Here's this story I'm writing about wolves. I like to tape record my voice when I write a book then I write it out. In words. It's just easier this way. Free form...you know? Like a jazz player but with fucking words and shit instead of musical notes.
This may have to be a multi-part series. Like Roots. But with wolves. And no Levar Burton or the dad from Good Times.
...There's this fucking wolf but he's like a dire wolf so bigger than a grey wolf. And he's the leader of this tribe of other wolves. So at the beginning of the book his dad died or something and then he's banished from the tribe for some reason.....I don't know...I gotta work that out. But anyway he comes back to the tribe and he's all fucking fucked up and shit. Like scrawny and weak because it's hard to find fucking food when you're a wolf and you're on you own because of the way wolves hunt and shit. (It's true. I did research about wolves).
So he comes back in the tribe and and he fights the one leader wolf even though he's weak as shit. Bites his fucking neck, kills him then stands up on this rock and fucking howls. Big ass moon fucking shining on him and he's all strong now because he got energy from the blood from the wolf he just kicked the ass of.
All the other other wolves bow to him. Undisputed wolf leader. Then they go on all these adventures but he can change himself from a wolf into a human warrior. He looks like the dude on the cover of Flirtin' with Disaster (Molly Hatchet album). And he gets all these smokin' hot chick. Big ass titties and shit.
To be continued.....