisper an enchantment to the blooming bush. “You and I are the same,” I coo, “both the most powerful women in Porthcawl.” La Belladonna nods, giving her permission. “He killed Nell, and the babe in her womb.” I whisper taking a thin stem into my hands, “it’s the eve of her death make him pay for his transgressions to the Braddock’s.” The bush shivers, three leaves shimmer in the sunlight, I pluck them from the stem. One leaf is enough to kill a grown man. Three will not only kill the Crusader, they’ll suck the life from him.

“Did you rest well my beautiful, Bleiddian?” His large paws crush the fallen twigs. The massive wolf tips his head to the right. “Yes, we end the Crusader tonight.” His silver eyes sparkle within the darkness of his black fur. I pull my skirts up and tuck the leaves into my garter. Straightening my skirts, I turn my back on the Beast of Porthcawl.

Holding my hands out towards La Bella, I feel the residue from her leaves lift from my hands. I bow, and offer a few words of gratitude. Bleiddian closes the space between us, pressing his large head into my side. Scratching between his ears, I pull him with me as I sit on the bare patch of dirt. He lays his head in my lap. “You’ve been a good boy, striking terror in their hearts. Devouring the ones that refuse to call me Lady of Porthcawl.” He growls, as I laugh. “They fear you, and they disrespect me. Poor fools.”

Sliding my hand over his strong shoulders, I separate clumps of his black fur tipped in silver. My familiar is as beautiful as the full moon on the blackest of nights. It’s only reasonable for the strongest witch to have such a beautiful animal as her assistant.

Bleiddian raises his head from my lap, and looks to the east. “Let us go, there’s much to prepare before tonight. I place my left hand at the back of the large wolf’s head as we walk home in silence. Listening to the trees and air, energy tingles near the lines. Bleiddian stops walking and cocks his head in that direction. “Come, beautiful. I’ll explain at home.”

Our small home rests nestled among the trees. Bleiddian runs from my side, he lopes around the wooden cottage and stops at the door. I reach over the wolf and twist the knob, opening the door. Bleiddian bursts into the kitchen and lies down near the hearth. Pulling up my skirt, I remove the three leaves tucked into my garter. My tools wait in a tidy line taking the mortar and pestle I begin to grind the leaves. “He’s set a trap for me.” I say as I pulverize the leaves. Bleiddian looks up; a growl pulls his lips back exposing his fangs. “At the lines. Yes, where the three elements meet.”

Without looking, I know the black wolf has tipped his head to the right, questioning me. “Old Crusader paid a youngun to do his manly work. Poor male child, digging a hole at the center of the lines. He has a wooden cross there.” I pull the dagger from the garter on my right thigh. “He plans to burn me at the stake, creating the four elements.” Bleiddian moans. I turn in time to see him cover his eyes with his massive paws.

“We still have a trick or two. Are you prepared for this?” I ask knowing he’s always ready for tricks. He sits up alert, waiting for my orders. “Bring me some death roots.” Bleiddian drops to the floor and whines. “What do you suggest?” I ask placing my hands on my hips. He springs to the far cupboard places his paws on the counter and points to the top shelve with his nose.

The Crusader would never expect it. “But first,” I say pulling his attention from the corked bottle. I take a small wooden box down from the second shelf. “We’ll leave Porthcawl without leaders. You and I will be Lord and Lady,” placing my hand on his head, I start laughing.

I light a black candle and chant. Taking a scrape of cloth with dried blood, I touch its tip to the flame, “As this blood burns to ash so you shall turn to ash. As I will it shall be.” I remove the piece of cloth I’ve kept from the Magistrate and burn it, another from the Elder, the Abbot, other members of the brotherhood, the blacksmith. I continue cursing until the box is empty.

Removing a tiny vial from a drawer I fill it with the crushed Belladonna leaves, I tuck it into the garter on my left thigh. Bleiddian watches, as I replaced the poisoned dagger to its place at my right thigh. Raising my skirts, I stretch my left leg towards the large wolf. “Mix this into the water pitcher, after one sip the Crusader won’t see the sunrise.” I twist my right thigh just enough for Bleiddian to see the dagger, “In case of an emergency. Aim for the heart.”

I know he understands, reaching for the corked bottle I spill some of the contents on him making him growl. I rub the ointment into the fur on his head and down his spine. Pouring some on my palm I mix it into my hair, rub the excess down my neck and over my cleavage. I pour more into my hand and pat it down my skirts. “Witch and familiar. Familiar and witch. One or the other. Which is which.” I begin to chant.

The air around us heats and cools. Wind blows tiny twisters around us. My voice gets deeper as Bleiddian enters my body. Go, I’ll finish the Crusader, I speak into Bleiddian’s mind.


Have you ever gone berserk? Has anyone ever told you you’re going berserk?

This phrase comes from old European tribes of warriors called Berserks or in the Old Norse Berserkir.


These warriors would allow their emotions usually rage, or joy of a savage battle to take them over. They’d toss their armor and go into battle wearing only bearskin shirts.

German tribes wore bearskins to honor the goddess Ursel – The She Bear. They believed the bear was skilled in martial arts. The most formidable challenge a warrior could face was a She-Bear protecting her cubs.

Viking Berserkirs dressed in wolf skins. They’d rush into battle howling like wolves. This was in hopes of “warning” the enemy that they were a cross of man and animal and they’d soon be more vicious as they became more animal. The Berserkirs totem animal was a wolf.

** This month’s Full Moon is Called Hunter’s Moon. **


The Ancient Greeks and Romans believed in a Wolf Enchanter of Wolf Charmer.

They called him Lupicinus.

Lupicinus may have in prehistoric times been an individual tribes men who had a skill for communicating with wolves. As wandering pre historic man began to settle into villages the need of a person skilled at singing with wolves (wolf charmer) was still necessary.

He would convince the wolves to stay away from the domesticated animals. Lupicinus could howl with the wolves and lead the away from the livestock pens. Because he wore a wolf’s pelt belt it was thought that the Lupicinus was able to transform himself into a wolf whenever he desired. A werewolf.

** This month’s Full Moon is called Harvest Moon. **