Look.
No, not here—down there
See her? The woman behind the rock? The one with a Glock 43 in her hand? That’s Schae Summers, fantasy author. She only came to Scotland to do some book research. Not to be chased over the heather by a wolf. Because everybody knows there aren’t any wolves in Scotland, right?
Well right now Schae’s wishing someone had told the one behind her.
But being chased is one thing—even if it’s by a wolf. Being chaste? That’s something else entirely. Especially where men with storm grey eyes are concerned. Men like Darek Banakar—who just might be more dangerous than any wolf.
So here she is. Schae Summers. She’s smart, and she’s hip. She wasn’t born yesterday - but she’s going to be.
Born Yesterday by Tatter Jack is a very unique, albeit sometimes confusing, book. This author has a very individual way of writing that is seen throughout his written library. His writing is entertaining while being suspenseful at the same time. If you can keep up with the story, you’ll love it; but you will have to commit yourself to finishing it.
I really enjoyed this book, though there were places where I was quite confused for brief periods. By the middle of the book, I had realized if I could just be patient, I would find the answers I was looking for. There are a lot of twists and unexpected turns that take place all through Born Yesterday.
Schae Summers is a fantasy author who has gone to Scotland for book research. Her past is mostly a mystery to her, due to amnesia. I really have mixed feelings about Schae. I feel like I should think she’s awesome, but I think she’s alright instead. Some of her choices and decisions are questionable in my opinion, but I also tend to dislike characters I’m supposed to love.
This really is a book worth checking out. Mystery and suspense are throughout keeping the reader guessing, while having paranormal elements as well. As Schae Summers finds out, maybe there ARE werewolves in Scotland after all!
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About Tatter Jack
Tatter's an ol' Irish word meanin' 'father of the clan' . Well, that ain't me. I'm just ol' TatterJack. I been walkin' these hills, tellin' my tales, since they was bloody mountains. I been doin' it so bloody long, there's some as tells tales about _me_ even. Like how if you stand with your back to a mirror, an' says my name, an' says it three times forwards an' one time back, an' three times back an' one time front, how I'll come. An' they'll say all sorts of things what happen next. But it's all rubbish. 'Cos first, I don't come when I'se bloody called, not to no-one. An' second, I don't rip out your innards to make my stew neither. Well, not very often.
But if ye find me on the Road, we can sit us down, an' we can set us a fire, an' I'll tell ye a tale if ye've a mind to hear it. An' if it's a cold night, then mebbee it'll be one wi' some fire in it, to keep you warm when you're far from home.
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