Please help me welcome today’s guest, Karen Hulene Bartell…
Today is RELEASE DAY for Blue Dog, and I’m so excited! Blue Dog is a romantic thriller set in the world’s largest bayou, the Atchafalaya Basin, with a steamy Louisiana romance, and a cryptid called a rougarou. Please note, the love interest is not the cryptid. Instead, it’s rugged park ranger, Clay Landry, who introduces Deirdre (Dare) Doyle to a world of ghost forests, fais-do-dos, and the rougarou…
What, you ask, is a rougarou? Often told as morality tales to keep children in line, the legend of the rougarou is alive and well in the Atchafalaya Basin. It’s a Creolization of African, Cajun, Caribbean, Chitimacha, Choctaw, French Canadian, and Houma heritages and traditions. Not an assimilation into any dominant group, rather, the Southern Louisiana legend is a fusion of ethnic ingredients, a social gumbo that creates a unique cryptid.
Most origin stories center around the idea that rougarou (pronounced roo-garoo) is simply the Cajun bastardization of the French werewolf, the loup-garou (pronounced loo-garoo), but that doesn’t hold water any more than some levees do. Though coyotes and dogs abound in the region, wolves haven’t inhabited it for decades, if not centuries. Some stories suggest the creature can shapeshift into any form it chooses, but most contend it’s human with canine characteristics, such as a hairy face or body, and was either born with the affliction or cursed by a Vodou bokor.
Origin: Cajun and Creole traditions blend French werewolf legends with Chitimacha, Choctaw, and Houma Native American myths.
Nature: It’s a shapeshifter similar to a werewolf with a human body and a wolf or dog head, often possessing glowing red eyes.
Cause of Transformation: Cursed by the devil, a Vodou priest, or a witch, it’s often (but not always) being punished because of misconduct.
Symbolism: Representing moral corruption, sin, and the dangers of bad behavior, it’s tied to Cajun cautionary tales.
Appearance: It’s a shapeshifter with both humanoid and wolf- or dog-like features.
Blue Dog is a jambalaya of romance, natural disasters, and supernatural occurrences that are difficult to explain away.
What, you ask, was the hardest part of writing Blue Dog? It was making the legendary sound possible.
Locals whisper of the bayou’s thin places, where boundaries blur, and the rift distorts between fact and folklore.
Blurb:
Finalizing her dissertation while emerging from a destructive relationship, Deirdre ‘Dare’ Doyle finds a lifeline in Clay Landry, a rugged park ranger who introduces her to the mythical–yet menacing–lore of Louisiana’s bayous. As their hormone-fueled relationship intensifies, so does the threat from her past.
Kirk, her toxic ex, sabotages her academic future, forcing a choice between her love and her dreams. But when Hurricane Kirk brings both a violent storm and a dangerous confrontation, an enigmatic creature intervenes, blurring the boundary between folklore and fact.
Excerpt:
“Can’t see a thing…” I squinted through the downpour. Wipers going full speed, I swiped at the windshield’s condensation.
When the cold front met the Gulf’s humid air, the skies erupted. What had been a sunny afternoon when I left Lafayette was now a white-knuckle nightmare. I turned on the lights and defroster, but neither helped visibility, and I slowed to twenty-five miles an hour.
“Great…” Muttering, I focused on the road’s center line and cleared a peephole through the fogged windshield. Slowing to twenty miles an hour, I fumed at the pace. I’d gotten a late start thanks to an ad hoc meeting with the department chair. Now this…hope Kim doesn’t worry…she has enough on her mind.
My favorite aunt had torn a tendon playing tennis. Though fiercely independent—solo ager, she called herself—she needed help after her rotator cuff operation. The good news? With my summer break just starting, I could lend a hand while finishing my dissertation.
Finishing? I sniffed. Not only haven’t I started it, but I don’t have a topic.
Thanks to Kirk…the jerk. If only he hadn’t—“Gah! Why did he have to come to mind?” Struggling to see, I smeared the dripping condensation, wishing I could wipe him from my thoughts as easily. If I could just—
A jolt through the steering wheel raced up my arms, knocking my teeth together. “What was that?” I swerved off the road and checked my rearview mirror. Did I hit a log? An animal? A pothole? Looking through the dense rain was like looking into sleet—a total whiteout.
A loud, low-pitched rumble shook the air, startling me.
My focus switched to my face while the background blurred. Panicked hazel eyes stared back above high cheekbones, framed by a shock of blonde, chin-length hair.
The air vibrated with another louder, powerful thrum. Even through the closed windows, the sound juddered off my ribcage.
“Rolling thunder?” I cracked the window to listen.
A third bellow resonated through the rain.
“Is that a bull snorting?” I shifted into reverse and inched backward, checking to make sure I hadn’t injured an animal. But after finding nothing, I rolled to a stop.
A deafening bolt of lightning struck nearby, blinding me as it split a live oak tree and curled the hairs on my left arm.
Then a dark figure dashed across my bumper, bellowing as it fled into the downpour.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my pulse beat in time with the windshield wipers. I floored the gas, fishtailing as I sped past the vertically split tree toward Creve Coeur, Louisiana.
****
Minutes later, as I pulled into my aunt’s drive, the rain stopped as quickly as it had begun. My heart still thumped like a flat tire at high speed, but I pasted a smile on my face. No need to add to her stress.
Kim was chatting with a tall, attractive man on the front porch. Beside him stood a massive dog with a huge head and broad chest.
“Hey, there.” I waved as I stepped from the car. The next thing I knew, two enormous, muddy paws pushed me off balance, and I tumbled backward into the driver’s seat.
“Blue, no! No!” The dark-haired man leashed the enormous dog, then turned toward me. “I am so sorry. He’s a rescue that obviously needs socializing. I’ll pay for the cleaning or a new outfit. I do apologize!”
All I could do was laugh. After the tension of driving two hours in the beating rain, then the scare with the…whatever it was, the release was cathartic.
“Are you all right?” His charcoal-blue eyes appraised me.
Hypnotized by his penetrating gaze, I took a deep breath as my laughter trickled to a chuckle. “I’m fine, and these jeans will be good as new once I throw them in the wash.” I shrugged. “No damage done.”
“Appreciate it. This incorrigible runaway is Blue, short for Blue Dog. I’m reclaiming him after his self-guided tour of the neighborhood.”
“What breed is he?” I ruffled the fur on the dog’s massive head, each shaggy ear as big as my hand.
“Not sure, but I’m guessing a combination of Blue Heeler, Catahoula Leopard, Pit Bull, and heaven knows what else.” He switched the leash to his left hand and held out his right. “Incidentally, I’m Clay Landry.”
As we shook, I grinned at his obvious affection for the overgrown escape artist. Then my heartbeat quickening, time paused as his gaze locked onto mine. Can he feel my pulse through my fingers?
“And this speechless young lady is my favorite niece, Deirdre Doyle—”
“Call me Dare—”
“If you dare.” Kim cackled. “Family joke.”
“Kim’s talked of you so often, I feel I almost know you.” He gave a parting smile before removing his hand from mine to pet Blue. “What does Deirdre mean?”
Our connection broken, an odd emptiness rattled inside my chest. Strange… “She was a tragic Celtic heroine, the ‘Juliet’ of Tír na nÓg, who struggled between fate and free will.”
“Speaking of fate,” Kim half turned toward me with a private wink. “Clay was a student of mine a few years back.”
“You don’t say?” Synchronicity?
****
Buy links:
Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H5X15M1P/thewildrosepr-20
Apple Books (ITunes) – https://books.apple.com/us/book/blue-dog/id6781672441
Universal Link – https://books2read.com/u/3yqjrZ
About the Author:
The author of 30 published books besides Blue Dog, Karen Hulene Bartell was born to rolling-stone parents who moved annually. Her earliest playmates were fictional friends in books. Paperbacks became her portable pals. Ghost stories kept her up at night–reading feverishly. Novels offered an imaginative escape, and she began her first novel at nine, learning the joys of creating her own HEAs. Professor emeritus of the University of Texas at Austin, she lives in the Texas Piney Woods with her husband and *mews*–three rescued cats and a rescued CATahoula Leopard dog.
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Author Alicia Dean 
Gorgeous cover!
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A feature and excerpt to intrigue, Karen and Alicia. The atmospheric blue cover echoes the dog’s name and sets the scene. Meryl
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