Nora Quick – Wolf Tales Volume I

WT01_Cover_mdmTitle: Wolf Tales Volume I

Author: Nora Quick


Page count: 206

Genre: Erotic Romance

Price: $3.99 Kindle


Author Bio:

Nora Quick lives in Chicago, IL with her faithful companion Nikolai Tesla Quick, a Siberian Husky who is, in her opinion, the best dog that has ever lived. She wrote her first novel at age 12, a crime drama set in her hometown of Detroit, MI and is a self-admitted graphomaniac who compulsively writes daily. She has worked a wide variety of jobs sampling much of life from high finance to BDSM and is related to half the CPD. She writes crime, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, and erotica. You can find some of her writing on where she writes as madam_noe.


Tell us about your book:

120,000 Words

therapist1-1Six stories of erotic romance tell the tales of wild, irresistible men and the women who come to love them.

“The Claiming” introduces us to werewolf pack Beta Shaylee. When her Alpha sends her to meet a human Shaylee finds herself falling for the human, but what secret does Kyle hold that will change the wolves’ lives forever?

“The Beginning” shows us the origin of all werewolves when a simple hunter Jon is changed forever by the exotic Fatik.

“The Legacy” brings us the next generation of wolves in the tale of Lars and Alexia, destined to meet by a legacy forever binding their parents.

“The Curse” tells of the darkest hour of wolf history when Jon touches true love in a single moment with Duana.

“The Magic” is the story of lost lovers Elizabeth and Koray, brought together after centuries when a mad killer begins stalking the wolves.

“The Lost” illustrates life for non-dominant pack wolves as new wolf Alejandro chases Omega wolf Valentina around the world on a desperate manhunt for the greatest threat the wolves may ever face.


How long did it take to write the book?

One Year


What inspired you to write the book?

My love of erotic romance, short fiction, and werewolves, along with enthusiasm and some disappointment with many existing works in this genre.


Talk about the writing process. Did you have a writing routine? Did you do any research, and if so, what did that involve?

I based the werewolf lore on the old tales of Irish werewolves. Ireland was known as “The Island of Werewolves” in the Dark Ages. I write daily, posted 3 of the 6 stories on for my fans enjoyment & feedback, and had a professional editor as well as critique readers help me put it all together.


What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?

A new appreciation of werewolf legends, as well as a realistic understanding at just how difficult and rewarding love can truly be.


Where can we go to buy your book?

Amazon –


Any other links or info you’d like to share?
Free Preview –

Updates –


Excerpt from book:

It felt strange having him inside her apartment by choice. The front was a large living room, the middle her six bedrooms and office, and the back a formal dining room, cozy breakfast nook, and kitchen. The coffee table was still smashed and the kitchen still smelled of hasty werewolf sex.

He took it all in silently and then his eyes lit on the large portrait in the far wall of the living room. It was him.

“I’m sure you remember than when I first saw the world was not what I expected. Colors were not what I assumed, everything was so much more magical than I dared dream. I wanted to capture it all, and so I began painting. That was my first.”

It was him, seated in his little rented house in his favorite chair. His hair smoothed back it glowed in the firelight. His clothes were fine and pressed, and his smile was so animated Koray thought he’d see himself move. He drew close to it, eyes wide. “It’s incredible. You captured the room perfectly.”

She closed the front door and stood there, feeling lot. “What do I call you? Giuseppe or Noel?”

“To the world I am Noel, but my real name is Koray.”

“Koray,” she said, proud her new accent allowed her to say it correctly.

“It means ‘ember moon.’ I suppose that was part of what caught Jon’s fancy.”

The word struck a chord of memory from her travels, and realization dawned. “So you’re Turkish?”

“A Turk in my time. It was an empire then, but I was a simple fisherman. It’s almost dawn and I need to call my Alpha. May I use your phone?”

“Follow me.” She led him to her office.

Thanking her he sat, and she closed the door. In the hall Elizabeth looked about, unsure what to do, and then she yawned. Out of habit she went to her room, to the master bath, and brushed her teeth, washed her face, prepared for bed. She would make up a guest bed for him, and she would call him Noel, Elizabeth decided. It was the name that would keep the most distance between them.

When she emerged, dressed in a Jets jersey for sleeping he was in the hall looking thoughtful. When he saw her he began to laugh. “It’s so strange. I remember as you were, a simple country girl of a long-dead era. You smoke, you wear things like that…you’re not the same girl I knew.”

“And you?” She folded her arms under her breasts. “When I met you, you claimed to be fleeing the war, a huntsman for a lord. You dressed like a gentleman, spoke in what I assumed was Italian and Turkish whenever your passions were roused, and-”

“You speak German when you are agitated,” he said in her native tongue perfectly.

Elizabeth smoothed her hair back, shocked she’d slipped back into that tongue. “I am a woman who could move about camps of enemy soldiers unescorted and never feel a moment’s fear. I have watched entire villages be decimated by disease and famine and never once trembled.  I have given words of advice to men who put them in historical documents still valued today. There is nothing I cannot do, yet right now, right here, with you…”

He drew closer, looming over her. “Yes?”

She took a steadying breath and raised her gaze to meet his. “I am terrified.”

“Good,” he said cryptically and then kissed her.

Shocked, she went pliant. The sensual pull between them was palpable but this was madness! His hands slid under the jersey and found her hips, bare, and her mind shuttered on the refrain take no chances, waste no time. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and yanked it off, sending it sailing down the hall.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, suddenly desperate to feel him against her. Dream, fantasy, or haunting, she didn’t care…he felt real, smelled real, and tasted real. Of all the things she had ever wanted it was this, right here, right now.