A
Literature
An American Trans Shewolf The moon wasn’t up yet. But I could feel the beast within me growing stronger, like a caged animal pacing and yearning for its freedom. My heart pounded and my skin crawled as I padded down the hallway in my bare feet. I got to my room, shut the door and locked it behind me. All I wanted was a normal life. But what’s normal when you’re both transgender and a werewolf? I had no idea. I admired myself in the full-length mirror. I looked damn sexy if I do say so myself. I wore a black floral-patter dress and white top. I had my fiery red hair down. I gazed at my feet and wiggled my toes. My nails wore bright silver polish. Too bad it would be obliterated in short order. I cupped my breasts. Oh, growing them had been a wondrous experience. They too, would vanish as I changed. A shiver ran up my spine. I opened the window and removed the screen. In scene straight out of every cornball werewolf movie, the clouds parted and the full moon’s silver light bathed me. My body trembled. I
