Daniel Potter

I might be a werewolf. But I am a paramedic. It goes deeper than the adrenaline rush of the life or death calls. Every call no matter how minor, lets me end a shift with the knowledge that yes, I helped someone today. Except I cannot help anyone when people are shooting at me!

Every moment is a struggle between the human and the beast. Wolf-me cares nothing for schedules, social niceties, or the importance of hiding. Territory is to be taken and protected. Pack is to be expanded....

With magic leaking back into our world, working the nightshift as a paramedic comes with danger. But I handle it. I’ve got a shotgun for the zombies, and my lycanthropic rage hasn’t escaped my apartment. Life is normal-ish. All that changes when I’m called to help a dying fey....

There’s a new fey in town. She’s the Knight of Joy and I want to harsh all over her good vibes in the worst way. Sure, Portland could use a bit more happiness, but Joy’s flavor is the all-consuming kind that renders folks content to hand their souls to the fey. Not on my turf....